Sunday, March 19. 2023

it is Sunday morning 06:30 am, I am sitting in my bed looking out of the hotel room window, into a blue sky, the city laying at the foot of a mountain, still asleep. We had our fair share of mountain experiences, and I know it by now. 

Today we go back to Tanger. We will book the ferry and tomorrow we will go back to Spain.

Omar just recently reviewed the density of our trip, the density of the experiences we made on a daily base. This whole journey incredible. For me, it would not have worked out without my 20 years younger friend. There are limits to what you can physically do in the age of 70. This trip came just at the right time. Omar just yesterday fancied the imagination of being on a year long trip, just with your bike, traveling the world. 

I know that feeling, I did that with my high seas cruising catamaran, building it for three years and then sailing the seas for one year.

If you got to go, your got to go. There is no right time. There is only this time, only now. You will figure that the fulfilled dream isn't what you expected. Every expectation is a potential trap. But every experience is priceless. It is the stuff the stories are made of when you are getting old. Getting old without having stories to tell is the worst thing that can happen to a human being. 

You are your stories. You are your experiences.