Much to do…Retirement isn’t a free lunch….Photos from dinner in the souk…

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A complimentary bowl of spicy olives is served when dining at Arabe restaurant.
There’s never a day that passes that doesn’t require tasks related to our travels. In reality, it’s comparable to a full time job. Fortunately, we don’t mind doing most of the tasks. Although, it’s easy to lie in bed early in the morning thinking about everything that must be handled, we try not to make ourselves crazy or worried with the responsibility of accomplishing them.
The overlook to the shops below from Terrasse des Espices Restaurant.

Let’s face it. There’s no free lunch. We all have many tasks in our daily lives continuing well into retirement, if not until the end of our lives should we be so fortunate to be able to continue to do our own tasks. 

For most of our readers, daily household tasks and maintenance preoccupy a good portion of each day. Add the responsibility of handling medical insurance, medications, health appointments, paying bills, grocery, and other shopping, visiting family and friends who are ill or in nursing homes, and entertaining family and friends, it is exhausting.

Complimentary bread sticks are provided at Arabe restaurant.  The price of cocktails is high in Morocco, as much as US $10 per cocktail. As a result, Tom doesn’t bother to drink any alcohol. With us dining out three or four times per week, him not drinking could easily be saving us over US $100 per week.

Although we have eliminated some of the above items from our “to do” list, since we no longer have a home, we have other tasks to perform that replace them, mostly wrapped around our continuing travels.

In other words, being retired is not being “retired’ from anything other than going to an outside job each day. The perception that many younger still working people may have is that life is free and easy. Ha! It’s hardly the case.

A pigeon we spotted while dining on the rooftop.  Their cooing sounds permeate the air in the riad each day, along with the crowing rooster who crows every 5 or 10 minutes.

Although at times I consider myself in the retired category, I am far from retired. I work half or more of each day with our website, writing, editing, taking photos, and generally being continually aware of the creation of the inspiration for the next story. That’s hardly retired. The fact that I enjoy doing so is incidental.

Add the financial management, record keeping and the daily task of handling of the budget, logging each penny spent, my days are full, leaving a little time for playing Gin with Tom, watching a few shows and of course, getting out to explore.

This is the usual crowd we must maneuver each time we go out to dine, get cash from an ATM, roam around the Big Square, or to exit the Medina in order flag get a taxi. 

This morning I spent an hour placing our few pills into our pill cases. Tom’s case holds two weeks of pills. Mine holds four weeks. The end result is that I have to do pills every two weeks. Now, this should be an easy task. I take a few prescriptions and Tom takes one. Adding the few vitamins and probiotics we have left and it seems that it shouldn’t take so long.

But, as time has moved on, we’ve used all of our US prescriptions and are now into the one year’s supply of the those we’ve purchased from ProgressiveRX, a reputable online pharmacy company. (They don’t take insurance).  Each pill they dispense is individually wrapped in foil requiring a huge amount of time to get each pill out of the right wrapping.

As we dined at Le Jardin, Mr. Turtle stopped by, hanging out for “crumb patrol.” Of course, we complied with his request for vegetable tidbits from our plates as he stared up at us, which he savored with delight, quickly snapping them up. He rested between bites at my feet.

Today, I unwrapped over 100 pills for the six weeks total of pills I placed collectively in the little cases. As I’ve aged, good grief, I’ve noticed my fingers are not as adept as they may have been 40 years ago. Small handiwork is not my forte. 

Also, several years ago I had surgery on my right thumb and it’s basically useless. Try unwrapping those tight little tin foil packs when right-handed and the right thumb doesn’t work. What a time consuming ordeal.

Mr. Turtle and his companion, another male, scour the floor of the restaurant all day, as customers come and go. The staff feeds them their usual diet of fresh greens but they particularly seem to like the cooked vegetables from our plates.

After performing this task this morning, I thought, “Why don’t I unwrap them all and put them in the plastic bottles I saved from the old pills?”  Simple reason. As we are stopped by airport or cruise security, we’ll fare better with them in the labeled foil packs than in the white plastic bottles I saved that I plan to toss before we leave Morocco.

This morning, I performed the pill task earlier than usual after being awakened at 5:00 am by the crowing rooster next door. He’s obviously going nuts now that its spring, continuing to crow throughout the day, until dark. 

Fresh produce is offered for sale at Le Jardin including these pretty oranges.

