March 31, 2026

👁️Meet my Italian Blog guest Silvia Tavascia from Milan


It’s been a while since I last welcomed a guest to the blog and I couldn’t think of a more inspiring artist to return with.

Today, I’m introducing you to the Italian composer Silvia Tavascia from Milan. She has recently released a stunning instrumental album featuring ten deeply atmospheric and emotionally rich tracks, now available across all major streaming platforms.

What makes Silvia’s journey especially remarkable is how she creates. While she has recently begun studying orchestration, her core approach remains deeply intuitive—she still composes primarily by ear, thinking less in traditional notes and more in hand positions on the piano. It’s a fascinating balance between instinct and structure: on one side, a spontaneous and emotional way of writing; on the other, a growing exploration of musical theory and harmony.

Without following a conventional path, she has developed a unique creative language that translates pure feeling directly into sound. In a world where many believe artistry must follow strict rules, Silvia is living proof that creativity can begin anywhere—and evolve in its own way, especially in a time where technology opens new doors for independent musicians.

I first connected with Silvia through Instagram, where so many independent artists quietly build, support, and uplift each other. Beyond her undeniable talent, she has shown up with generosity and kindness at moments when I truly needed it. That kind of presence doesn’t go unnoticed. From one artist to another, I have deep respect not only for her work, but for the person she is behind it - warm, genuine, and incredibly supportive.

It’s an absolute pleasure to have her here today.

I’ve listened to all ten tracks on her album, and each one carries its own emotional fingerprint. As a producer and lyricist myself, I know that no piece of music exists without a story behind it - sometimes spoken, sometimes felt.

So let’s dive a little deeper. First of all welcome to my Q & A. Let’s talk about your musical background?

I started singing in a gothic metal band when I was 18. That experience lasted 12 years and gave me so much. It introduced me to the expressive and communicative power of music, as well as the importance of the human side of every artist. In the band, I wrote lyrics and vocal lines, but I’ve always had a natural inclination for arranging songs with orchestral elements.

 

After the band broke up, I stepped away from music for a while. Discovering accessible technologies, like apps that allow you to compose music directly on your phone, brought me back to it—helping me reconnect, understand myself better, and express myself through music once again.

 

What inspired you to become a composer?

 

I’d say it’s been a natural journey… I’ve followed my instincts and my tastes, which have evolved over time. I’ve collaborated—and I’m currently collaborating—with an emerging director, and I’m writing some pieces for his second feature film.

I also study film acting, so all these worlds intersect and make me feel complete from an artistic and expressive point of view.

 

What is your typical workflow…?

 

It’s rare for me to start with a clear idea in mind. I usually just sit at the piano and begin to play, exploring chords and improvising melodies. Sometimes I feel an inner “click,” a kind of resonance—and that’s when I know the melody truly belongs to me. I record it, and then shape it over time, like working with clay.

 

Often, I become aware of my own emotions through what I create. It’s a form of self-analysis… like a page from a diary that we choose to share with the world.

 

What song are you most attached to from your album?

 

The song Deprivation, although connected to the pain of losing a parent, is something that helps me not to forget. When you lose someone important, the pain and the sense of absence—or deprivation—become the emotions that keep you connected to your memories and allow you to hold on to them.

 

I was especially drawn to your 5th track, The First Kiss”, and your 8th track, The Art of Connections.There’s something very intimate and evocative about both of them. What inspired these two pieces? 

 

The First Kiss is a song about the emotions of a first-time experience—a mix of fears, but also a beautiful excitement for something new and meaningful, like the beginning of a love story and that very first kiss. These are unforgettable moments that stay with us forever.

 

The Art of Connections, on the other hand, is one of the tracks where I experimented with blending orchestral and electronic sounds. It reflects the human need to create deep and meaningful connections.

 

Both songs share a sense of openness to new experiences, which is an essential part of who I am.

 

I love the meaning behind both songs. Who designed your album cover, and what message or feeling did you want it to convey?

 

For the cover of this project, I went to a photography studio specialized in iris photography. The eyes have a powerful ability to reveal who we are—if you look closely, you can notice colors and shades that usually go unseen. The same is true for people: we are made up of countless nuances that only a few are able to truly perceive.

 

That’s why the album is called INNER SPECTRUM. Every song is a shade of who I am.


Before releasing the album, I put out a series of singles featuring the same iris as the cover, presented in black and white with just one color highlighted—because each song represented a single, specific shade of my inner spectrum.

