Morocco Part Eight and on my way home
Without an alarm I always worry about being able to wake up in time. With open drapes, the sun woke me a little after five. My room was actually a suite and quite lovely. I wish I could stay longer and enjoy it. I tried sitting on the balcony but the slats on the metal chair kept turning making for a rather energetic seating. I am not accustomed to French bathrooms—a bidet and the toilet in a separate room. Other parts of the world have not discovered the arched shower rods but the water was quite hot.
Breakfast was the typical assortment of croissants, coffee, tea, and brown eggs.
Everyone was gathered in the lobby with their luggage a little past seven; we loaded into the van, and said good-bye to those who had later flights, and headed off to the airport. A bit of confusion occurred at the airport as we off-loaded our luggage . Signage is limited and there are so many people, it was challenging to find the right place to check in. Clearing security took just moments even though there were dozens of people.
Unlike most American airports, people spent their time waiting in the café portion of the departure area—not the actual gate. Of course, the gate number wasn’t announced until five minutes before we started boarding. I had six hundred dirhams left—and I decided I needed to spend most of them even though most of the goods there were double or quadruple market price. I found a lovely silver thimble, some nice silver bracelets, and a map of Morocco—which would have been great to have had in hand for the week.
The flight was uneventful; our tutor always celebrated the end of a teaching session with two packets of Pringles and 2 glasses of wine—I opted for a box of chips and a packet of Walker’s shortbread cookies.
Our luggage was delayed in off-loading and many of our group had connecting flights. Immigration and customs were incredibly quick—a huge contrast to US. I made my way to the hotel and settled in.
Tomorrow I’ll be home.
Note: It seems to always take me quite a bit of time to edit my photos. It was hard to choose the best of the many that I had taken. I’ve uploaded them along with a few movies to smugmug.
If those links don’t work go to Smugmug.com; then to ysr612; then to Family; then to Sylvia’s pictures; and there you’ll be in Morocco.