Last days in Morocco

Sven got up early to take photos of the sunrise while we slept in and then enjoyed a lovely leisurely breakfast on the roof terrace, occasionally enjoying the bleet of a sheep from a neighboring terrace (waiting for their starring role in the big mutton festival tomorrow morning!). After this, we headed out to do a little shopping, visiting so many wood working shops that eventually there was a girl rebellion and we headed off to lunch. After lunch, Sven took the girls to the beach with Saad while I got a mediocre massage in an attempt to beat the bug that had plagued me for the past few days. In the evening we decided to walk to the harbor to watch the sunset (and the cats) and then on to dinner (one of the best of the trip) where we practically licked the couscous and tagine out of the dishes and the girls ran around the square hooting and hollering to loud techno music.

Afterwards we weren’t quite ready to be done with Morocco so we headed to the souk, which was like nothing we’d ever seen. The closest thing I’ve ever seen to it was Christmas Eve evening at Walmart, times 100. Everywhere we looked people ran/ fast walked to the souk, carrying large knives and shopping bags. The din at the souk was deafening. Knife sharpeners worked quickly, sparks flying as they sharpened the knives of those who were preparing to sacrifice a sheep the next morning (namely, everyone). Kids sold firestarter, women sold herbs, and everywhere it just seemed to be non-stop excitement and holiday frenzy. The energy was palpable and we felt like we were in the way of the party with our gawking so we eventually headed towards home (after stopping at a pastry shop).

Wednesday morning we left Essouiara right after breakfast in order to make our 1:00 Easy Jet flight back to Madrid. The 3 hour drive was quite uneventful, as most were at home preparing for the feast. In the last hour, though, things started getting going. We saw hundreds outside a mosque, all kneeled and praying. Outside of Marrakesh we saw fires starting and sheep heads roasting, and even a man with blood-stained pants cheerfully running across the road carrying a large knife, presumably to help butcher a neighbor’s sheep.

Cooking of the sheep heads...

Man covered in sheep blood carrying a large knife- running off to help butcher more sheep.

Essouira

Knife sharpeners at work at the souk!

"I love couscous!"

buying a painting

The wood carvers deep in conversation

walled ramparts

The view from our rooftop terrace- of the sheep staring mournfully at us next door.

Sunrise at the harbor.

Crepes!

Leaving Morocco

In our week in Morocco we had driven across its southern width and seen a lot… Everywhere we did go, though, we felt honesty, safety, kindness, always amidst the ruckus of a fast-moving society. It was definitely with sadness that we left back to Spain (which by contrast seemed extremely gentile and quite boring to be honest). But we got our lovely Peugot (leased) with a massive sun roof and drove an hour to Avila, Spain on our way to Portugal, a country that none of us have ever visited. Our plan for the next couple of weeks is to somehow slowly make our way back to Paris, where we have a rental for the first two weeks of December.