Spent some of the morning trying to cram in some last minute Arabic... Aargh (or أرغ). Getting ready to head off to the airport and feeling a little anxious, which is not at all like me pre-holiday. The overpowering feeling that I've forgotten something is unsettling — especially knowing I'll probably only discover what "something" is in the middle of either the Atlas mountains or the bloody Sahara! Packing was an interesting exercise. Having to approve or disapprove clothing based on a set of values I don't share was an eye-opener. The girls were further incensed that certain items were deemed acceptable for Henri but not for them. Having spent a lifetime choosing neck and sleevelines that flatter, it was little frustrating to be packing the dowdiest, most matronly clothing I own. I can suddenly understand just how versatile a scarf can be if the sudden need to mask an errant shoulder or collarbone should arise. Packing for the variety of climates we're liable to find brings another level of challenge. Hiking boots & packs alongside modest hot weather gear. What does one wear to ride a camel? The mores of Marrakech are not the mores of Berber villages. I suppose we'll inevitably goof at some point. Wish us luck!
I'm hoping to find the time to write a little about our time in Morocco, a country that appears to offer a little of everything — beaches on two seas, desert, mountains, ancient cultures. If you're interested in reading, stay tuned.
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2 comments:
I don't care what you wear as long as you're happy and safe. Desert, mountains, seacoast ... just stick together and tellus all about it.
Mom
Love your blog ... sounds like a wonderful place to visit. But DO
come home!
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