Looming in our minds has been the car and flight we still need to book for leaving here in 27 days which invariably proves to be a lengthy process when making every effort to get a good deal. We postponed booking these two items as we considered the possibility of leaving a few days earlier. Now, that we’ve re-framed our thinking, we’re content to stay until our departure date of the 15th of May.

In addition, we still have four more family members to book for Hawaii as we continue to watch rates on a daily basis. We plan to have their bookings completed by the first week of May.

Notice the two buds growing behind the flower.  Photo taken from a tree in Le Jardin a restaurant we’ve found that stays open at all hours.

Yesterday, we created a detailed spreadsheet listing all the places we’d like to visit in the next year including prices and details of possible cruises and the flights to travel to those locations, the cost of rent, rental cars, and other expenses. As a result, we created a budget for the next year. It feels great to have accomplished this task.

When realizing that the cost of our “wish list” was more than we’re comfortable spending, we knew that the next step in the process was to whittle it down to an acceptable level. That it itself is a time-consuming process.  However, that business-related part of me still enjoys creating and updating spreadsheets. Good thing. It’s definitely not within Tom’s skill set or desire to learn.

A hand-carved head on display at Le Jardin.

Assigning tasks to each of us helps to avoid redundancy. At the moment, Tom is researching future travels while I document his research. This works well for us. I’m researching the remaining flights for our family, while Tom keeps checking our booked cruises for rate changes. (If prices drop, we get the benefit of the lowered price, if done so prior to 90 days before sailing).

As a result of the division of tasks, neither of us, ever feels there is an imbalance in responsibility, very important in keeping peace when together around the clock. Resentment over the balance of responsibility is often a source of disharmony in relationships which has never been an issue for us.

As I shot this photo of this parakeet in a cage at Le Jardin, she shook her tail feathers.

Without a doubt, I spend more time “working” each day as I write and post photos. But, the fact that it is a pleasant task, doesn’t make it feel as if it’s work.

As much as life for retirees may seem like a walk in the park, most of yours and our days are filled with tasks and responsibilities, none of which we can easily ignore or postpone.

This guy refused to awaken from his nap while I took these photos.

Maybe next time our hard-working, still working, family members or friends comment about the “easy” lives of retirement, they can ask us how we spend our days. Then, perhaps, they may realize it is not as simple or easy as it appears. Sadly, they eventually find out how difficult it is when we get so old that we can no longer perform our own tasks, and they have to take over.

It’s for all of the reasons we must grab at every moment we can, finding joy, pleasure and meaning in our lives.  And, it’s for this very reason, that we find ourselves in Morocco in spring of 2014, living life to the fullest, the best way that we can.
                                              ______________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, April 18, 2013:

Photo Tom took from our balcony at sunrise, as our ship made it’s way to Sam Juan, Puerto Rico where it spent the day. For details of this date, please click here.

Tom’s haircut…A razor…A ritual…A rip off, so says Tom…Our own fault…

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Tom, before his haircut.

On Tuesday late afternoon, we headed out with two missions in mind; one to find a barbershop for Tom to get a haircut and two; find a restaurant where we could have a suitable meal. Madame Zahra was still ill making dining at the riad, not an option.

As we nudged our way through the crowds in the souk, we worked our way to a less busy area where we’d previously seen a string of tiny barbershops. 

Tom, getting his haircut in the barbershop in the souk.

Each shop had one guy sitting on a stool outside trying to lure takers inside while the actual barber hung onto the doorway, hoping to see a passersby show interest in purchasing their wares, neatly stacked on an outdoor table. Neither of them hesitate to bark at prospective customers. 

In their minds, everyone is a possible customer, whether walking by quickly to avoid drawing attention to themselves, or those taking a leisurely stroll eyes flying from shop to shop, perpetually seeking the next great “deal.” Then there is everyone in between, like us, looking for something but trying desperately to appear not to be.

The barbershop was clean and seem to have all the necessary equipment, although no products were for sale.

The first barbershop we encountered, appearing clean and well kept, we entered as Tom immediately asked the price. “100 dirhams!” shouted the barber as we entered the small space.

Tom looked at me for a reaction. This was his deal. I was staying out of it. US $12.31 for a haircut? Is that so bad? Tom didn’t flinch, based on similar prices he’d paid in other countries. Tom said, “Yes, but are photos OK?” as he pointed to my camera. The barber agreed.

Tom accepted the offered cup of sweet tea, an apparent tradition in barbershops in Morocco.

I wondered why he didn’t bother to negotiate. But, knowing that if Tom was agreeable to a price, he wouldn’t try to negotiate.