 

Fascinating, love the concept behind the design. Tell me how long did you work on this album from the first idea to the final release?

 

It took me almost a year. Many of the songs were written specifically for this project, while others are older pieces that I revisited and refined, because they still reflect who I am today.

 

As a lyricist, I have to ask you this question. Without lyrics, how do you tell a story or convey emotion through your music?

 

Music is a powerful form of communication, and the feedback I receive is that what I write resonates deeply with people on an emotional level. The melodic development and the harmonic changes I like to use to create emotional dynamics can feel like a journey or a story without words.

 

Was there a moment during this album where you felt stuck or unsure? How did you move through it?

 

Absolutely! I think it’s common for many artists to never feel completely satisfied with their work, because a strong sense of self-criticism constantly pushes us to do more. At the same time, every artist follows their own path, with its own timing—and I’ve learned to respect mine.

 

Do you prefer listeners to interpret your music freely, or do you have specific stories in mind for each track?

 

In general, I prefer to let everyone experience music freely, without influencing listeners too much with the specific meaning a song has for me. That said, I’m always delighted when someone is curious to know why I wrote a particular song.

 

As an independent artist, what has been the biggest challenge in releasing your music so far?

 

I love writing music, and I’m constantly working to improve the quality of what I create, which requires a great deal of effort. At the same time, I have to manage my social media and produce engaging content to promote myself, and that can sometimes be very demanding.


Still, the warmth and support of people like you, whom I’ve met through music, is an incredibly rewarding experience.

 

How do you want your music to make people feel?

 

I would like people to not feel alone, but understood. I want them to feel that their emotions are never wrong, and that many others experience the same uncertainties, the same joy, and the same hope for the future.

I’d love for my music to touch something deep within them, and at the same time say, “It’s the same for me.” I believe that’s the true magic of music.

I have to say how truly glad and grateful I am for this spring-inspired and empowering Q&A. It’s been such a joy to read your answers, and I’m wishing you all the best with this wonderful album—an album filled with love and passion in every single track.

I hope people connect with your work just as deeply as they connect with this Q&A, where they get the chance to discover the beautiful person and artist behind each meaningful song. Keep up the amazing work, and thank you for being such a kind, supportive, and inspiring fellow indie artist.

If you’d like to stay connected with Silvia’s work and follow her musical journey, you can find her on her socials here:

Album link

Instagram       Facebook     Youtube



March 28, 2026

💔One Month Later: What Exactly Was the Point?


One Month Later: What Exactly Was the Point?

Today marks one month since the escalation of violence involving the United States, Israel, and Iran.

And I’m still asking the same question:

What exactly was the point?

Because if, as American officials have repeatedly stated in recent weeks, “regime change is not the goal and never was,” then what are we looking at?

A war without an outcome.
Destruction without responsibility.
Violence without a plan.

According to multiple international reports, hundreds of civilians' residential areas, hospitals, and essential services - has been damaged or destroyed. Humanitarian organizations warn that millions could be affected if the situation continues. This is not a strategy. This is devastation.

And yet, the messaging remains: no regime change, no long-term plan.

So again—what was the point?


I Don’t Celebrate Death - Not Even Theirs

Let me be clear about something before anyone tries to twist my words:

Yes, this regime has committed serious crimes. Yes, it has shown little regard for human life. Yes, countless innocent people have suffered under it.

But I do not celebrate death. Not even theirs.

Because reducing human life to something “deserved” is exactly how cycles of violence continue.

For many people, the leader of that regime was not just a political figure. He was a symbol, even a spiritual authority - comparable, for some, to how others view religious leaders.

You don’t have to agree with that. But you cannot ignore what that loss represents to millions.


The Thank You That Makes No Sense

What has shocked me most over the past weeks is something I genuinely cannot understand:

Iranians - inside and outside the country - posting “thank you” messages to Donald Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu.

Thank you… for what exactly?

For bombing your homeland?
For destroying cities you claim to love?
For deepening trauma that will last generations?

This is not liberation. This is not support. This is destruction—plain and simple.

Cultural heritage sites, museums, and historic areas have reportedly been damaged or threatened. And even when numbers are debated, the pattern is clear: war does not preserve culture - it erases it.

So I’m asking openly:

Why are you thanking the ones contributing to that destruction?


