Alaska is a restaurant that was once in Altsasu, an establishment full of travellers and tourists which was even mentioned by Bernardo Atxaga in one of his books. The owner had made enough money in that cold northernmost region where America meets Siberia, so he set up the restaurant first and, later on, a large elegant hotel in Etzegarate, which had a swimming pool that is nowadays abandoned. Much has been written about heartbreak and abandonment, but little about the invisible threads that connect us to places, preventing us from mourning them. In fact, we leave our lives, our pieces, in people we will not see again and in places we will not visit again. And we all have an Alaska within us. We all have a place chained to our memories, a place we remember clearly or partially. Someone we loved, someone we do not know where they are today.