Mohamed, the barber, spoke little English. The friendly little guy outside the door spoke some English. And the process began.

Clumps of Tom’s hair fell to the floor.

The first thing I noticed was that there was no sink in the shop, similar to what Tom experienced as a kid. At that point, I also realized that none of the equipment would be sanitary. I remember the haircut Tom had in Belize a year ago while he sat outdoors on a plastic chair under a tree, raised up to the proper height with cement blocks. I kept my mouth shut. 

As soon as Tom was seated in the barber chair, Mohamed carefully draped him, ensuring no hair would fall into the neck of his shirt or on his clothing. I sat mesmerized at his care in the draping. With boys of my own and attending haircuts with Tom since our travels began, I’d yet to see such attention to detail.

I was mesmerized by the speed of the haircut and forgot to take a photo during the process. By the time the shave began, I was back at it.

After Tom was draped, Mohamed moved to the back of the narrow room, pulling out what appeared to be sanitary wipes as he wiped his own face, neck, arms and hands. I wondered if he’d wiped off the equipment after the last customer but, again, I kept my mouth shut. Mohamed motioned to me to be seated in the few chairs that lined the wall.

Tom sat patiently as Mohamed busied himself with his back to us. We looked at each other wondering what was next. Moments later, he turned around, handing us each a small glass of tea. In Morocco, tea is typically consumed in small glasses, not cups. 

Tom seemed to enjoy the shave.  In any case, it was worth it.

As he handed a glass of tea to me, I asked in French to the best of my limited ability, “Est ce que le thé sucré?” asking if there was sugar in the tea. When he responded “Oui,” I responded, “Non merci,” gracefully declining his offer. I can’t have sugar. He seemed to understand by the apologetic look on my face. 

Tom, who never drinks hot tea graciously accepted the glass, taking a few sips, desperately trying to avoid a look of disdain on his face. I chuckled to myself.

Mohamed was also quick while shaving handling the straight razor with expertise.

So far, we’d been in the barbershop for ten minutes without a single hair from Tom’s head falling to the floor.  However, respectful of customs everywhere we travel and the fact that we weren’t in a hurry, we patiently waited as he performed his customary rituals, making no comments to one another.

Finally, Mohamed pulled out an electric hair clipper, plugging it in, approaching Tom and began buzzing away. I wondered if Tom was going to end up with a buzz cut but again kept my mouth shut. 

Haircut done. Almost done with the shave as Tom relaxed.

I’d never seen anyone so fast and so adept with an hair clipper. I wondered if scissors would ever come into play. A short time later, he grabbed a pair of scissors out of a wooden box and here, again, snipping with an expertise I’d never seen in any stylist or barber.

When done with the expertly done haircut which was not a buzz cut, much to my pleasure, he asked Tom if he wanted a shave to which Tom shook his head to a yes, never asking the price. Honestly, not familiar with the cost of a shave, we figured it would either be reflected in our generous tip or a reasonable add on to the 100 dirhams, perhaps in the 50 dirham range. How long could it take to shave him?

None the less, it was a good haircut. 

Tom later informed me he’d never had a shave in a barbershop, much to my surprise. After the meticulous shave and clean up, Mohamed unwrapped Tom, asking him if he was happy in broken English. Tom and I both nodded yes enthusiastically.

“What!” Tom said, thinking he meant 30 dirham additional for the shave which would have been a total bill of 130 dirhams, US $16.00, plus a tip for a total of US $20, a fair price based on local prices of products and services.

A short time later, we entered the restaurant for dinner.

Mohamed insisted on the 300 dirhams, showing us the amount on his cell phone at which point the little guy outside sitting on the stool came inside. We felt the total of US $36.89 was way too much. The look on Tom’s face was more one of disappointment than anger. What had been a pleasant experience turned into a manipulative rip off. How could the 8 minute shave cost twice as much as the 25 minute haircut?

Then, Tom’s ire kicked in and he said, “200 dirhams! No more.” Mohamed looked at me, then Tom and then accepted the 200 dirham as we walked out in somewhat of a huff.

The views from the restaurant rooftop.

It was our own fault. One of us should have chimed in when he suggested the shave, negotiating it at the time thus avoiding the feeling of being taken advantage of. Plain and simple.

All in all, the haircut and shave, well done for sure, came to US $24.63, not bad by US standards although high based on Moroccan pricing. With all of our travels, you’d think we’d have figured this out by now! 

More views from restaurant rooftop.