Let’s Stop Pretending There Is Unity

There’s another uncomfortable truth people don’t want to hear:

There is no real hambastegi - no real unity.

Let’s be honest.

Different groups are already positioning themselves:

  • Pahlavi supporters
  • Mojahedin factions
  • Various opposition movements

Each one believes they will rebuild Iran.

But rebuild what?

Within weeks, entire neighborhoods have been damaged. Infrastructure is unstable. And more importantly:

An entire population is traumatized.

People are not thinking about political systems right now.
They are thinking about survival.

About whether they will wake up tomorrow.


The Reality No One Talks About

Yesterday, after weeks of silence, we finally heard from relatives.

They are alive.

But they are living through hell.

Their street has been attacked.
Their workplace area has been attacked.
Everything familiar has turned into a threat.

This is the same family I once wrote about in “Sky, 12 Days of Terror.”

And now they are back in that nightmare.

Except this time, it’s worse.

They ask questions I cannot answer:

What is the world saying about us?
Is there hope?
Will this end?

What am I supposed to tell them?

The truth?

That there is no clear plan.
No clear end.
No guarantee of safety.

How do you comfort someone when even the global narrative is uncertain?


And Then There Is the Silence Around Us

And here’s the part that broke something in me on a different level:

Not one person around us here in Zurich - neighbors, acquaintances, even people who call themselves friends - reached out.

Not one simple message:

Are you okay?
Are your loved ones safe?

Nothing.

That kind of silence is its own kind of violence.

It shows how quickly empathy disappears when the suffering is not right in front of you.

And honestly?

It makes me sick. These people have no heart. No emotion. We don't only live in a ghost house, we live in a ghost town, a ghost country! 


Trying to Function While Falling Apart

On the outside, I keep going.

I work on my music. I focus on my Egyptian album. I try to stay productive.

But inside?

I’m furious.
I’m exhausted.
And at any moment, I could break down.

This is what it looks like to live between two realities:

One where life goes on.

And one where everything is falling apart.


Final Question

If there is no plan for change,
no plan for rebuilding,
no plan for peace

Then what exactly are people dying for?

And maybe the most bitter irony of all: the same country that warns the world about nuclear threats is also the only one that has ever used nuclear weapons in war - killing over 150,000 people in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, most of them civilians

💔Ein Monat spĂ€ter: Was war eigentlich der Sinn?


Ein Monat spÀter: Was war eigentlich der Sinn?

Heute ist genau ein Monat vergangen, seit der Eskalation der Gewalt zwischen den USA, Israel und dem Iran.

Und ich stelle mir immer noch dieselbe Frage:

Was war eigentlich der Sinn?

Denn wenn, wie amerikanische Offizielle in den letzten Wochen mehrfach betont haben, Regime Change ist kein Ziel und war es nie“, was sehen wir dann hier?

Einen Krieg ohne Ergebnis.
Zerstörung ohne Verantwortung.
Gewalt ohne Plan.

Laut internationalen Berichten wurden bereits in den ersten Wochen Hunderte Zivilisten getötet oder verletzt. Kritische Infrastruktur - Wohngebiete, KrankenhÀuser und grundlegende Versorgungseinrichtungen - wurde beschÀdigt oder zerstört. Hilfsorganisationen warnen, dass Millionen Menschen betroffen sein könnten, wenn die Situation anhÀlt.

Das ist keine Strategie. Das ist VerwĂŒstung.

Und trotzdem bleibt die Botschaft dieselbe: kein Regimewechsel, kein langfristiger Plan.

Also nochmal - was war der Sinn?


Ich feiere keinen Tod - nicht einmal ihren

Eines will ich ganz klar sagen, bevor jemand meine Worte verdreht:

Ja, dieses Regime hat schwere Verbrechen begangen. Ja, es hat wenig Respekt vor Menschenleben gezeigt. Ja, unzÀhlige unschuldige Menschen haben darunter gelitten.

Aber ich feiere keinen Tod. Nicht einmal ihren.

Denn sobald wir anfangen, menschliches Leben als „verdient“ zu bewerten, befinden wir uns genau in dem Kreislauf der Gewalt, den wir eigentlich kritisieren.

FĂŒr viele Menschen war dieser AnfĂŒhrer nicht nur eine politische Figur. Er war ein Symbol, fĂŒr manche sogar eine spirituelle AutoritĂ€t - vergleichbar damit, wie andere religiöse FĂŒhrungspersonen sehen.

