Morocco Has My Heart
Life looked very different for me in 2018. I was single and cohabiting with my kindred spirit working cocker spaniel in our sweet end terraced house in the Cheshire village I still call home today. My friends were busy raising their young families and not in the season of life where they could throw caution to the wind and hop on a plane to explore new places.
Whilst part of me yearned to have the opportunity to build a family of my own, I was determined to make the most of my freedom and get out into the world. I’d never visited the African continent, so without too much thought I booked myself on a group tour of Morocco. Little did I know how much I would fall in love with this incredible country.
The tour began in Casablanca. From there we spent just over two weeks exploring different cities, driving through the Atlas mountains, venturing into the desert and following the Atlantic coastline back to Marrakech.
On the last day we had a long journey back to Marrakech where we’d have a final dinner together before we all headed home to our various corners of the world. My mind was buzzing with all the amazing sights and sounds I’d seen during our time in Morocco. Knowing the way of memory, I knew this feeling I had would fade and I wanted to capture my thoughts to keep them safe. I started writing and a couple of hours later I had a sort of poem. Now I’m no poet (!) but I dug this one out and I’m so pleased I had that time to write this all down, because my mind has indeed overwritten many of those memories to make space for new ones. Without these words and pictures, so much of the detail of this trip and how it made me feel would have been lost.
There’s no better way to tell the story of my brief encounter with Morocco than to punctuate these photographs with that text. So if you’ll indulge me with some amateur poetry, here we go…
Twelve strangers met two weeks ago
who would travel together ‘cross sand and snow.
We had all arrived from far and wide,
to meet a young Abdellah who would be our guide.
Our adventure began in Casablanca,
a city well-known by the lawyer and the banker.
On to Meknès and all was going to plan,
when the obsession with truffles began.
To this day (despite all the kerfuffle),
we have yet to sample this illusive truffle!
Roman ruins set in pastures green,
were a pleasantly surprising scene.
In Fez we were led through the narrow maze,
where scores of tourists explore and gaze
at tanners, merchants and butchers galore,
then Said told us of a local folklore,
- where unmarried women can make a small donation,
in hope of finding their salvation!
At a service station near the N11,
we all found ourselves in tagine heaven.
Then Marrakech beckoned and the sun finally shone,
a mint tea welcome and we were gone, -
to Jemaa el Fna where the snake-charmers dwell,
and performers and artists are keen to sell, -
their crafted trinkets, silver and rugs,
or a photograph with a monkey too keen on hugs!
Crossing the High Atlas with Lassan at the wheel,
we awaited the view that would seal the deal,
but winter descended and snow obscured,
the “mesmerising” landscape to which we’d been lured.
With the white stuff behind us we reached Ait Ben Haddou,
where the ladies amongst us said “I do” -
to the carpet seller before we ascended,
up the blustery kasbah once strongly defended.
From Zagora, like so many tours,
we trekked into the desert in our 4x4s.
At Erg Chigaga the camels awaited,
to give us a taste of a life highly-rated,
by our nomad hosts who whipped up a feast,
under a sky of stars that never ceased.
The road to Taroudannt boasted tree-climbing goats,
upon which the roaming shepherd dotes.
The stunning landscapes whizzed on by,
as the bus kept moving along roads low and high.
From Tafraoute we hiked through a palm filled valley,
and from there to a Berber home we did rally.
Tea was served and for once we enjoyed
a delicious meal from which bread was devoid!
A brief lunch stop in sunny Agadir,
where the gentlemen-folk enjoyed a rare beer.
Then on to Essaouira for some R&R,
and a spot of shopping in the bazaar.
A harbour visit and overdose of sardine,
led us to hammam so we might feel clean.
By now we strangers were (very!) well-acquainted,
and our evenings together were richly painted,
with laughter and dancing seamlessly paired,
with recollections of happy memories shared.
And now it’s time to bid farewell
and return to the homes we know so well.
We couldn’t have asked for a more generous host,
in this beautiful country in which we can all now boast,
we have a friend - who come what may,
we wish every happiness along his way.
We were so lucky in our guide, Abdellah. He was exceedingly knowledgeable about Morocco’s history and geography and despite having limited travel experience himself, he was curious to learn as much as he could about the wider world. Conversation was always free-flowing and easy. He had a bright light behind the eyes, a zest for life which was infectious and he guided us with great pride in his country.
I remember shedding a tear on the flight home as I digested the whole experience. For that short time I had felt completely detached from my own life and had instead been immersed in this incredible new culture. Morocco had made a profound impression on me. In this country rich in beautifully diverse landscapes, I had met a people who were evidently exceedingly happy living a life far simpler than mine. I was truly inspired. Have you ever felt that way coming home from another part of the world?
So after all that, I don’t think you’ll be surprised and it goes without saying that I would hands down recommend a trip to Morocco to everyone and anyone! If you haven’t visited Morocco and the opportunity comes up then grab it with two hands and get ready for a cultural awakening. Also, if you need a guide then be sure to send me a message… I know a good one!
