Morocco and then Menton, France 2018 | Getting to Marrakech

It's our last night here in Marrakech; with much sadness we leave for Casa tomorrow morning. Two weeks ago, when I landed there, I was so excited to be there, ready to begin a new adventure in a foreign place. Casa is a big city and the traffic would intimidate the most seasoned traveller. We needed lessons in crossing the street! But today I feel very comfortable here, despite the many languages going on around me (Berber, Moroccan Arabic, French, a bit of English), and the whirlwind that is Morocco's most famously crazy city!

But first, getting here. Before we left Essaouira, we walked the boardwalk, sampled a local treat from a street vendor (warm seasoned garbanzo beans) and took in the sunset. After another dinner of fresh fish (mine a tagine) and some music I packed in preparation for the following day's trip to Marrakech.

It's not far by the toll road but we made a couple of special stops. The first was to check out the progress on Fattah's guest house. He'll be renting it out in 18 months or so and I've already chosen my room. It will be a very up-scale and quiet retreat in the foothills of the High Atlas Mountains; the perfect place for a retreat.

Then we went on to visit his parents who have relocated from the town back to the village where Fattah grew up. We were graciously hosted by his mother and father, and with the help of extended family and women of the village, treated to a home cooked meal. I can't begin to describe all the dishes. There was bread, made from a mix of barley and semolina, which I'm told was excellent. There were countless salad plates, some cooked, some not. I have a great photo of the couscous (this is totally the wrong word for it but I don't quite know how to write the proper word) served in a wide-brimmed ceramic dish. On top, she put slow cooked tender lamb (the meat is cooked in the bottom of the couscous cooker--sort of like a big steamer with liquid) all surrounded by slices of squash, pumpkin, potatoes and zucchini.

And there was roasted chicken! I wasn't able to eat the couscous, because although it was traditional (milled by hand) barley couscous, I can't eat barley. She prepared a special plate for me without and it was all so flavourful, tender and juicy. We all checked out the kitchen (such a big meal prepared in such a small kitchen), got familiar with the farm animals (alas, yes, this is where the chicken came from), and the wood fired stone oven in which she baked the bread. I should point out that Fattah's parents have chosen to return to this home and this lifestyle in their retirement. We were all so grateful for their hospitality, generosity and affection. It was a very special lunch indeed.

Couscous, vegetables, and lamb

The oven where the bread is baked

After tea it was off to Marrakech.