Man muss das nicht teilen. Aber man kann nicht ignorieren, was dieser Verlust fĂŒr Millionen bedeutet.


Dieses „Danke“, das keinen Sinn ergibt

Was mich in den letzten Wochen am meisten schockiert hat, ist etwas, das ich wirklich nicht verstehen kann:

Iraner - im Inland wie im Ausland - die auf Social Media „Danke“ sagen an Donald Trump und Benjamin Netanyahu.

Danke… wofĂŒr genau?

DafĂŒr, dass euer Heimatland bombardiert wird?
DafĂŒr, dass StĂ€dte zerstört werden, die ihr angeblich liebt?
DafĂŒr, dass ein Trauma geschaffen wird, das Generationen ĂŒberdauern wird?

Das ist keine Befreiung. Das ist keine Hilfe. Das ist Zerstörung - nichts anderes.

Kulturelle StÀtten, Museen und historische Orte wurden beschÀdigt oder sind bedroht. Und selbst wenn Zahlen diskutiert werden, bleibt eines klar:

Krieg bewahrt keine Kultur - er löscht sie aus.

Also frage ich ganz offen:

Warum bedankt ihr euch bei denen, die genau das verursachen?


Hören wir auf, von Einheit zu sprechen

Es gibt noch eine unbequeme Wahrheit, die viele nicht hören wollen:

Es gibt keine echte Hambastegi - keine wirkliche Einheit.

Seien wir ehrlich.

Verschiedene Gruppen positionieren sich bereits:

  • Pahlavi-AnhĂ€nger
  • Mojahedin
  • weitere Oppositionsbewegungen

Jede dieser Gruppen glaubt, sie könne den Iran neu aufbauen.

Aber was genau wollt ihr aufbauen?

Innerhalb weniger Wochen wurden ganze Stadtteile beschÀdigt. Infrastruktur ist instabil. Und vor allem:

Eine ganze Bevölkerung ist traumatisiert.

Die Menschen denken gerade nicht an politische Systeme.
Sie denken ans Überleben.

Daran, ob sie morgen noch leben.


Die RealitĂ€t, ĂŒber die niemand spricht

Gestern haben wir nach Wochen endlich ein Lebenszeichen von Verwandten erhalten.

Sie leben.

Aber sie gehen durch die Hölle.

Ihre Straße wurde angegriffen.
Die Straße, in der sie arbeiten, wurde angegriffen.
Alles Vertraute ist zur Bedrohung geworden.

Das ist dieselbe Familie, ĂŒber die ich in meiner Geschichte „Sky, 12 Tage des Terrors“ geschrieben habe.

Und jetzt sind sie wieder in diesem Albtraum.

Nur schlimmer.

Sie stellen Fragen, auf die ich keine Antworten habe:

Was sagt die Welt ĂŒber uns?
Gibt es Hoffnung?
Wird das enden?

Was soll ich ihnen sagen?

Die Wahrheit?

Dass es keinen klaren Plan gibt.
Kein klares Ende.
Keine Sicherheit.

Wie tröstet man jemanden, wenn selbst die Welt keine Antworten hat?


Und dann ist da noch das Schweigen hier

Und hier ist der Teil, der mich auf eine ganz andere Weise getroffen hat:

Nicht eine einzige Person um uns herum hier in ZĂŒrich - Nachbarn, Bekannte, sogar sogenannte Freunde - hat sich gemeldet.

Nicht eine einzige einfache Frage:

Geht es euch gut?
Sind eure Liebsten in Sicherheit?

Nichts.

Diese Art von Schweigen ist eine eigene Form von Gewalt.

Denn sie zeigt, wie schnell MitgefĂŒhl verschwindet, wenn das Leid nicht direkt vor der eigenen HaustĂŒr stattfindet.

Und ganz ehrlich?

Es macht mich krank. Es ist zum Kotzen. Keine Menschlichkeit. Kein Herz. Wir leben nicht nur in einem Geisterhaus, wir leben in einer Geisterstadt & einem Land. 


Funktionieren, wÀhrend man innerlich zerbricht

Nach aussen hin mache ich weiter. Ich arbeite. Ich konzentriere mich auf mein Ă€gyptisches Album. Ich versuche, produktiv und kreativ zu bleiben.

Aber innerlich?

