50 days of full life

12.03.23 Chefchaouen Our last day in Morocco. The journey, the adventure is coming to an end. I used today's free time to get an overview of what I have experienced in this country in the past 50 days. Imagine you are standing on the beach and suddenly a spring tide rises in front of you, and before you can turn around and run away, the water is already there and carries you away. That's how it was for me when I looked back through my blog. Well, maybe it wasn't quite that dramatic, but I was quite surprised by the abundance of experiences, impressions, and emotions that suddenly came back. Unfortunately, they will not stay. Eventually, forgetfulness will cover them, sooner for some, later for others, and unfortunately very quickly for me. But I will make a book from this blog so that I can leaf through it from time to time and remember all the gifts that I am allowed to take from this journey.

When we open my treasure chest, there is this pain of saying goodbye to home. Yes, painful memories are valuable because they can teach us more than those of beautiful events full of happiness. I will surely not undertake such a journey again without my loved ones and our dogs. We belong together. Without them, Morocco's sun did not shine as brightly for me, even in the cloudless sky, as it would have with them. That's just the truth.

It is also undeniable that the journey for me could have ended in Breisach if ... well, if Ricci hadn't dug deep into his bag of tricks. I had filled 120 liters of diesel into my water tank and almost caused a catastrophe at the gas station. Dozens of bottles of Priel and vinegar saved me. And not to forget Volker, who quickly came to my side and prevented worse. His and his wife Renate's pronounced sense of family will also remain in my memory, as will the excellent meals that Volker's brother Gerd and his wife Ute provided for our whole crew. Especially in Morocco, where the different dishes usually tasted very bland, it was always a great pleasure.

The many overwhelming impressions of nature in Morocco are countless. The trips with the motorhome were full of them, the images of these mountains, the passes, the mighty rock formations or this endless hilly green. I absorbed everything with wide eyes, let myself be overwhelmed, carried away by this light, this landscape, and its unique atmosphere. Crossing a suspension bridge over the deep ravine on the route from Khenifra to Ouzou, the thrill, the dim feeling in my stomach. The rain chaos in Tafraout and Tata, where we almost couldn't get out of the campsite anymore, and Volker had to dig his motorhome out of the mud. The snow and ice storm that surprised us on the way to Tata - and that in Africa! The picture fit better with the parking space in Sidi Ifni in the front row, the Atlantic in front of my windshield. How wonderful my espresso tasted at this sight!

The souks of Marrakech with their overflowing variety of colors, smells, and items that thousands of merchants offer with big eyes and shouting. Speaking of big eyes: I will positively remember the countless little children who walk alone, with their almond brown eyes and their open, warm laughter. We had to experience that they can also be different on the way to Merzouga, where we were harassed by gangs of children who could have boarded our motorhomes.

Naturally, the desert also left its mark. I will not only take pounds of sand in my motorhome, but also the feeling of helplessness and modesty in the face of this vastness and the power emanating from the Sahara. I also got an impression in Merzouga of how important water is. While it is quite normal for us to turn on the tap and let warm or cold water flow in any amount, the people here often have to struggle for a few liters at almost 50 degrees Celsius, even kilometers away.

Showering has also become a stroke of luck here. Warm water is the exception at Moroccan campsites and parking spaces. I will appreciate it in the future when I stand under the shower at home, turn the lever towards red, and feel that it actually has an effect. In this context, a word comes to mind: Hammam. I certainly don't need a book to remind me of my experiences in the steam bath in Foum Zguid. It has burned into my memory. Just like my visit to the dentist in Modelt, which I had great respect for but went smoothly.

I have to come to an end. There are still many things that I don't want to forget. Above all, the people I had the privilege of doing this journey with, first and foremost Irmi and Ricci. I felt wonderfully taken care of. But with this care, the other participants probably felt no different. There are Maria and Wilhelm, who showed me that life can still be worthwhile when you have become old and sick. The deep conversations with Martin, the sportive debates with his Angelika, the fine humor of Ralf, Hanne's shopping addiction, along with the generosity of her Bernd and their loyal companion Pauli - I will miss them all.

And Brigitte and Berndt, our oldest crew members. I learned a lot from them, especially when it comes to structure and discipline, that both can be a burden but also make many things much easier. I will generously overlook Berndt's solos on the scale during the countless inevitable birthday serenades at this point.

Last but not least, I want to thank Birgit. She is a great photographer who has an eye for special motifs, for scenes that convey a certain feeling, a unique expression. That is not something you can learn, you either have it or you don't. She has it, and I was lucky that she was behind me on this journey and almost always within calling distance. It was fun and an honor for me to work with her, to design this blog together with her. Thank you very much for that!

Finally, I also want to thank all of you who have faithfully followed our blog and raised us to number one with your clicks on vakantio.de. That is a wonderful feeling - thank you very much!