In Morocco, I saw insides.
Flemming and I spent two weeks in Tangier and Fes in 2013. I had three good days of walking around before getting a bad stomach. To help things along, I then sprained an ankle upon arriving in Fes. Exploring its labyrinthine medina suddenly didn’t seem like a great idea. But I got a lot of reading done, and drank a lot of mint tea while lazing around the exquisite dar that was our home for that time. It is a comfortable and very beautiful abode, with a host who showed us every kindness he could think of to offer.
To pass time in the evenings, we made photos of each other, lost in the mosaic.
It feels like a very long time ago that the photo above was taken. The last two years have been intense. Not only because I have been travelling; these are the first years of my life that I’ve lived according to my own will.
It’s been a long time coming (late, but better than never), and what a way to discover the vitality of life. Every day since has contained some surprise. If you told me, 2 years ago, that I would go into business, or make a movie on a whim, madly love a strange, wonderful being, get involved with a global camera giant, lose my father, renegotiate my relationship with the land of my birth, get to know my sisters’ children, spend time with both my sisters in one year (geographic distribution makes this normally difficult), write gear posts….
… I’d say you were talking about someone else.
That kind of crazy stuff never happened to me.