January 19th, 2026

Philippe Selot
Jan 19
4 min read

This weekend offered a most welcome pause. Deniz came to visit me. On Saturday morning, he went to the garden to harvest the last vegetables of the season: leeks and kale. As there was still a pumpkin left, we prepared a homemade soup. In the afternoon, I even dared to go out for a short ride on my scooter to do a little shopping, of course with Deniz’s invaluable help. Everything went smoothly, and leaving the flat, even briefly, did me a great deal of good. I also took the opportunity to buy everything needed for a cheese fondue. In the evening, we enjoyed this great winter classic: a moitié-moitié made with Vacherin Fribourgeois and Gruyère, accompanied by a bottle of Saint-Saphorin. A simple, warm and almost therapeutic moment, proof that recovery also comes through culinary pleasure.

The day after the fiercely contested and much-debated final of the 2025 AFCON, which saw Morocco lose to Senegal, I received a rather unexpected WhatsApp message. It came from the son of the owner of the Atlas View campsite near Ouarzazate. Ouarzazate lies to the south of the High Atlas, where the landscape gradually gives way to an arid, almost desert-like environment. In summer, temperatures regularly reach around 40°C, and rainfall is rare, if not virtually non-existent. This extreme climate is one of the reasons why NOOR, the world’s largest solar power plant, was built there, a symbol of a region looking towards the energy of the future. My stay at Atlas View campsite was, without any hesitation, the most enjoyable part of my entire journey through Morocco (see the blog entry for day 18 of my trip, 3 May 2024). Staying in touch with the owning family always brings me great pleasure. The message contained some surprising photographs: snow had fallen in the region. A completely unusual weather event for an area traditionally known for its dryness and near-desert conditions. Needless to say, the buildings are not designed for such temperatures, nor are the inhabitants equipped with suitable clothing for winter conditions. Yet, as is often the case, every medal has two sides or rather, a brighter one. Morocco is currently facing a serious water shortage, and many plantations have dried out. In this context, the snowfall is an unexpected blessing: a source of water that is as rare as it is precious. Further proof that even in the most arid regions, nature can still surprise us and remind us that it ultimately always has the final word. One image found online is particularly striking: it shows a satellite view of Morocco in January 2025 compared with January 2026. The difference is remarkable. In the space of just one year, the landscape appears significantly greener, as if nature had regained its colour after a long period of restraint. Seen from above, this image confirms what the recent snowfall already suggests on the ground: despite a harsh climate and persistent aridity, increased water inputs are beginning to have an effect. Vegetation is returning where, only a year ago, ochre and dusty tones dominated. A powerful visual reminder that natural balances can change rapidly when conditions allow and that a simple change in the weather can sometimes restore hope to an entire region.

Recovery at home is progressing well overall, even if it is not entirely free of small obstacles. Pain is almost non-existent, apart from persistent itching around the scars. According to the specialists, this is rather an encouraging sign, even if it is far from pleasant on a day-to-day basis.

It is also worth noting an important step in this phase of recovery: I have stopped taking all the painkillers that were prescribed to me in hospital. As the pain has become minimal and perfectly manageable, it no longer seemed either necessary or reasonable to continue “loading myself with chemicals” without genuine need. A considered decision, in line with how I feel, and part of a more attentive and measured approach to convalescence.

Over the past week, I visited the wound-care specialist twice, who carried out a meticulous cleaning of the scars. One of them shows slight inflammation, though nothing of concern. The scar that had required a return to hospital, on the other hand, has healed perfectly. The stitches were removed, marking an important milestone in this journey. The cast, however, remains an imposed companion, to be worn at all times. It can be cumbersome, and while the finish line is still some distance away, it is clearly in sight: another two to two and a half months before I can finally do without it.

This morning, I returned once again to the cast specialist who has accompanied me since the beginning of this long adventure. Highly communicative, he manages to turn every appointment into a genuine moment of exchange. Far from being routine, these consultations are always lively and stimulating. Given the current geopolitical context, I will let you imagine the nature of our discussions as he carefully shaped my new cast. As the cast takes form, ideas flow, and time passes surprisingly quickly. Before that, he removed the stitches from the large scar, a task that proved more complex than expected. The sutures had not been placed in a particularly practical way for later removal, so the knots had to be patiently located. A delicate exercise, and not without consequence: the scar partially reopened. There is no cause for concern, however. The specialist will inform the surgeon to ensure appropriate follow-up. Just one more small episode along this path of care, a reminder that healing is rarely a straight line, but rather a journey marked by adjustments, animated discussions… and new casts.