France country roads were my way for about a day and a half. After picking up a professional coffee grinder, to complete the equipment I was to bring to the artist-coffee project in Dakhla I continued to the French border in the south of Germany. There I made camp just before the French border on a lonely field path near the road. Woken up by the sun and sounds of nature, as well as nature lovers on their morning walks, I got up to look for the stream I could hear running nearby. The riverbanks were covered with thick greens and time was pressing me to move on I gave up on a swim and went with a quick wash in my stainless-steel bowl makeshift sink and kept driving along beautiful, curvy country roads. Music playing loudly, me singing and taking in this unknown landscape, every once in a while, putting on a podcast to keep me in focus, I make my way to Soustons.

I chose not to drive on the highways for one, to save the crazy amount of money France collects for the use of these, and to see more of the country. I passed pictures towns, green fields, rugged mountains, and tick forests providing me with places to rest much more accommodating than loud, stinky, gas stations. Driving by myself I needed another night’s sleep before reaching the house with beautiful gardens near Soustons my old lover lived. Not having seen him in three years we spend a lovely evening catching up. Though my Partner was awaiting my arrival in Tanger, and I was eager to reunite with him after almost two months I decided to spend the day in Soustons enjoying my company and a quick surf in lovely mellow waves. I moved on in the evening and still made a couple of hundred kilometres before pulling up on another quiet spot along the road to get some rest. I needed another two full days to reach the port of Tarifa just missing the last ferry across on Saturday night. There was a big confusion at the office, whether cars could be booked onto the first ferry in the morning or not and I spend over an hour with several Dutch-Moroccan families trying to get tickets. By the time the system was back up and everything sorted I have around five hours until I need to be back at the port, therefore I was happy to find a parking spot on the road nearby and ignoring the cars and party goers I got a little bit of sleep, not to arrive in a very grumpy mood. 

At seven in the morning, we set sails for the crossing so much wanted and yet impossible for many coming the other direction. About halfway through the journey I realised, all the people were not cueing to get coffee but to get their passports stamped and cars registered so I had to join in. Customs are conveniently operating on board and are very friendly, I could pass even though I didn’t have the required paperwork to travel with my moms car, I thankfully accepted my privilege of an innocent looking white woman and got the paperwork done just as the ropes were being thrown on the pier in Tanger.