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The relationship with mother has always been a very intimate one. After my father's death, however, there was another facet that gave me some headaches. Mother wanted to travel. And Borkum was the dazzling destination of her choice. And there I was: An old mummy’s boy, in the tow of his steam-chatting Mama, in the company of several other Golden Agers. Facing all the rites and customs I started taking snapshots and uploading them to Facebook during the obligatory midday rest. My travel notes as well as the other postings from living together with my mother do not follow any concept, are intuitively made, and are nothing more than small everyday observations.