I like travelling by ship. In these times of speed and crowded skies, ships are a luxury. You can take your time moving around. It is an opportunity to create space and prepare yourself to get into a new rhythm.

This summer I was on the Marrakesh, a magnificent steamer that sails the crossing between Sète in southern France and Tangier in northern Morocco.

No sooner had we set off than a short man in his fifties came up, arms open wide, and greeted me with a hug. I had never seen this man before. I was rather taken aback and said nothing. It must surely be a misapprehension, I had been mistaken for someone else. No, it was nothing like that at all. The man reassured me.

New World (Part Three)
Looking for Jiří Wolf