His journey home is cut short: five years of captivity in Algiers, "that reduced Noah’s Ark, which welcomes and conceals and within its breast so many pirates closes in together." Practically nowhere commemorates his stay. Three hundred and sixty years later Albert Camus writes in his notebook, "yes, I’ve tilted at windmills. Because it doesn’t matter in the slightest whether you fight windmills or giants. It matters so little that they are easily confused." Camus the "pied-noir"; exiled from himself, like Cervantes.