Summer break. (March 16, 2020) It was nice to know that we didn't have to drive today. We started the day relaxed. We lounged in bed for longer than usual. We read books and talked. The weather outside wasn't very promising. Gray clouds. We spent the morning relaxed. Explored the area and discovered hammocks and a mobile bowling alley for us. Then Mathias and Wilma had a little movie day. They watched The Lion King, both mesmerized in front of the TV. Time for me to write. Not much else happened on this day. Wilma was with Heidi and Peter in the afternoon. Attempts to motivate her to play ball or anything else failed. We spent the day in or around the motorhome with some corona news and thoughts about what comes next for us. In the evening, we made ourselves comfortable in front of the 'door'. Mathias and Peter ate the good vodka cherries. Heidi and I treated ourselves to a Ramazzotti.
... and then everything changed. (March 17, 2020)
After a relaxed Monday, Tuesday was supposed to be relaxed as well. The weather was beautiful. The sun was shining on us again. Mathias and Wilma went to the playground for a short time. I did the housework. 'Fruits, légumes ...' it called from nearby. The fruit and vegetable man with his horse trailer had come to supply the tourists with fresh things. Quite handy. We had a vegetable lasagna planned, so I bought some zucchinis and Co. He also had strawberries. A strawberry cake would be something nice. So I also bought some strawberries. Once back in the motorhome, Mathias and Wilma were also back.
Wilma and I were busy preparing lunch and baking a cake. Mathias was occupied with his phone.
When we realized on March 12th that we could no longer leave Morocco, we looked at what options we still had. Through a service from the Foreign Office for crisis situations, stranded holidaymakers could register on a portal to be informed about possible repatriation actions etc. We signed up there. Now the first email came. In this email, it was stated that it should be added whether there is an interest in repatriation and whether flying out would be an option in an emergency. A question that had occasionally been floating around in our heads. It occupied us for the next few hours.
Actually, it was clear to us that we would not leave the motorhome alone in Morocco. Where should we go anyway? Without the motorhome, we would have had no home in Germany. Sure, we could have stayed with my parents. But what would we have done in the first 14 days (self-isolation) and it wouldn't have been a long-term solution either. What would happen to the motorhome? How do we get it back? On the other hand, we wondered how long the situation in
Morocco would still be 'relatively' harmless. How long would this still work out well? Public life had only just been shut down last night. Further measures will follow here as well. How mobile will we still be here? How safe are we if we do get infected? What if we decline the offer from the Foreign Office and stay. Would we still be able to expect help afterwards? The flow of information in the past few days had been almost non-existent. A situation had arisen that we could no longer control. At that moment, there were only these two options left - stay or fly without the motorhome. One of the hardest decisions we have made in the past few months.
First of all, a strawberry cake. Together with Heidi and Peter, we enjoyed a cozy cup of coffee. We only talked about this one topic. What should we do. In the end, the decision was almost clear ... we fly.
Nothing was relaxed anymore. The world wasn't. We weren't. Our thoughts weren't. Nothing. We were just having dinner when Peter told us that acquaintances of theirs had just arrived in Ceuta and would take the ferry to
Spain the next day. Strange. This shouldn't have been possible for days. Did it work now? Uncertainty arose because this would be the best solution for all of us. What do we do now? Do we take the risk - driving to Ceuta on a whim, hoping to be able to cross as well. In the worst case, we would be stuck in Ceuta, on European soil. Somehow a nicer thought than being on African soil. It was already 6:30 p.m. when Mathias said 'We pack up and leave now.' We quickly packed everything. Said goodbye to Heidi and Peter, who were also packing up, and paid for the campground. We drove onto the highway at 7 p.m. We now had 8 hours of driving ahead of us. It was still light, but that changed quickly. As we drove on the highway, we felt somewhat safe. We already knew the route very well. The potholes were small. The cars were lit and our eyes were watchful for any people and animals on the road. Wilma slept in her seat. It was going well. The weather changed the further north we went. We drove straight into a thunderstorm. Intense lightning. Rain. Storm. The drive changed suddenly.
