Carpet burns...

About five years ago, we went on a two-week tour of France starting from Dieppe, where we visited a cousin of mine. She settled there in the early sixties after she'd met and married a French soldier who was serving in Algeria. At the time it was a very delicate case of sleeping with the enemy. I was too young to understand the repercussions.
She and her husband welcome us with open arms and we spent a couple of days with them before heading South.

My carefully planned itinerary included Bayeux as it happened to be on the way to Saint Malo, our next stop.
After a leisurely late lunch we decided to visit the world-famous Tapestry.

We made our way to a large darkened room wearing earphones to learn about Harold, William and the battle of Hastings. The commentary was in 14 languages so I picked the French version to see if the facts had been embellished.

The tapestry hung in a huge glass cabinet that stretched 70 m along a slow moving walkway allowing visitors time to admire the 58 panels.

TIME!
I looked at my watch and realised that time was not on our side.
Ahead of us lay a two-hour drive to Saint Malo. We needed to arrive in good time to get a decent hotel room. I hadn't bothered booking any in advance in case we changed our route.

Have you ever seen desperate people running for a train, a bus or a plane?
You've got the idea!

We started taking longer steps, just catching sight of a colourful blur as we flew past the ancient Tapestry and many puzzled tourists.

If anybody asks whether I've seen the Tapestry, I just nod vaguely.

Now from the comfort of my armchair, thanks to the marvel of Youtube and technological advances, I am able to enjoy what I missed a few years ago. Check it out.




One of PI's posts jogged my memory...

What's your carrot?

Marrakesh streets are used by buses, cars, motorbikes, mopeds, bikes, horse-and-carts, donkey-and-carts.
A mish-mash of vehicles that often renders driving a hellish nightmare.

The last time I was there I hired a car and drove a little around downtown MK but mainly on the open road towards the Atlas Mountains. I managed to drive around without scratching the hire car.
The truth is that there is seldom real risk of a serious accident as the traffic unfolds mostly at crawling pace.

Often, at peak times, that is between 8am and 11pm, many a two-lane street is transformed into a four-lane car park where one can dance the salsa to the sounds of the blaring horns, neighing donkeys and bleeting sheep...

Just another facet of colourful MK.

I doctored the above photo using Corel Painter and added a stick and a carrot. This is to jump to the next topic.
What is your carrot? What drives you?

Personally, the minute I find myself sitting still, either my body or my mind longs to be busy.
Busy contemplating the next enterprise, busy travelling in body or mind.
I just hate plateaux.
I don't mind mountains to climb, as in a new challenge.
I enjoy the odd slide, as in a thick slice of recreation, be it travel, partying or gourmet dining.

But plateaux, no thanks...
So, as far as I am concerned, movement, life and vitality... That's what drives me...

So, what's your carrot?

.

Daydreaming of little things...

Last night I dreamt of leaving the cold wind
And grey skies behind me.

For a minute I thought about getting into my kayak and sailing into the sunset.
But images of amnesia and Panama crossed my mind.
A sad guy in a police station just down the road from me must be desperately wishing he had stayed at home.
Stayed at home, looking out at the North Sea and doodling...

Just as did last night when I dreamed of warmer climes...

I started with the usual curls. Just a few little things.

The pen came to life and I suddenly began floating away.

Guess where I landed?




...

Foodie Marrakech...

You'll never go hungry in Marrakech...

Honest!
You can eat for £1 or £100 and that within a couple of square miles.

Breakfast at Le Grand Café de La Poste. I had one of the best plain omelettes ever there one morning. Earl Grey and fresh juice squeezed on the spot.



















Squid cooked three ways and Thai sticky rice at Café 16.











Followed by the most flavoursome macaroons I have ever tasted.
The lilac one was flavoured with violets and lavender.
Other flavours included Mint, Lemon, Coffee, Rose, etc... washed down with freshly squeezed pink grapefruit juice....
No wonder Maryam likes desserts at Café 16!














A glass of refreshing mint tea at the Menara Café after a long walk...

























A drive up the Atlas Mountains and Ourika Valley where tiny shacks serve delicious tagines and salads by the side of a gentle stream.

















In the evening you have a choice between the Jemaa el Fna Square in the Médina where revellers gather around the numerous food stalls and dine on wooden benches and tables...









































...Or make your way along the Médina's quiet alleyways...

























...to slum it at one of the most amazing places in Marrakech, Ziwana where Kate Moss launched her Dior fragrance last December...

A cross between Dali, Picasso and Gaudi...











































Give me strength to get over this cold winter without losing my mind...


...

Green and Colourful Marrakesh...

For a city that often melts in the Saharan heat, Marrakech is a green oasis of serenity and beauty.
The Majorelle Garden boasts some of the most complete collections of cacti and exotic plants.

Throughout the city, buildings are surrounded with palms, orange and lemon trees.

Water flows abundantly from the Atlas Mountains after the Winter snows have melted.

More Marrakech...

What can I say about magical Marrakech that I didn't say back in July?
The temperature was a little cooler... 29 to 33 degrees Centigrade!!!

We left home at midnight to drive to Luton Airport and were in Marrakech at 9.15am.
After dropping our cases at my cousin's we walked in glorious sunshine to Jemaa El Fna, the most famous square in Morocco.

We then made our way to the Ryad (Moroccan house turned into a hotel) which my cousin J. will be managing once the alterations are finished by the end of December.
His boss, a London fashion photographer is very impressed with J's contribution. After all he speaks all three languages needed to get things done in Morocco, Arabic, French and English. His haggling ways have saved thousands of Dirhams.

We then had a light lunch at a restaurant called Kechmara, which is Marrakech spelt an odd way. (Photo)

After a short siesta we headed for Le Comptoir, a spellbinding restaurant-cum-night club.
In an outdoor seating area, with scattered leather cushions and low tables and chairs we sipped on delicious Mojitos while perusing a French-Moroccan menu.
The food was very good and so were the Moroccan wines.
As we ate, the lights were dimmed and the music changed from Buddha Bar to gently thumping. A group of suited gentlemen seated one either side of a sumptuous staircase played a mix of old Andalusian-Moorish favourites as we climbed to the first floor where a thousand candles lit up a most beautiful lounge.

In danced a woman balancing a huge tray of candles on her head, followed by a few more belly dancers. Young, beautiful and slim they wriggled their lower bodies frenetically at times then very sensually. The audience was enthralled and spellbound.

More next time...