Good grief!  It’s not a lot of money in the realm of things but it was the principle more than anything. Tom was frustrated with himself less over the money and more over the fact that he failed to negotiate.

Later in the restaurant, his mood was one I’d seen before, one of self recrimination. “Let is go,” I assured him.  “It’s no big deal. You got a great haircut and a shave, well deserved with how little you ever spend on yourself.”
“Besides,” I continued, “now we’re even.”

Palm trees are occasionally seen in the Medina.

“Even for what?” he asked.

“I paid too much for the belt I purchased a few weeks ago when you grumbled that I didn’t negotiate.”

“Yep.,” he said, “We are even, aren’t we?”

We grabbed our menus contemplating what we’d order for dinner, smiles on our faces.

By the way, this morning we asked Adil how much is should have been for a haircut and shave. He told us the total should have been 70 dirhams, US $8.62. Oh.
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Photo from one year ago today, April 17, 2013:

We were waiting to clear immigration in order to get off the ship in St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands where I was meeting up with an old friend, a former Minnesotan, who’d lived there for many years. Once cleared, Tom walked with me to our meeting point leaving me to visit with my friend. A few hours later, he met up with me for the long walk back to the ship. For details of this story, please click here.

Is having household support, adding to our lounging time?…No excues needed…

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Without a major amount of vegetation in the Medina, other than in the small park near the main entrance and that which shops and restaurants has on their premises, it’s pleasurable to see flowers blooming.

Yesterday, Adil explained in French (he speaks little English) that Madame Zahra is ill and wouldn’t be able to come to the house or to make dinner. He seemed concerned that this was a problem for us which of course, it wasn’t, as we reassured him. Our only concern was for Madame returning to good health. 

Having full-time household help would not be on my list of “must have’s” if we won the lottery. In South Africa, at Khaya Umdani, Zef arrived at 7:30 every morning to do the last night’s dinner dishes, make the bed and clean the house. 

There’s a kindly shop owner working in this area that often stops and visits with us.

Of course, we appreciated his hard work as we do the staff at Dar Aicha, equally diligent and hardworking who are here from 9:00 am until 7:00 pm on the days that Madame Zahra cooks our dinner. On the days we dine out, they leave in the afternoon after tending to the house and the laundry.

For us, the lack of privacy would prevent us from desiring full-time help. In the future, should we settle for longer periods outside the US, most likely, we’d only want a biweekly house cleaner for a few hours each visit.

Overlooking the souk from the restaurant.

Without the responsibility of household tasks we can easily spend too much time lounging, something I have little interest in, never have. Tom, on the other hand, doesn’t mind sitting all day, tending to his online “hobbies” such as Ancestry.com, our investments, listening to his favorite radio show, Garage Logic from Minnesota, researching future travels, and communicating with family and friends via Facebook.

Luckily, the first half of my days are spent researching, writing, and managing photos. During the remainder of our time indoors, I manage our finances and budget, research future travels, spending a little time on Facebook communicating with family and friends, and responding to email. 

Another pretty rose in the restaurant’s rooftop garden.

Although, we’re out almost every day walking the Medina and the souk, often discovering new photo ops, there are only so many hours one can spend walking. Dining out no less than four times a week, the walk to the restaurants is often over an hour round trip, depending upon the density of the crowds. The walk to our preferred ATM is almost an hour round trip. 

At the Terrasses des Espices Restaurant, we were served this black olive Tapenade which I’m able to eat along with a basket of bread for Tom. Notice the ashtray on the table. Smoking is allowed in restaurants.

On occasion, we venture outside the Medina to the busy road, a location better spent inside a vehicle than on foot with the fast-moving traffic darting in and out at a frenzied pace which is not particularly safe area for walking. When needing to grab a petit taxi to a restaurant, it’s necessary to walk outside the walls of the Medina to the nearby taxi stand where it’s fairly easy to find a driver willing to negotiate for a reasonable fee.

It took time for me to become comfortable with staying indoors in Morocco a few days a week. Shouldn’t we be out taking advantage of our location? But, in reality, we’re not on a vacation/holiday. We’re living our lives.  Anyway, who goes sightseeing every day while living their day to day lives? 

Tom’s usual dinner. Fries and meat. By the time we leave Morocco, he may have had his fill of fries.

Today, with Madame Zahra still under the weather, we’ll head out when we get hungry preferring not to pick a time earlier in the day. Only a few restaurants are open during the day resulting in few options. Most often, the French and Italian restaurants we’ve found don’t open for dinner until 7:30 pm. Considering at least 40 minutes from opening time before the food arrives, dining is too late for our liking. 