Bin ich wĂŒtend.
Erschöpft.
Und jederzeit kurz davor, in TrÀnen auszubrechen.

So fĂŒhlt es sich an, zwischen zwei RealitĂ€ten zu leben:

Eine, in der das Leben weitergeht.

Und eine, in der alles auseinanderfÀllt.


Die letzte Frage

Wenn es keinen Plan fĂŒr VerĂ€nderung gibt,
keinen Plan fĂŒr Wiederaufbau,
keinen Plan fĂŒr Frieden

WofĂŒr sterben dann Menschen?

Und vielleicht die bitterste Ironie von allem: Dass genau das Land, das heute vor nuklearen Gefahren warnt, auch das Einzige ist, das jemals Atomwaffen im Krieg eingesetzt hat - mit ĂŒber 150.000 Toten in Hiroshima und Nagasaki, die meisten davon Zivilisten.

March 23, 2026

🐬The Story Behind the Songs “Red Sea Dolphins” and “Where Is My Ring?”💍

Who would have thought that a sleepless, slightly dizzy morning on a windy day in Hurghada would turn into the spark for not just one - but two songs on my album “Echoes of the Nile– Modern Egypt Lights”?

Definitely not me.

In fact, I almost didn’t go.

I was feeling nauseous, tired, and honestly not in the mood for a day trip. The only reason we ended up on that boat? One very persuasive member of our travel group who convinced us to join her and her husband on this “optional adventure.”
(Optional… sure. 😄)

At 6:00 AM sharp, we were picked up from our hotel. After a short drive, we arrived at the Red Sea - windy, bright, and already looking far too adventurous for my liking. There it was: our boat, and a crew welcoming us with warm smiles that felt slightly suspicious at that hour.

We sat on the windy deck while Adam explained the schedule for the day. Meanwhile, my inner monologue was going full drama mode:

“What am I doing here? This is how it ends. I will not survive this boat trip.”

Cold. Windy. Shaky. Dramatic.

Thankfully, Adam came to the rescue - not just with his calm energy and gorgeous smile, but with anti-nausea medication. I took two.

Survival mode: activated.

The two-hour ride into the Red Sea felt endless at first. Waves, wind, and my life flashing before my eyes. My poor mum wasn’t feeling great either - she had been struggling with a bad cold for days.

But slowly, something shifted.

The sun grew warmer, the sea calmer, and the views… breathtaking. What started as a survival mission turned into something almost peaceful.

I didn’t go snorkeling - the water was a little too ambitious for my skin - but watching everything from the boat was already magical. It was our first time in the Red Sea, our first time on a snorkeling trip… and then it happened:

Dolphins.

Real dolphins. Not on a screen. Not in a documentary. Right there, just a few meters away from us.

It was one of those rare, quiet moments where everything just clicks.

Pure magic.

And while I stayed dry, I could only imagine how emotional it must feel to swim right next to them. That moment stayed with me - and later found its way into my song Red Sea Dolphins.”

But what impressed me just as much as the dolphins was the people.

The professionalism of the crew - and honestly, of everyone we met in Egypt - was incredible. From hotel staff to drivers, guides, and this boat crew… everything was so well organized, so thoughtful, so intentional. You could feel that they genuinely cared.

And here’s the truth: they work incredibly hard. Much harder than most people in Europe, and often for a fraction of the salary.

They don’t do it for the money.

They do it because they take pride in giving people an unforgettable experience.

That’s hospitality. The real kind.

The crew from Delfinausflug.de was amazing - especially for German-speaking guests from Germany, Austria, and Switzerland. Even those snorkeling for the first time felt safe and supported.

Everyone had their role: one person capturing photos, another filming underwater, someone managing the small transfer boat, the captain steering us through the waves - and then there was the cook.

Let me tell you: watching one person prepare breakfast and lunch for nearly 25 guests in a tiny kitchen?

That was a performance in itself.

There was always tea, coffee, and drinks available, and somehow, in the middle of the sea, they made everything feel… comfortable. Almost like home.

If you ever find yourself in Hurghada and dream of seeing dolphins, I can truly recommend Mo’s team from Delfinausflug.de.

You’ll be taken care of from start to finish.

And who knows…

Maybe your trip will inspire something unforgettable too.

For me, it didn’t just become a memory - it became music.

That day later turned into not one, but two songs on my album. And honestly, I believe Where Is My Ring? might just be the perfect soundtrack for a marriage proposal on the Red Sea.

