(A quick post from the ferry from Marseille to Tangier.)
We’re having one of those ‘travelers’ trips, when you meet people you’re likely to never see again and talk about everything under the sun with no inhibitions. Jane, the septuagenarian half Dutch, half Jewish lady with six languages; the young Swiss Michaël, a Steiner school d.i.y. guy; Sheila, a young woman from Germany going to school in Amsterdam and traveling while she can, and I’ll include the bright young Nour, a winsome twelve year old Moroccan girl who lives in Italy, taking time away from her Italo Calvino to practice her English with us.
The boat is calmer than the first night, the passage taking 46ish hours. My partner gets seasick, so the flat sea is more conducive to him being perkier. We can see Spain on one side and shipping traffic on the other. We are lulled by the low rumbling of the motors, the almost imperceptible rock of the sea.
I’m re-reading the Aubrey/Maturin series, so I’m full of sea battles and ‘natural philosophy’. We’re out of the world for such a short time here on the ferry, and then we’ll be in Morocco. I imagine an explosion of sounds, colors and smells, of too much too fast, and then the planned trek in two weeks, when time will slow again.
Foro and I are just taking some time to watch the waves. It’s beautiful.