Who actually owns whom here?

What would it be like to own a farm like this?

The thought comes automatically. We're currently staying overnight on farms in Namibia — some over 20,000 hectares, with granite massifs and valleys that have existed for more than 130 million years.

I'm a Swabian. “Work hard, build your house” isn't just a folk saying to me — it's part of how I was raised.

A few years ago, I probably would have asked about the price first. Today I first ask myself how often I would even be here. Then I look at these rocks.

This landscape was here long before us. And it will still be here long after we're gone.

What does it actually mean to own a place like this?

Since we've been traveling in our overland expedition vehicle, with no fixed place and an open horizon every morning, I find myself thinking about this question more often.

With every piece of property come decisions, responsibility, and obligations. There's nothing wrong with that. But it's a trade-off. I notice that I weigh that trade-off more consciously today than I did a few years ago.

I don't have a final answer to this myself. The wish to build and own something is still in me. But today I ask myself more often whether what I want to own actually fits the life I want to lead.

I'm glad about what we've built. At the same time, I enjoy that our life today leaves room for trips like this one. Maybe it's the vastness of this country. Maybe it's that, standing among rocks 130 million years old, you notice how small some questions suddenly become.

What belongs to you — and what does it hold onto you in return?