MOROCCAN ENCOUNTER
Wandering through the maze of the old town, playfully chased by merchants eager to sell, El Fenn’s hidden backdoor feels like an opening to a secret oasis. The welcoming pause of intenseness is enjoyed on their enchanting rooftop terrace. Nourished, rested and with new-found courage it’s time to go back in, and explore wherever curiosity leads us.
Long games of chess, only interrupted by small sips of suggary-sweet Moroccan tea, are played at Kasbah Tamadot, the vibe couldn’t be more different from the busyness of Marrakech. Staring through the floor-to-ceiling windows, visualizing my next move, the snowy tops of the Atlas Mountain stare right back at me. A subtle invite to continue our journey.
Somewhere between the valley of palms and the city made of sand, Aït Ben Haddou, we picked him up. His toothless smile transcended all language barriers, and a lizzard pulled from his traditional dress-like attire, completed the fun. Only a few dusty miles further our ways part, and he and his tiny companion disappeared into the crowds of the small village’s marketplace. Couldn’t help but wonder if our encounter had as much of an effect on him as it had on me.
Last part by camel, when at the outset of the Sahara desert our bedouin-camp arises. A passing Berber with only a handful of sheep, peacefully coexisting with their surroundings, accentuate the tranquil setting. Tired from the trip it’s time to recharge, and sleep comes easy. Eyes closed, but heart wide open.
PHOTO AND TEXT BY AFRA RE
