Unique Family Tour to Morocco

A Journey That Returned After Thirty Years

In 1995, I received a call from Mr. Ed Johnson of Richmond, Virginia. He had seen my small advertisement for Sarah Tours in International Travel News, a publication where travelers shared their experiences from around the world. Mr. Johnson had spent his entire career as a congressional staffer in Washington, D.C., and now, in retirement, he wanted to offer his family something special: a journey, a journey to Morocco.

He came to see me in person at my office in Alexandria, Virginia. We spoke at length about Morocco, about travel, about family. He was a devoted Democrat, which fit well with my own young Washingtonian spirit at the time, and we quickly found common ground. Together, we designed a 15-day journey to bring his children, their spouses, and grandchildren together for a family reunion in Morocco.

When everything was arranged, Mr. Johnson paid for the tour with great delight. I was so touched by the idea of this family gathering that I decided not to assign the trip to one of my guides. I wanted to accompany them myself.

We met at JFK Airport in New York. Some of the family came from Maryland, others from North Carolina, and a few even from Colorado. Fifteen travelers in all, excited to discover Morocco and to spend precious time together.

The tour was a joy. We traveled through the imperial cities, the mountains, the deserts, and the markets of Morocco. The family had members of different ages, and yet the group moved together in harmony. Everyone was curious, open, and eager to learn. I tried to offer them not only a tour, but a deeper cultural encounter with Morocco.

Among them was a nine-year-old girl, a delightful brunette with bright curiosity and endless questions. She followed me everywhere, asking about Morocco, people, language, and history. Her curiosity enchanted me, and I found myself answering her questions with the same enthusiasm with which she asked them.

At the end of the fifteen days, the family returned home happy, and as happens so often in life, time passed, and we gradually lost contact.

Thirty years later, I received a message from Saudi Arabia.

A young woman wrote to me introducing herself as the granddaughter of Mr. Ed Johnson. She sent a photograph of herself as a nine-year-old girl during the Morocco trip.

I recognized her immediately.

She told me that the journey to Morocco had shaped her life. That experience had awakened in her a passion for travel and the cultures of the Middle East. She had gone on to study Arabic, become a scholar of the region, and was now teaching in Saudi Arabia.

She said that during that trip, I had unknowingly become a role model for her, a window into the world of travel, culture, and curiosity.

Now it was her turn.

She wanted to bring her own family, her husband and two children, to Morocco, and she asked if I would help them discover the country as I had done for her family thirty years earlier.

Of course I did.

Helping her and her family experience Morocco became a journey filled with memories and reflections. At the end of the trip, she gave me a gift I will treasure for the rest of my life: an album of photographs from the tour thirty years ago, placed beside new photographs of her own family’s journey.

The album tells a quiet story.

It shows how time changes our faces.

But not our hearts.

In my life as a guide and tour operator, I have had the privilege of meeting thousands of travelers. Each journey leaves a trace.

But this one reminded me of something very simple:

Sometimes a journey does not end when the trip is over.

Sometimes it returns decades later.

And when it does, you realize that guiding someone through a place can also guide them through life.