Hey tell me how can it be that money can set you free

During the first night in Morocco, we spend the night at a small fishing port. The port is entered through a barrier, controlled by the border guards. Every fisherman must deposit his passport and every boat is searched before the fishermen are allowed to go out to sea. We are made aware of the privilege it is for us to be able to travel to Morocco so easily already on the first evening.

Meanwhile, we are at a campsite in Moulay-Bousselham. We pack everything up, optimize where possible, and Martin works on the kitchen. We play football, run away from the waves on the beach, eat pomegranates, and slowly find our rhythm.

There are cats, chickens, and even a horse buzzing around the campsite. We are probably here, forget to lock the bus, and only realize it hours later when we come back. Everything is still there, luckily! In any case, everyone is very friendly to us, admires the blue eyes of the children, and speaks to us in French, English, and even German now and then.
100 km of motorway cost the same as a SIM card with 5 GB or a nice take-away dinner for the whole family (about 8 francs). Where and when and how to negotiate is not clear to us yet. We find everything cheap and hum... 47 millionaires...