Tag / journal

Not much to report from our return home. Long flights…but completely uneventful. Bad airplane food…but some hearty fare during our layover at IAD. A bit late into SFO…but a cheerful smile from Yusuke when he picked us up. A perfectly low-key day to wrap up a trip full of adventure.


Time to sleep, reflect…and start planning the next trip!!

There is something oddly freeing about beginning your day with no luggage. Certainly no fretting over which outfit will fit the weather…will the clouds burn off…will it warm as expected? Nope. Doesn’t matter.


It will be another feeling altogether if my bag doesn’t show up by evening.


Began the day with coffee and croissants from a nearby Starbucks. Then off to the Prado. What a beautiful morning to be outside. Everything feels so lush. Breathe deeply and take it in.


The Prado. One of the nice things about a return trip to a large, iconic museum is that you can take a step back and focus on the things you really like. For us, we are continuously fascinated by the Prado’s collection of El Greco, Velázquez, and Goya. But we also enjoyed an (appropriately) small exhibit on miniatures. Classic European museums are wonderful for sparking artistic creativity.


El Retiro. We’ve visited this grand park twice before. Once on the cusp of summer, when fountains are dry and people only walk at dusk when the 100+ temperatures subside. And once in winter, when (again) the fountains are dry and people only walk during the brief midday sun. So autumn in the Retiro is a true delight. The fall colors are starting to pop. The grass is green and fragrant. And once-quiet gardens are filled with the splash of fountains.


On the good news/bad news front, my luggage was found…but it will not be delivered to Madrid until after we leave in the morning. I’m sure I will see my clothes eventually 🙂


We had dinner tonight at Lateral on the Plaza Santa Ana. Really wonderful tapas…one more night of tapas before we head home. Wonderful meatballs; chicken brochettes; a dreamy tortilla; and a surprising quesadilla that rocked.


Walked through familiar streets from past trips. A couple of beers at Liquid. Madrid feels very comfortable. Like a conversation with an old friend. A great way to end our trip.

We arose with the rooster to catch our morning flight. The air was still as the sky slowly proceeded from black to a delicate shade of blue. A second rooster joined in from a bit further away. No motorbikes at this hour. Coffee and orange juice and we were off.


A cleancut kid with a faded red cart wheeled our luggage to an awaiting taxi. Shops were closed. A couple of cats scampered by.


A short traffic-free ride to the airport. The morning sun lit up the Mosque and its coral-pink minaret as we passed. We spotted fresh snow in the High Atlas off in the distance.


Many lines and check-points to navigate, but everything went smoothly. Checked in with Royal Air Moroc for our first hop to Casablanca. Exchanged our remaining dirham for Euros. (Morocco has a closed currency and visitors are not permitted to take dirham out of the country. The exchange to and from dirham is tightly controlled and tracked by passport. Very strange system to an outsider.) Pre-security, security, and passport control…like sheep being herded from one pen to the next. And a line for the toilet of course 🙂 Our flight somehow was listed to depart from gates 1, 2, AND 9. Although there is no 9, and 1 was closed. Odd. Either way, we simply boarded a bus to take us out on the tarmac. On time, we took our quick hop to Casablanca. We literally hopped as we landed.


Changed in Casablanca (another security check) to Iberia 3703 bound for Madrid. Christmas tunes played on the speakers overhead as we lifted off from this Islamic nation…an odd juxtaposition to be sure. (Not to mention that it is October. Even Starbucks doesn’t cart out their Christmas decor for a bit.) Snacked on sandwiches and Pringles…and a refreshing pair of Mahou cervezas.


A smooth landing in an overcast, drizzly Madrid. Easy passage through the airport.


Ah, but like a scorned lover, Morocco refuses to be forgotten. My luggage did not arrive…lost to Morocco…at least for the time being.


On to Madrid via a smooth taxi. Rain on the windshield. Madrid looked calm and clean on this lazy Sunday afternoon. Checked into the Westin Palace, celebrating its 100 years as a grand old hotel. They took immediate sympathy on me and sent an “emergency” toiletries kit to the room. And a couple of umbrellas.