Imagine this: dolphins nearby, the sun setting, the waves gently moving… and then your partner presses play.

Yes. I’m absolutely saying you should do it. 😄

So if you’re planning a trip - why not make it unforgettable?

Book the adventure. Bring the ring. And don’t forget the song.

And if you’re wondering whether my lyrics are fiction or inspired by real events and conversations…

let me just say this:

Every word in that song is true.

And yes - I’m still waiting for my ring from Adam. 😄


Fun Fact & Song Lyrics: Only after producing the song did I do some research and find out that a dolphin can actually cost between €50,000 and €100,000 - not for private individuals, of course, but for marine parks.

In comparison, a camel (which was traditionally part of a dowry in some Arab countries) costs only around $500 to $5,000, depending on age and breed.

Which means: A dolphin is about 10 to 50 times more valuable than a camel.

So… even if no ring is found (although I would obviously insist on one):
12 dolphins might still be an acceptable offer. 😄


🐬Die Geschichte hinter den Songs „Red Sea Dolphins“ und „Where Is My Ring?“💍


Wer hĂ€tte gedacht, dass ein schlafloser, leicht schwindeliger Morgen an einem windigen Tag in Hurghada zur Inspiration fĂŒr nicht nur einen – sondern gleich zwei Songs auf meinem Album Echoes of the Nile – Modern Egypt Lights werden wĂŒrde?

Ganz sicher nicht ich.

Eigentlich wÀre ich fast gar nicht mitgegangen.

Mir war ĂŒbel, ich war mĂŒde und ehrlich gesagt ĂŒberhaupt nicht in der Stimmung fĂŒr einen Tagesausflug. Der einzige Grund, warum ich am Ende auf diesem Boot gelandet bin? Ein sehr ĂŒberzeugendes Mitglied unserer Reisegruppe, das uns ĂŒberredet hat, sie und ihren Mann auf dieses „optionale Abenteuer“ zu begleiten.
(Optional… klar. 😄)

PĂŒnktlich um 6:00 Uhr morgens wurden wir von unserem Hotel abgeholt. Nach einer kurzen Fahrt erreichten wir das Rote Meer - windig, hell und schon jetzt viel zu abenteuerlich fĂŒr meinen Geschmack.

Und da war es: unser Boot. Und eine Crew, die uns mit warmen LĂ€cheln begrĂŒĂŸte, die um diese Uhrzeit fast schon ein bisschen verdĂ€chtig wirkte.

Wir saßen auf dem windigen Deck, wĂ€hrend Adam den Tagesablauf erklĂ€rte. WĂ€hrenddessen lief mein innerer Monolog auf Hochtouren:

„Was mache ich hier? So endet das also. Ich werde diesen Bootsausflug nicht ĂŒberleben.“

Kalt. Windig. Wackelig. Dramatisch.

Zum GlĂŒck kam Adam zur Rettung - nicht nur mit seiner ruhigen Art und seinem wunderschönen LĂ€cheln, sondern auch mit Tabletten gegen Übelkeit. Ich habe gleich zwei genommen.

Überlebensmodus: aktiviert.

Die zweistĂŒndige Fahrt hinaus ins Rote Meer fĂŒhlte sich anfangs endlos an. Wellen, Wind und mein Leben, das gefĂŒhlt an mir vorbeizog. Meine arme Mama ging es auch nicht gut—sie kĂ€mpfte schon seit Tagen mit einer starken ErkĂ€ltung.

Doch langsam verÀnderte sich etwas.

Die Sonne wurde wĂ€rmer, das Meer ruhiger und die Aussicht… atemberaubend. Was als reiner Überlebenskampf begann, wurde plötzlich fast schon friedlich.

Ich bin nicht schnorcheln gegangen - das Wasser war meiner Haut etwas zu „ambitioniert“ - aber schon das Beobachten vom Boot aus war magisch. Es war unser erstes Mal im Roten Meer, unser erster Schnorchel-Ausflug… und dann passierte es:

Delfine.

Echte Delfine. Nicht im Fernsehen. Nicht in einer Doku. Sondern direkt vor uns, nur wenige Meter entfernt.

Es war einer dieser seltenen, stillen Momente, in denen einfach alles zusammenpasst.

Reine Magie.

