Morocco

My first Morocco encounter was not a planned one. As my plane got delayed on the way to France, where I was going to start my trip on the Camino, the connection through Casa Blanca was a failed attempt. Tired and a bit frustrated, I landed in a small hotel by the beach in the famous Casa Blanca, all expenses payed by Royal Air Maroc. The French I studied in school did not come back easy and English did not take me too far in the small hotel. I had time to venture out on the beach and walk far on the boardwalk, and it seemed like the whole town was taking the day off and came out to relax on blankets on the grass, or on sand by the water, watching kids and teens play soccer. I did not get to see much else there but when I made it to Marrakesh, a few years later, it was love at first site.

The hostel I chose was right in the middle of the main market, on one of the narrow streets. It was a great (and lucky) choice, and so easy to find. I instantly loved the local, colorful and friendly place. The building was a few stories high with painted wooden doors , window frames, bed boards and closets, and had wonderful old lamps and tiles. Later, for dinner, the smell and taste of tajine, cooked by the manager for all the guests (who wanted to joined in to assist in the cooking) so all could eat together, was a heaven sent gift.

Marrakesh really was a delight for my senses with the abundance of colors, smells, tastes, and sounds.The central market was possibly the most exotic market I ever seen. It gave me the feeling that I had plunged back in time, into an old setting of an adventure book I might have read long ago and forgot about. I felt like I might not ever get enough of the color and smell of leather, carpets and spices, the sound of music made by small groups dressed in different national costumes, and the visions of snakes and monkeys providing entertainment. I regret not going there a few days early so I could have had more time before my next assignment and possibly take a few day trips to the desert with the Bedouins. Bummer. Maybe I will go back someday again. Hope so!

 

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  • Morocco

    My first Morocco encounter was not a planned one. As my plane got delayed on the way to France, where I was going to start my trip on the Camino, the connection through Casa Blanca was a failed attempt. Tired and a bit frustrated, I landed in a small hotel by the beach in the famous Casa Blanca, all...
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