We took a leisurely stroll past the Prado museum and had a snack. Then stopped in the Caxia Forum Madrid and viewed two free exhibits. First a show from London’s Tate Modern celebrating the work of William Blake. And then a fascinating exhibit on towers, from the Tower of Babel to the current worlds highest in Dubai…Burj Khalifa. Saw a model of the Sagrada Familia…ah, fond memories of Barcelona.


Rain stopped…stroll continued. A rainbow appeared over the Neptune Fountain. Saw this as a sign, so we stopped for cervezas and some patatas bravas. Wonderful and comforting. Life is grand.


After a hot shower to remove the Moroccan dust, we walked to dinner in a nearby plaza. It was so nice to feel the crisp air on our faces, and rain had left behind sweet smelling air. Dined at the creative DisTinto restaurant. Creative yummy tapas. A twist on croquettas with curry chicken. A wonderful tortilla with ham and cheese. And two types of sliders, both yummy. Really a nice simple meal.


Oh heavenly bed, take me away.

The rain again timed itself perfectly for sleeping. We slept soundly and awoke (again) to clear skies. Another beautiful day in Morocco. And of course another hearty breakfast at the riad.


There aren’t many “sights” in Marrakech like you might find in other destination cities…this is more of a walking/experience kind of city. And it has experience and atmosphere and over the top energy in spades. But today, we anchored our walking with five of the “must-see” sights for any visitor.


Began with the Bahia Palace, with a long tree-filled entry garden followed by the palace itself. Bus-loads of tour groups being led around…mostly French with the occasional Brit. The tour of the palace runs through a series of large inner courtyards with rooms off of each one. No furniture, carpets, or decorations…no signs of life…which leaves you to admire the tile work, the wood and plaster carvings, and the jewels of this building: the ceilings. Truly magnificent wooden ceilings…painted with intricate and delicate detail.


Walking off the beaten path, a rambunctious child leapt up and grabbed Jeff’s arm. Just for a moment. More mischievous than criminal in intent, but disconcerting nonetheless. No sooner had Jeff brushed him off, than a woman swung her purse at the child with a harsh “NO!”. Justice is swift in this it-takes-a-village society.


Next up, an eary royal palace…now basically towering stone walls and an expansive interior consisting of walkways and former sunken floors. We were confronted upon entering by an aggressive man asking to be our guide. When we told him politely but firmly “no” he brusquely told us “Don’t follow me!” to which Jeff replied “What is your problem?”. A terrace along one of the walls provided panoramic views of this edge of the medina. Crane-like birds with huge nests perched on the palace walls.


Nearby, the recently re-discovered Saalidin tombs. Ornately carved interior spaces with marble grave-tops. Grave makers ran lengthwise with the bodies.


Now we made a cross-medina trek, through the main square and through the souks to the Photography museum. Small and difficult to find, but with a pleasant interior space. Black and white photos of Morocco from the early days of photography. Scenes of souks and gateways. Beautiful portraits capturing Moroccan diversity. Beautiful sunny terrace with views of the heart of the medina.


Got wildly confused afterwards. The “helpers” in the medina can sense confusion and nervousness and they pounce: “That way is closed.” “The square is this way.” It’s just a game of confuse-the-tourist, and its hard not to get angry. You cannot stop and look at a map. But we persevered and found our way back to the riad.


Then back out to visit one last site…the Jardin Majorelle. Off in the New City, about 15 min walking from the hotel. This is the grounds of the former Marrakech home of Yves Saint Laurent. Small gardens with odd pairing of plants: spiny succulents next to towering bamboo next to delicate flowering vines. House and flower pots were painted in primary shades of neon blue and yellow and orange.


Back to the riad for a well-deserved beer on the terrace. Two short but relaxing massages. And then a wonderful dinner of beef tangina (a local dish to Marrakech) and couscous. Yum!


Time to pack quickly. Up early tomorrow to fly to Madrid.

The rain ended overnight, leaving behind beautiful fluffy cloud and cool, crisp autumn air. We arose early for a quick breakfast…energy for a long day ahead.


Today’s adventure is a day trip to the town of Essaouira on the Atlantic coast.


