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.
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, you’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 drinking.
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.