My first couple days here have been luxuriantly lazy. I sit on my perch soaking in the sun and the sound of the waves. I watch life unfold on the mediterrenean accented with white limestone buildings with angled chimneys, terra cotta shingles and a cafe colored beach. Cats, dogs, and birds make up the bulk of my neighbors so far. Gradually the other human tennants of this complex are moving in. Mostly I feel indulgent in my selecusion on my optionally glassed in oasis. Truly I could live here and have often wished for the power to stop time.
We've had a couple adventures. Not the least of which was me getting a bit of a jolt one morning from one of the outlets. Whoops. Another day we drove towards Malaga exploring the coast line and getting turned around more than we had hoped but that's when you find the true treasures of travel.
Yesterday was my much anticipated trip into Morocco. We took a ferry from south of Gilbratar into Tangier. Morocco was both more and less than I hoped it would be. Unique and yet familiar.
Mom and Dad were very on task and efficient when it came to finding our bus etc. It's reduces the stress when you are traveling with others who have the same neurosis you do. Having said that, we were uncharacteristicly seperated from our group in the old city where mom sealed the deal on two fabulous carpets with her seemingly bold move of walking away. Truth was, she was done. Her way or the highway and to her they bowed. I am excited to say that I am now a proud owner of a fireproof, individual work of art (that you can walk on) for a 1/4 of the original price.
I loved Morocco. The old city was my favorite with it's narrow streets, colorful produce and people. I would have loved to have spent more time there exploring. But one thing that stood out to me like a sore thumb, was the absence of the random backpacker or two exploring at their own pace. I'm not a fan of tours in general, but I do wonder if if it is the only option here.
I shared my seat on the bus with my boyfriend for the day, Liam Neeson...I mean Leo. A Russian from Austria who is working in London and traveling with his daughter and grandson. When Leo smiled (which was often) he lit up just like his nine year old grandson. We saw the cave of Hercules where the opening onto the spraying Atlantic was a naturally formed map of Africa. We drove around the outskirts of the rapidly growing city. We were treated to a traditonal moroccan meal meant to be eaten with your hands. Although they provided utinsels some of us wore our saffron stained fingers with pride.