We're currently staying overnight on a farm in Namibia. About 1,000 hectares of bushveld, roughly 160 kilometers from Etosha National Park. From the terrace, you look out over a waterhole and into the distance. The farm is run by a couple in its fifth generation. Both are now in their seventies. After checking in, we sit together for a while. They tell us about the farm. And about the fact that they want to sell. One million euros. Buildings, vehicles, and equipment included.

Our vehicle has arrived in Namibia. We haven't, yet. A few days ago, the shipping company called. During transport, our overland expedition vehicle was broken into. We're sitting in Germany. Thousands of kilometers away. And we don't know what's actually missing. So far, only one thing is certain: most of our clothes were stolen. The hangers are still neatly in the closet. The clothes are gone. Photo: Our shipping agent in Namibia We'll only find out what else is missing once

What really makes a life successful? There are moments that seem unremarkable — and still set something in motion. At dinner, the child excitedly tells you about their day. You nod, ask questions — and notice at the same time that part of you is still in the afternoon's meeting. Your partner tells you about something important, and during the conversation your eyes already drift to the next message on your phone. An old friend gets in touch. The conversation is short, warm —