Perfect? Doesn't matter!

25.02.23 Zagora - Alnif Now we are inevitably heading towards the desert. When we leave Zagora and the city at 9 o'clock today, we already encounter a few camel caravans. But they are not carrying treasures, they are picking up tourists from Zagora. The animals wear bridles and saddles or thick blankets. Every now and then, we also come across groups of motorhomes driving in the opposite direction, mostly French or Dutch, whose vehicles are covered with a fine layer of dust and sand, testifying to where they come from: the desert.

Today we have about 140 kilometers ahead of us - I enjoy every single one of them. There is nothing more beautiful for me than sitting behind the steering wheel in the motorhome and gliding through this fascinating landscape at 70, 80 kilometers per hour. There are these rocks and stones that appear dark, almost black, heavy and threatening, and suddenly turn brown, beige and almost yellow, glowing lightly and cheerfully. And above it all, the sun spreads its bright blue canopy and bathes everything in soft light. What a play of colors!

We're making good progress. We've passed the mountains and wound our way through the valleys for the first 70 kilometers. We pass the first larger village. Ricci's GPS leads us through small streets where older men and women sit in front of small shops on the bare ground. And children are running through the streets, screaming, waving.

I remember how surprised I was at the beginning of our trip to Morocco. In larger villages, dozens of people of all ages lined our way, waving, laughing, and rejoicing. That touched me deeply. Since then, I've often caught myself waving from my motorhome first, surprising the people outside. They usually laugh and wave back. It's still okay here in Morocco, but at the latest when I'm back on European roads, I have to stop doing that. It might not be received so well on the streets of Berlin...

But until then, 16 days will pass. It's been exactly six weeks since I set off. Because I'm traveling alone, I have a lot of time to let my thoughts wander. This traveling changes something within you. Things that were unthinkable before have now become completely normal. You can't shower a few times a week. You shower when there's water, possibly warm water. You don't change your t-shirt every one or two days, but when you can put it on the floor after taking it off and it doesn't fall over. I better keep my changing rhythm for underwear and socks to myself.

Or my new floor mat that adorns the dashboard. It can't be laid out without wrinkles. It would have driven me crazy before. I would have had to stop and glue it, fix it somehow. Today, while driving, I noticed it with a smile. It creases - how beautiful, how lively, how different - maybe every day, maybe after each curve. Isn't that exciting?

This traveling in this wide country under this endlessly blue sky breaks down borders. Within you. You have to improvise every day, nothing is as you know it and expect it to be. You have to cheat and be glad if you are at least a little successful with it. The word "perfect" has already been erased from your vocabulary. And the beautiful thing is: you don't miss it.