NYK—mag 0425
05. Bsslama
Standing in Tangier, looking back at the country one last time, I had to listen to a final song.
There is no better choice than something from the album “Encuentros” mentioned earlier. For me, the perfect farewell is “Dame La Libertad.” The title means “Give Me Freedom,” and it carries a powerful message after being in a land where the first inhabitants are the Berbers, or Amazighs, the free people. These people settled here nearly 8,000 years ago. Over time, they faced many civilizations and retreated to the mountains to protect their culture. Despite countless challenges they have endured, their traditions continue. Yet globalization is slowly reshaping the world, and ancient cultures struggle to resist modern change. The song itself blends influences from both sides of the strait, reflecting the complexity and rich mosaic of people who call this place home. On my way to Spain that was the perfect transition.
Musically this country showed so much richness with a high diversity of genre that always reflect a place or a piece of history from the inhabitants. The music displayed here is only a fraction of what it has to offer. In the playlist attached you can find the tracks mentioned but also many more. It represents nothing compared to how rich it is and will hopefully give you enough references to get deeper into it. Make your own opinion and find your bangers.
Traveling through remote areas, I often felt I was journeying through Amazigh lands more than Morocco itself. These people are the heart of the country’s culture but are sometimes overlooked. Some live far from everything, following their own rhythm, with older generations who don’t even speak Arabic. It’s not an exaggeration to say Morocco has two faces. Thanks to their warmth and hospitality, I felt a part of their culture. We never asked for anything and never lacked. When times were hard, someone was always there to offer help, food, or shelter.
On a personal note, traveling by bike was the purest form of freedom I have ever known. For a whole month, we moved as we pleased, sometimes changing plans at the last minute. The only times we felt tied down were when we depended on buses or other vehicles to reach places faster. This journey has forever changed how I see travel. The hardship and long effort give you space to reflect on your inner struggles. It took every ounce of energy I had. I return home sore and exhausted, craving days of rest just to process everything. I lived this trip fully and returned with a mind that has grown.
I hope these words inspire anyone who reads them to rethink what travel means. By definition travel is going from one place to another. And that implies meeting people, sharing moments, engaging in conversations, staying curious and open. It is through others that we truly learn, not just from ourselves.
We had some expectations, but honestly, we didn’t really know what to expect. Leaving with almost no plan was the best way to let the journey take the lead. It brought us incredible encounters and stunning places we never imagined. Every day pushed us out of our comfort zone in ways we didn’t see coming.
Without you, my brother Grégoire, none of it would have been the same. What we shared wasn’t just a moment in time. We saw each other at our lowest and somehow always found a way to lift one another up. To those last 20 kilometers of a stage that “should have been easy” but turned into a nightmare, to the moments we lost our way, to all the random situations that gave us endless stories, to the times when exhaustion and breathtaking landscapes left us speechless. Those memories will stay forever. The people we met who became friends, the challenges we faced together, all of it shaped this experience. Alone, I don’t think either of us would have made it through so many tough stages or pushed as hard. But together, we found a rhythm, moved as one, and kept going.
The greatest lesson we learned is simple but powerful: even with strangers, you should always help each other. We’re all in this together. And there’s no better way to understand that than with a brother by your side. What a life lesson it was.
Words can’t fully say how much this means, but I know you know.
Thank you,
Bisous Khouya
text: Antoine Rouaud
pictures: Antoine Rouaud and Grégoire Fauquenoi
pictures editing: Grégoire Fauquenoi