We are in Marrakech. I am not saying it is better than Hastings, but it is certainly very different. We are not in the teeming centre, but in La Palmeraie in a hotel 'enclosure' so fancy that I am not able to see straight. The French-Canadian veterinary research histopathologist with whom I share my life (and fleas) is currently sleeping on a gigantic bed strewn with rose petals. I am sitting under a sort of canopy thing and there is grass and lawns and ornamental ponds and lanterns and blue blue blue sky etc.
Breakfast yesterday is not worthy of note. We woke early to drive from Hastings to Gatwick, stopping at a service station off the A21 to eat a Marks & Spencer (known by my brother when he was small as "Marks and Spensive") egg and bacon sandwich and drink strange coffee. The flight on Royal Air Maroc was uneventful; the drive involved camels and a 3-legged donkey (outside the car). Now we are here. Here is our bed:
And here is the view out of our bedroom window:
Today I will probably be lying around reading the best writer in the world (aka Jilly Cooper). Tomorrow, unbelievably, my task (according to my brother) is "to go into Marrakech with the old housekeeper and buy 50 fezzes". No word of a fucking lie.
Pip Fez Pip
NWM
2 comments:
So - have I missed Skye then? Marrakech looks wonderful - you'll not get a pool like that in Skye, or, indeed Hastings.
Sounds like a brilliant adventure.
Ali x
No you have not missed Skye. Skye is next week. Going from Marrakech to Inverness obviously makes a huge amount of sense.
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