One Month

One month has passed here in Chefchaouen.
I remember when a month felt like a long time.
You would not believe how quickly time elapses on the road.
If you are a traveler, perhaps you know.

I am without anything to show for it.


Of this, I am perversely proud.


To enjoy your life, to live it for no other purpose than time is fleeting and the world is large.


This is a gigantic privilege, of course.


Travel reminds you of your privilege at every turn.


Unless, that is, youโ€™re a 20-year-old Aussie lad on holiday in Bali.


(Only love, Aussies)


I have met many Aussies in the past month.

Travel is endless meetings.
Many, many faces. Some beautiful souls.


Some long walks. Some lazy days. The occasional, legendary bout of ย drinking.

Many partings.

A few, we promise, will not be forever.


The sun-drenched haze of a place where clouds are rarely seen. The smell of hashish, coloring everything here, in the blue city.


In this way, a month has passed.


In this way, we pass a life.



9 thoughts on “One Month

  1. A mix of witty and wise words — my favorite kind of read. Hope you are doing fine and entitled 20-year-old Aussies aren’t bothering you too much.

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