It was madness. (March 18, 2020) The first 6 hours of driving were behind us. It was already midnight. The storm was giving us a hard time. Constant countersteering. The wind kept changing direction. Strong gusts made the motorhome sway and made us tremble. Arriving in Tangier, the wind got even stronger and the rain heavier. Suddenly, there was a loud bang at our last toll booth. We looked at each other, unsure where it came from. We had no choice but to pull over to the right. We discussed briefly. Mathias thought of the bicycles. I thought of the gas bottles. Mathias went out. It wasn't the bikes. It was the satellite dish that had been torn out of its anchoring by the wind and now kept opening and closing. Not a big deal, as the thing hadn't been working since the beginning of our trip. However, we were now afraid that the wind would rip it off completely and possibly damage our roof and another car. It was impossible to dismantle it in this weather. So we had to keep driving like this. Fortunately, the driving wind pushed the part down. The last toll booth also meant that we would soon be on the country road. Country road? Damn it! It was dark. It was wet. It was stormy. We didn't know the road and had to go through the mountains. In addition, our visibility suddenly changed. Fog had come up. Visibility? An arm's length. We couldn't see anything anymore. Not the road. Not the cars. Not the people. Not the abyss on the left or right. Not the signs. Just nothing. We drove at 20 km/h using the navigation system. I told Mathias about the curves. We were both afraid. We should have stopped, but the fear of not being able to cross anymore was greater. Besides, we wouldn't have been able to stop anywhere. So we continued this hellish trip. Thank God Wilma was sleeping and didn't notice any of it. 2 hours later, relief, we had reached the border post to Ceuta. Blocked off by fences and a police car. We parked right in front of it. Slowly, a police officer got out of the car. He only spoke French. No English. We understood that we couldn't enter without a valid ticket. Okay. Let's just quickly buy a ticket online. We moved to the side and now desperately tried to purchase a ticket. First website. Booking not possible. Second website. Booking not possible. Third website. Booking not possible. Damn it. New plan. We'll look for a ticket shop here in town and park in front of it to buy a ferry ticket when it opens. We drove a little further. 'Look, here on the left is also the way to Ceuta' ... so we turned left. Barrier again. A police officer came towards us. Showed them our passports, opened the barrier, and let us through. Mathias and I were completely amazed. We did it. Not. Next barrier came 2 km later. Another police officer. No crossing without a ferry ticket. We asked him about a ticket shop. He wasn't sure and pointed wildly on the map. Okay. Back again. Look for the shop. The town was small. No shop to be found. We stopped in a small street. A kiosk was open. Mathias asked there. But they told us that there was no shop in town that sold ferry tickets. Great. I tried again online to see if I could still book something. Finally found a possibility. In the meantime, Mathias had gone out again to find a shop. He didn't come back. Wilma (now awake) and I were alone with the motorhome. Daddy was missing. I didn't buy the ticket. Didn't want to, because I didn't know if he had found one. So we waited. Gradually, a few dark figures arrived. Cars stopped next to us and stared at us. I was angry. Where the hell was Mathias. Half an hour later, he finally came back. Didn't find a shop. I cried. 'What an a**hole' I thought. Now I finally wanted to book the ticket. Couldn't do it. It failed because of the credit card. We knew this. But it was only possible with our German mobile number. At the moment, it wasn't active because we were using a Moroccan SIM card. We wanted to do it in Germany. As luck would have it, my sister wrote us a message at that moment. So we sent her all the data with the request to activate our credit card. But that didn't work either. We didn't care anymore. We just wanted that damn ticket. We swapped SIM cards so we could activate the credit card. But it still didn't work. In the end, we booked a simple ferry ticket for 410 euros via another website using instant bank transfer
(plus roaming fees of 26 euros). Departure on Saturday, March 21st. The main thing was that we were allowed to cross the border from Morocco to Ceuta. We crossed the first border post at 5:30 a.m. and were just happy. We had to show our passports probably 10 times. The motorhome was searched several times, inside and out. Then it was goodbye to Morocco. Hello Ceuta. The Spanish border guards were nice. Now we just had to find a parking space and sleep. At 6 a.m., we were parked in a parking lot at a car dealership with two other campers. Happy. Relieved and totally tired, we fell into bed. We hardly slept.
