I remember as a kid, I only thought about one thing: travel. As soon as I was old enough, around 14 or so, I started working summers to pay for my first trips. First with host families cause I was super young, and then quickly, all by myself.
I loved flying. I loved the mix of excitement and apprehension that came over me every time I landed in a new country.
I loved seeing new things, meeting new people, sitting in cafés and just walking for miles, dreaming. And I loved doing it all alone… That said, little by little, I found travel companions. My best friend lived in Syria and we crossed my first desert together (and drank tea with some Bedouins… such an amazing experience). My first love with whom I hitch hiked over Europe (I was 22 at the time and my parents still hold it against me). My three best friends and I traveled all across Spain and if we even just mention the trip we all start cracking up… (If you can picture us all sleeping in the middle of a round-about, you get an idea of just how fly-by-night this trip was…). Of course, I’ve had some bad experiences. You have to chose wisely the people you travel with!
And since then, when I think about it, few things really feel like an adventure.
Yeah, I travel a lot now. I have some incredible moments with that endless big horizon in front of me. But the journeys are far too short. They go by far too fast and are never far enough away. They never really seem to be what I’m looking for when I think of travel… Drowning myself in the contemplation of a landscape. Leaving my comfort zone and accepting that I might not understand everything. And learning about others as well as myself.
This trip to Morocco was way too short of course, but when we went off the beaten track and left the big cities (next time I hope to show you the modern side of Morocco), we were really moved. I would love to tell you about every second of my trip, but it all went by so quickly… And I was all too caught up in my emotions.
Besides just being a great trip, I got to guide Scott through some of my homelands : My grand-mother was Berber. And even if I didn’t know this country well, so many things seemed so familiar to me. The people especially, and I just love their kindness and sense of humor.
This trip, even if it was filled with its share of culture-shock, totally disoriented us, and at the same time, brought us closer together. It felt great.