I am grateful for that flutter of a butterfly’s wing that set off the random chain of events that brought me here. It started with seeing a repost of Jo’s bohemian interior decor on someone else’s Instagram feed feed, following her for a year on social media, then deciding to take a leap of faith to go to Morocco with her.
Today marked a change in my feeling about the souk. Places started to look familiar, I recognized faces and shops, and was able to find my way around. I knew to go left out of the riad, down the dark and scary alley, left at the trash heap, pass the musician, my favorite leather place is on the right, turn left at the rug dealer that ripped me off, right through the vegetable market, and there is the basket market.
Once again I woke up to the call to prayers, but at least I slept soundly most of the night. As I get older, I have come to realize that a good night’s sleep isn’t something I can take for granted. I was the first person to come downstairs as the sky slowly lightened, my […]
I woke up this morning to the sound of the call to prayer at 5am. It was a layered sound, starting beautifully and culminating in a dirge. There are mosques everywhere, each with their own signature sound. I slipped out of bed and padded up the stairs to the roof in my bare feet. Agony. […]
The drive to our riad was the perfect introduction to the city, it was both similar to and completely unlike places I’ve been. I recognized the shift between the old city center and the sprawling surround, the tension between the modern and the ancient.