Here and now or not?

In the last blog I promised to write about the "here and now", but today I'm not sure if I can manage that. In Kenya, the white people from Europe are called "Muzungus", which means "wanderers" in Swahili. It's actually a nice term and expresses a lot of the restlessness that often comes over me when I'm in a new environment; I often want to see and get to know a lot and run around without knowing exactly what I'm looking for. Travelling on a sailing boat does curb this need to "rush from one place to another", as we are really slow. We are guided by the wind, the tides and what provisions we have left. However, we're also always busy checking what's next, when the wind is favourable, who we can meet when and where, whether the Marianas still have a place or when it gets dark. Morocco forces us to get into a rhythm with our planning. On the one hand, it requires us to manage our strength well, as there are hardly any opportunities to anchor comfortably in a bay if you don't feel like sailing any more; on the other hand, we have to be very patient and calm in order to comply with the country's formalities. Every time you arrive and leave a harbour, you have to go to the gendarmerie, customs and the police. We were allowed to anchor in Essaouira and still enter the country. This was not possible in Agadir. Only when we are in the marina by boat do we get a stamp in our passport and are allowed ashore. Unfortunately, the marina was full. We sailed for 12 hours from Essaouira and really hurried so that we didn't arrive in the dark and the fog, which was already scary. We started the engine, set the light wind sail, which we could use again after my climbing action, and were happy to sail into the marina in the last light. Unfortunately, we were kicked out again! The marina was full and we had to leave. They didn't really recommend anchoring in front of the harbour, because there wasn't expected to be any space in the next few days. "Maybe", said the marina employee, "the day after tomorrow on Monday".

Anyone who is familiar with Greek harbours and knows that the boats are tied together even in the second or third row, which is called lying in a packet, wonders what the problem is here in Agadir. It looked like there was plenty of space for us, but the boats would have to be packed a little tighter. Well, "Respect our country" someone shouted to us. So we did and anchored in front of the harbour. It was very rocky. I was frustrated. The mission of my trip is biosphere reserves and here in Agadir I had finally made contact with the Arganeraie biosphere reserve and had a whole week's programme organised. I wanted to go ashore! The atmosphere on deck was not good. It was also cold and clammy and not exactly inviting to celebrate the "here and now". We had also hit rock bottom in terms of food. I had bought a tin of sauerkraut with sausages in France, which I actually quite like, especially when it's cold and uncomfortable outside. But this tin was really not edible!  

So there we were, rocking in front of the long sandy beach in Agadir, again the weekend party fever sounds from the shore and we are not allowed ashore. I didn't feel like partying, but the uncertainty of whether we would be allowed ashore, the waiting and being exposed to the authorities is not a nice feeling. I think of the many refugees who really do come up against national borders in need and wait for months, if not years, not knowing what to do next. In comparison, our situation is ridiculous. Maybe I won't visit the biosphere reserve, but we can set sail and be on Lanzarote in two days.

At least it doesn't stink off Agadir, because the moorings in Mohammedia and Essaouira were a real olfactory challenge for me. I will probably never forget the smell of Mohammedia, it was a juicy mixture of an intense fishy odour mixed with heavy oil, as this was also stored in the harbour, and sewerage. The almost acrid odour permeated every crack in the air. Although we weren't in the harbour in Essaouira, the smell of fish was sensational here too. You usually get to see the picturesque harbour scenes, but not the smells. The boats that sailed in and out of the harbour at different times of day are either small nutshells and I wonder how they can withstand the big waves or they look like soul sellers. But the guys on deck seemed to be in a good mood most of the time! In Essaouira, they were delighted when I steered the little dinghy into the fish harbour, where we were allowed to moor at the gendarmerie boat to visit the pretty little town. Yes, I steered and got the engine started all by myself 😊.

As everywhere in Morocco, people are usually friendly, and this also applies to the police, customs and gendarmerie officers. The procedures take a really long time, you can get upset about them, but you don't have to. I try to take this in my stride, you can also learn a lot about the country from the officers. Everyone I asked loved their national dish, tajine and couscous. But mostly only the couscous that their mum prepares. One official wouldn't leave our side at all because he really wanted to practise his English. Perhaps that's a bit of practising being in the "here and now", not getting upset about things that you can't change anyway.

And in Agadir? Well, there wasn't that much of my serenity left when we were chased away from our first anchorage because it was too close to the beach and the jet skis, swimmers and SUBs were using us as a target. The second visit to the marina, this time with a small dinghy, was also unsuccessful. On the contrary, I thought we had only made things worse with our persistence. They seemed really annoyed with us. Friends in Berlin advised me to try "Bacchic". In Mohammedia, chocolate was popular with officials, but they asked us directly for it. However, I decided in favour of friendliness and gathered together my knowledge of intercultural communication. I wrote a very long message to the boss of the Mariana explaining why we wanted to go to the harbour so much. We were allowed to enter the harbour on Monday afternoon. They moved boats and cleared a jetty for us! Thank you Morocco. The marina staff also got chocolate without asking. A Moroccan once said to us "there are always problems, but somehow there is always a solution in the end". That's true and I've already learnt from this country that it's better not to worry so much about everything, it always works out somehow. Too many worries only make you ill and wrinkled. In fact, many older Moroccans still look young in old age, so maybe there's something to it!

I'm looking forward to telling you about the 1000 impressions I made in Germany!

And thank you very much for your comments, every single one is good and we are very happy about your sympathy. THANK YOU!!!