Sometimes Morocco Feels Like A Dream

The taste of the hot tea that I didn't like at the time, but now, for some reason, crave. The olive smell in the air that I miss every time I use my Moroccan olive oil. The hustle of the souk that I loved... and then hated. The detail. The bread. The mountains. The blue sea and sky of Essa. The smushed cabs. The cold hotels. The toilets (oh, the toilets).

It didn't feel real then, and it still doesn't now.

To read all about my Moroccan adventure, click here.

1 comment:

clairepstuckel said...

I miss the misimins ( and the fact that we never actually learned how to spell the word....)

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