Took the high-speed ferry to Tangier, Morocco this morning.
Got to ride a camel, have a snake around my neck!
Visited the Necropolis, the Bazaar, and the Casba!
Had lunch at a traditional Moroccan Restaurant, chicken with couscous.
Danced as the musicians played traditional Moroccan music, the musicians loved it, they clapped and smiled.
There was an old man sitting on a stoop in the bazaar next to the bakery. All the tourists were gathered around the tour guide, ignoring the old man. He was neatly dressed, his gray hair clean, trimmed, and combed. His shoes were old, but well cared for. His skin was dark, but his eyes were blue. He seemed at peace, sitting among all the oblivious tourists, watching the activity surrounding him. I saw him smile to himself over some private joke, and then our eyes met. He put his right hand over his heart and slightly bowed his head to me. I put my hands together and bowed back. We shared a smile and a peaceful moment amidst the chaos of the bazaar. It felt good to connect with this old man, even for an instant.
Most of the tour consisted of walking quickly from one "trusted merchant" to another. There were the rug weavers, then the spice dealers, then the pottery makers. and finally the fruit vendors. We walked through tight alleyways and broad avenues. There were vendors with their wares spread out on blankets before them, some vendor were walking around wearing bracelets and necklaces on their arms, others had framework attached to their backs with trinkets and carvings hanging on them. Then there were the shops with beautiful garments displayed on the walls, or rugs, or hand-made slippers. I was afraid to lose track of my guide and become lost, so I didn't stop to look at the offerings. I wasn't really looking to purchase anything anyway, but it would have been nice to be able to look more closely at the goods.
Long bus ride back.
Tired!
Finally found PEANUT BUTTER at the supermarket!!
Long day, hitting the sack soon.
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