It was 10 a.m. when our night was over. We wanted to make ourselves a nice breakfast. We still had a few days until the ferry would leave. Then there was a knock on the door. The police. We were told to immediately leave the parking lot and drive to the ferry terminal. Okay. So we drove to the ferry in our pajamas. Heidi and Peter were already there. Everything went very quickly. We checked in. Our ferry was now scheduled to depart today, Wednesday, at 2:45 p.m. Even better. We had a quick breakfast and got dressed. Mathias parked us in line for the ferry. Loudspeaker announcements echoed through the whole place. More and more motorhomes arrived. We recognized many of them from previous campsites. Everyone stayed in their motorhome and now waited for the crossing. However, the storm from the previous night was still raging. Then we received a message from the shipping company that the ferry would not sail today at 2:45 p.m. Okay too. We were relaxed. We had achieved exactly what we wanted. We felt safe.
We had lunch. Wilma and Mathias visited Heidi and Peter. The only people we had close contact with in the past few days and didn't keep a distance from them. I tried to sleep. But the announcements from the loudspeakers were constant. At some point, we understood what was being announced in Spanish, French, Arabic, and very quietly in English. We were to return home directly. Since we wouldn't be able to continue today, I went shopping quickly. This was possible. Back at the motorhome, we enjoyed a good piece of salami after a month and a week. Wilma went to bed early, and we also went to bed at 8:30 p.m. We had just started watching a movie on the media library when Mathias noticed some activity outside. He looked through the skylight and said 'It's starting. It's starting'. We jumped down. Mathias drove the motorhome a bit forward in the queue in his underwear. I got dressed in the meantime. Then we switched. We left Wilma sleeping. But it still took another 30 minutes until we were on the ferry. I didn't have a good feeling. Why did it start now? Why didn't they wait until tomorrow? The storm hadn't calmed down at all. I also had thoughts like 'Great, this way they might get rid of more infected people. Just sink them in the sea.' Anyway. There was no turning back now. We drove onto the ferry. Woke up Wilma. Instructed her not to touch anything. We put on masks. We were greeted with spit bags on the ship and took our seats in the 'hall'. Masked and gloved people all around us. The chairs were comfortable. Like armchairs in front of a TV. Wilma was lying on Mathias' lap. I was busy with myself because as soon as we arrived, it started. It was rocking. Beforehand, we had read in the radar that there were currently 3.5 meter high waves. Great. I wasn't able to take care of anything. I held tight to Mathias' arm. Closed my eyes and repeated to myself for 1 1/2 hours 'Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. It's not bad. We'll be there soon. We're almost there...' I think in the end, Mathias and I even fell asleep for a moment. We were over it. The captain docked smoothly. Before that, however, he showed us the harbor wall to the left and right. We got into the motorhome and quickly drove off the ferry. Hard to believe, we were in Spain. Drove a bit out of town and stopped at a rest area. We didn't usually do that. But now we did because there was no car traffic due to the curfew and we felt safe. At just after midnight, we were finally in bed.
Goodbye Spain & France. (March 19-22, 2020) The sun was shining on this Monday morning. We now had about 2 hours of driving ahead of us. The shortest stretch in days. Great. Our breakfast was not very exciting as we had almost nothing left in the fridge. But we were in a good mood and got back on the highway. Wilma was looking forward to Grandma and Grandpa. We were too. We arrived in Waren around lunchtime. First, we refueled gas and exchanged our second gas bottle for a full one. First German surprise. Gas has become almost 10 euros more expensive. In Morocco, we paid the equivalent of 4.50 euros for a gas bottle. Here 26.95 euros. Welcome back. We went grocery shopping and then drove to my parents' house. We were glad to have arrived. It felt strange because mentally we weren't back in
Germany yet. We had agreed in advance to go into self-isolation. Just for safety reasons for my parents, but also for the other residents of the building. We explained to Wilma that we couldn't hug Grandma for now and also couldn't go into the apartment for a while. It was hard for her. Us and Grandma too. But it had to be done. We enjoyed the sun and went to bed early.
Our journey in and through other countries has been put on hold for now. The journey to ourselves is just beginning. How will things continue for us? What do we want and how and especially where. The adventure is not over for us yet. We look positively into the next months and enjoy the time together as a family of three or five, together with my parents.
