To travel to the desert

It’s time to go back to Mauritania. Either on Wednesday or whenever my friend will be leaving, I am patiently (and eagerly) waiting for the reply on whether I can catch a ride with him or not. If I can’t, I’m leaving on Wednesday for Spain, spend a couple of days resting in the sun before catching a ride with someone to Morocco.

I’ve been to Morocco twice before, last time it looked a bit like this.


Do you understand my eagerness to get there now? And after a week or so in Morocco and Western Sahara, I will enter Mauritania for the second time of my life.

Last night on the dance floor with some friends I got all these crazy butterflies of excitement when I realized that in a week or two, all these party-dressed crazy guys will be exchanged for men wearing bobos with their heads wrapped in cloth, and the glittery girls will be exchanged for women in long colourful garments. The hiphop with heavy beats will be exchanged for prayers five times a day and catchy Arabic music with a lot of African influences.

I want to jump all over the apartment and scream: I CAN’T WAIT! But my flatmate just went to sleep so I’d better not. But, seriously, I can’t wait to get going.
Oooooh now all those butterflies are back!


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