Und obwohl ich trocken blieb, konnte ich mir nur vorstellen, wie emotional es sein muss, direkt neben ihnen zu schwimmen. Dieser Moment ist bei mir geblieben -und hat spÀter seinen Weg in meinen Song Red Sea Dolphins gefunden.

Aber genauso beeindruckt wie die Delfine haben mich die Menschen.

Die ProfessionalitĂ€t der Crew - und ehrlich gesagt von allen, die wir in Ägypten getroffen haben - war unglaublich. Vom Hotelpersonal ĂŒber Fahrer und Guides bis hin zu dieser Bootscrew… alles war so gut organisiert, so durchdacht, so bewusst gemacht. Man hat einfach gespĂŒrt, dass es ihnen wirklich wichtig ist.

Und hier ist die Wahrheit: Sie arbeiten unglaublich hart. Viel hĂ€rter als die meisten Menschen in Europa - und oft fĂŒr nur einen Bruchteil des Gehalts.

Sie machen das nicht fĂŒr das Geld.

Sie machen es, weil sie stolz darauf sind, Menschen ein unvergessliches Erlebnis zu schenken.

Das ist Gastfreundschaft. Die echte.

Die Crew von Delfinausflug.de war großartig - besonders fĂŒr deutschsprachige GĂ€ste aus Deutschland, Österreich und der Schweiz. Selbst AnfĂ€nger im Schnorcheln fĂŒhlten sich sicher und gut betreut.

Jeder hatte seine Aufgabe: einer machte Fotos, ein anderer filmte unter Wasser, jemand kĂŒmmerte sich um das kleine Transferboot, der KapitĂ€n steuerte uns durch die Wellen - und dann war da noch der Koch.

Ganz ehrlich: Einer Person dabei zuzusehen, wie sie in einer winzigen KĂŒche FrĂŒhstĂŒck und Mittagessen fĂŒr fast 25 GĂ€ste zubereitet?

Das war schon fast eine eigene Show.

Es gab den ganzen Tag Tee, Kaffee und GetrĂ€nke, und irgendwie haben sie es mitten auf dem Meer geschafft, dass sich alles… gemĂŒtlich anfĂŒhlt. Fast wie zu Hause.

Wenn du jemals in Hurghada bist und davon trĂ€umst, Delfine zu sehen, kann ich Mo’s Team von Delfinausflug.de wirklich empfehlen.

Du bist von Anfang bis Ende in guten HĂ€nden.

Und wer weiß…

Vielleicht inspiriert dich deine Reise ja auch zu etwas Unvergesslichem.

FĂŒr mich wurde daraus nicht nur eine Erinnerung - sondern Musik.

Dieser Ausflug wurde spĂ€ter zur Inspiration fĂŒr gleich zwei Songs auf meinem Album. Und ganz ehrlich: Ich finde, Where Is My Ring? ist der perfekte Soundtrack fĂŒr einen Heiratsantrag im Roten Meer.

Stell dir vor: Delfine in der NĂ€he, die Sonne geht unter, die Wellen bewegen sich sanft… und dann drĂŒckt dein Partner auf Play.

Ja. Ich sage ganz klar: Mach es. 😄

Wenn du also eine Reise planst - warum nicht unvergesslich machen?

Buche das Abenteuer. Bring den Ring mit. Und vergiss den Song nicht.

Und falls du dich fragst, ob meine Lyrics erfunden sind oder von echten Erlebnissen und GesprĂ€chen inspiriert wurden…

Dann sage ich dir: Jedes einzelne Wort in diesem Song ist wahr.

Und ja - ich warte immer noch auf meinen Ring von Adam. 😄


Fun Fact & Song Lyrics:

Erst nach der Songproduktion habe ich recherchiert und herausgefunden, dass ein Delfin tatsĂ€chlich zwischen 50.000 und 100.000 Euro kosten kann – natĂŒrlich nicht fĂŒr Privatpersonen, sondern fĂŒr Marineparks.

Im Vergleich dazu kostet ein Kamel (das traditionell in einigen arabischen LĂ€ndern als Teil einer Mitgift galt) nur etwa 500 bis 5.000 Dollar – je nach Alter und Rasse.

Das bedeutet: Ein Delfin ist etwa 10- bis 50-mal wertvoller als ein Kamel. Also… auch wenn kein Ring gefunden wird (wobei ich selbstverstĂ€ndlich darauf bestehen wĂŒrde): 12 Delfine sind vielleicht noch ein akzeptables Angebot. 😄