A final word on Morocco, and then I’m overdue to tell you about Jordan, plus an aside on camping in a bombed-out Iraqi bunker last weekend. There’s not enough time!
I feel in Morocco I saw tourist attractions and took my pictures, but really I peeked a glimpse of daily life. Buying onions, playing with the kitten, visiting the one English bookshop, passing the same doorstep every afternoon that’s what persuaded me that I could live in Rabat. It’s a shame you don’t take pictures in your everyday life because it’s what you really remember of a place, but you don’t forget it, either. These are the last pictures of Morocco and they don’t nearly capture it, but I earnestly hope there will be more someday soon.
Sunset from the top of the Kasbah:
A Muslim graveyard; the graves are so small because all Muslims are buried facing Mecca, which in Morocco means they’re on their side:
The souq, the medina, and the river:
My welcome gift to Morocco- traditional house slippers. They are the most comfortable footwear on the planet, and everyone wears them, not just tourists. I love mine; they are as agressively cheerful as I am:
The sweethearts of Morocco: