Outside the shed of a small river boat, the rhythmic sound of oars in the water can be heard. In the distance, lost in the tropical vegetation, another sound: human voices, songs of lament and absence. It's a misty night on the Magdalena River, sometime in the early decades of the 19th century. Lying under the palm roof of the shed are Karl Sigmund von Greiff and Petronella Faxe, a young Swedish couple. They are traveling up the river with the expectation of reaching a distant mountainous region, where a job awaits them in the tunnels of a gold mine.

In the long and uncertain days of the trip, the young couple have lost track of how long they have been sailing, as the river runs between the banks of outdated and disconnected times. During the journey, encounters with lost travelers take place in the jungles and beaches of the river. The Swedes slide through the water amid the stillness of desolate territories and the helplessness of scarcity after the recent wars of Independence, whose architect, General Simón Bolívar, still inhabits along the Magdalena as a presence made of rumors. The boat seems to be moving towards nowhere, amid a rarefied atmosphere suspended in time.

In the northern reaches of Sweden above the Arctic Circle, lies under eternal night and the blanket of snow, a small town called Korpilombolo. In the surrounding forests, Latin American exiles and wandering travelers meet annually to seek the spirit of Gaspar De La Noche, a Colombian poet who disappeared in that region and whom some believe is still alive, but frozen in a deep sleep. In the middle of this snowy forest, there is an old house that connects  Korpilombolo with Bolombolo, that small town, lost in the mountains of Colombia where Gaspar was born. Bolombolo’s  inhabitants are forced to flee and wait for a train that will never arrive, a train that was never finished. Bolombolo will slowly disappear under the water of the river, due to the construction of a dam.

All my journeys are return journeys is a delirious adventure that runs like the waters of a river, between the present and the past, the tropics and the north, night and day, water and snow. Between the desire of returning to a lost home, and being forced to lose the one we have.

All my journeys are return journeys. journeys between the snow and the tropics, between characters who seek to return home and others who hope to find one.