We were delighted to be able to re-hire Youssef from Ligne d’Aventure as our guide for the day. He met us, fresh from a day at home and full of smiles.


The road to Essaouira seemed straight as an arrow. Fields of oranges, olives, grapes. We passed a large livestock market…laden trucks dispatched to the far corners of the country.


Flocks of sheep grazing…fattening them before the huge festival in several days. Youssef told us in reverent detail about why and how sheep will be sacrificed by every family later this month. Two million sheep will be sacrificed across the country. Sort of like turkeys at our Thanksgiving, but with a deeply religious meaning.


We started to climb and the land turned arid again. We passed among ridges of eroded rock. Rolling rocky fields stretched to the horizon. A quick pitstop at Cafe Atlas for a drink and toilette.


Entered a region known worldwide for its Argan trees, from which highly sought after oils are extracted. Spas around the world have discovered this uniquely Moroccan tree for producing lotions and oils. Apparently, the nuts of this tree are also desired by goats, which will climb the trees and perch precariously on branches to eat. We stopped at a women’s cooperative promoted by the current King to learn how the nuts are hand cracked to remove two hulls and extract a sliver of a nut. Then nut is then ground into the consistency of almond butter which is left to dry in large clumps that oil is squeezed out. We tasted products to eat and tested oils and lotions for the body.


As we descended the last hill before Essaouira, we paused at a dramatic vista over the city and the Atlantic Ocean. It was at this point that Youssef’s cousin arrived in his Land Cruiser and our friends Lynn and Greg hopped out. It was a wonderful reunion, carefully choreographed by our skillful hosts.


Together, we were introduced to a bubbly local guide–Sayid–as we stood outside one of the four gates to the city of Essaouira. He was a wonderful guide…full of stories. And he truly loved his city. He also spoke passionately about the United States, and the long friendship between our countries. Surprisingly, he had been watching the US presidential debates! He also loved showing Jeff every precise spot from which to get “the best pictures”. He was terrific.


Essaouira is a beautiful seaside city. Once an important port for the country, and still bustling with fishing boats. Tourism seems to have enlivened the city, not crushed it. We felt welcome but witness to real people living their lives as well.


For a few hours, Sayid led us to every corner of the city and its four gates. Each with a different characteristics neighborhood and each with a colorful story. The air smelled fresh from the rain the day before, with a hint of brine and fish from the port. Nearly every building was painted white with blue doors and shutters, the town’s signature color.


Visited two craft cooperatives…one for metal jewelry and the other for woodcraft. No pressure to buy, just proud local artisans explaining what they do. The local shops were less frenetic than anywhere we had been. And much more art focused. Visited two striking examples of restored riads. Winding streets connected by alleys where we ducked our heads. Cobblestone streets mixed with occasional dirt streets…and the occasional mudpuddle.


Lunch at a lovely restaurant with a view of the ocean. We spent the time talking with Lynn and Greg about our travels and adventures. For a change of pace, we ordered simple pasta dishes…pesto and bolognese.


Climbed to the city’s ocean side fortifications. Massive stone walls. Cannons. And the best views of the rocky coast. Huge waves crashed dramatically against the shore. The sky was misty and fragrant with sea spray.


Final stop was the port itself. Fishing boats. Seagulls. Nets. Very vibrant in the late afternoon sun.


We were re-joined by Youssef and said our goodbyes with Lynn and Greg. Heartfelt promises to remain in touch and continue to share stories. Truly wonderful to have made new friends.


We set off for the two hour drive back to Marrakech. We stopped along the road as the sun dipped below the horizon and lit up the dramatic clouds all around us. The remainder of the drive was in swift darkness, broken only by little towns along the way…each bustling with locals.


Youssef dropped us at our riad around 8:30pm. We exchanged email addresses and again parted with a new friend. We would certainly recommend him to any visitor to this colorful country.


Dinner was another simple delight. A mixed salad of vegetables and cheeses. Skewers of seasoned meat. Chicken wrapped around cheese. And chicken cutlets. Crepes filled with chocolate.


The rain returned for the evening. Another beautiful night to sleep.