To describe the sights we’ve seen navigating down West Africa in our Mercedes 410D bus, Peppé, is a little difficult. One minute, we’re driving down a main village street where produce stall holders serve locals, and cafes overflow with happy faces enjoying Moroccan tea. But the next moment, we’re driving through areas so far from shops, facilities, and tarmac it’s like entering another world.

Since our vanlife journey began five or so years ago, we’ve always enjoyed getting off the beaten path, into rural areas where we find authentic scenes most often missed on the tourist trail. In Morocco, this means driving through some incredibly isolated villages where donkeys are the only transport and buildings are constructed from metal sheets, plastic, cob-style roofing, and various other materials.

Coming from the UK where we’ve been lucky enough to have access to fresh water, bathrooms, food, and comfort all of our lives, this is an entirely different way of life- one that, at times, is shocking. Maybe naivety is to blame. But neither Aidan nor I realised just how poor some areas of Morocco were. This hit particularly hard on the day we headed towards the northeastern city of Fez.

We set off early from a stunning spot near the El Wahda Dam and began the journey south. Civilisation seemed to slowly disappear. The only people we came across were those living in small villages in the middle of nowhere. It was like finding little pockets of life nestled in the desolate, unfamiliar scenery.

Over the years, we’ve met many people who have told us how great Morocco is and that we have to see it one day. But we’ve never been told about the volume of rubbish, endless stray animals, and people struggling in isolated areas.

When we made it closer to Fez, we parked up near another lake and made friends with a local shepherd called Hassan. He told us the ground we were parked on used to be the middle of the lake, but the water started drying up in the 1980s. Today, the surface area of the lake has shrunk an astonishing amount, and this has hugely impacted the locals and wildlife.

I asked Hassan about his situation during the relentless Moroccan summer months. He said it’s very difficult and at times, he struggles to find drinking water. I swallowed the lump in my throat and held back tears as he left to go back and tend to his animals. It’s incomprehensible to me that even during the sweltering 50°C+ weather, the kind man walking away from me doesn’t always know when his next drink of water will be.

Hearing his stories and bonding over tea was a humbling experience and put into perspective how much we take for granted in this world. Hassan’s smile radiated as he laughed and connected with us as though we were long-lost friends. Aidan even became a temporary shepherd of his five cows when some sheep escaped the herd! Saying goodbye was hard, but I vow to spread everything we experience in Morocco; the striking scenery, colourful medinas, and lively cities, but also the hardship we’ve witnessed in this country so far.

Lessons from our experience with Hassan, and the four weeks we’ve been in Morocco so far all centre GRATITUDE.

In some situations, it’s easy to adopt a negative mindset and get caught up in things that aren’t going as planned. But what about all of the things that are going just right?

Do you have access to clean, fresh water? Nourishing food? A toilet? Warm clothes? Shoes? Family and friends? Because these are the fundamentals of life. I believe modern society pushes us in a direction where we look at what’s missing from our lives, rather than focus on the things we already have. But it doesn’t have to be this way.

Practise gratitude and your life will change. You’ll start to notice every small, beautiful motion of life and become stronger when challenging times arrive.