After all the feelings that arose from the meeting with the migrants in Ceuta, we continued to the next border we were to cross on our trip: the one that divides Morocco and Spain (Ceuta). The one that all these migrants have come to cross – but in the opposite direction. Leaving Ceuta and Europe also meant saying goodbye to a well-known environment and driving into new countries where none of us had ever been.
The administrative procedure at the border turned out to be quite long and confusing, especially for declaring the vehicle. Also, Peter thought he would declare his big camera, knowing that if not, he could have problems while leaving the country. But when just mentioned a camera to the first police officer we had the answer “Journalist? Turn around and go back”. When then decided that it was probably better just to pass the border and hope they didn’t open exactly that bag in the front seat.
When we arrived in Morocco, it was already dark. We had crossed a time zone and seen the moon changing position. Half of the trip behind us, half of it in front of us. Sousou had some contacts in Morocco and it was good to have instructions on where to go. We headed towards Larachi, a small town on the way to Rabat. There we found a hotel with internet connection and in front of it a small bakery with wonderful and very cheap breakfast. We went up early, at 6 am local time (7 am in Sweden) in order to arrive in Rabat in time for depositing the demand for our Mauritanian visas.