We’ve found in all of our travels that most tourists from European countries tend to dine late, stay up late, and starting their day late. Usually in bed by midnight, we both are early risers, preferring to dine by 6:30 or 7:00 pm.

My dinner was delicious. The yellow stick has seasoned chicken resulting in yellow color. The white vegetable is fennel, not potatoes, a commonly served vegetable in Morocco.

Sure, we could adapt our ways to the traveling masses. However, we prefer to maintain some of the familiar routines which invariably add to our sense of feeling grounded. Stuck in our ways? Perhaps, to some degree.  But, then part of the magic of being “free” of certain responsibilities, allows us to decide how we prefer to spend our time.

Isn’t that what retirement is supposed to be like anyway? Yep.

                                                ______________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, April 16, 2013:

We dined in one of the specialty restaurants on the Carnival Liberty which much to our surprise was one of the best meals we’ve had since embarking on our travels. This plate of meat was presented to us from which we selected our entrées. For detail of this amazing meal and our outing when our ship docked in St. Thomas, US Virgin Island where I had an opportunity to see an old friend, please click here.

Fun date night in the souk…An attitude adjustment hatched…

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This gorgeous rose was growing in one of the many flower beds in the restaurant where we dined last evening.

The souk and the Big Square of the Medina of Marrakech change at night. The energy level ramps up, the shopping crowds are less frenzied though crowded and the mood goes from “let’s rush” to “let’s have fun!”

Dining on the rooftop, we spotted this familiar Minaret Tower.

As we walked by a shop, a vendor yelled to Tom, “Hey, Grande Mustache! What you buy for the madam?” Tom returned, “She has it all!”

I giggled, as we women often do when our loved ones make assumptions that we already have everything we could possibly want.

When we asked for a dinner menu, the server brought this huge chalkboard for our review.

Yesterday afternoon, an attitude adjustment was born out of our magical way as a team, of making a conscious decision to “reframe our thinking” (words used by motivational speaker Tony Robbins from years passed) by returning to our usual cheerful and enthusiastic selves.

We’d been in a bit of a funk for this past month, mostly precipitated by one of us more than the other, looking for all that wasn’t right, as opposed to what was right, invariably sucking the other into the mood. As hard as the more positive one tried to stay upbeat, the at times more somber partner quietly refused to partake in rampant bouts of cheerfulness.

Plants, trees, bushes, and flowers were on display on the restaurant’s rooftop.

Without prodding, criticizing or any form of recrimination, the more cheerful one had an idea: Let’s start planning  our travels from May 15, 2015 into the future for the somber one’s first choice of the next stop along the way. And then, magic happened! We had a light bulb moment.

We have no home, no stuff and no idea where we’ll be in 13 months when on May 15, 2015 our last booked rental ends. Imagine that such a thought could be disconcerting. 

These tables were rather low suitable more for children than adults.  We sat in a corner managing to get comfortable.

Add the fact that present circumstances don’t necessarily keep us entertained and busy without the day to day responsibilities of managing a household to some extent; planning and shopping for meals, cooking and creating a familiar routine and ambiance, had left us both with too much idle time on our hands. As a result, idle time…la la la…idle mind (or whatever they say).

With the utmost excitement, we both began researching online with a greatly improved WiFi signal, thinking, discussing, and planning. An animated conversation ensued along with a renewed sense of “why we’re doing what we’re doing.” 

The views from the restaurant’s third-floor rooftop.

Over our next 30 days in Marrakech, we’ll enthusiastically continue our search, already with a decent plan in mind as we strive to make it affordable, exciting, and befitting our dreams of continuing on in our travels

Although much of the Medina is well maintained, the age of many of the buildings result in many distressed buildings.

Instead of dining during the day, as we often do, last night we walked the short distance from our door to the souk with a spring in our step, determination in our hearts on a mission to find a new restaurant serving mostly French or Italian cuisine and have a lovely evening.

The restaurant’s name was displayed in white stone in the backyard.

After a 20 minute walk through the souk, we discovered exactly what we were looking for, a three-story restaurant we’d noticed on prior walks, one which we’d never tried. We weren’t disappointed by the décor, the food, the service or the prices at Terrasse des Espices or, of course by the conversation. OK, their credit card machine battery was dead. No big deal. We paid in cash.

Here again, more old and worn buildings mostly unoccupied.

As I enthusiastically type fast and furiously while voraciously pounding on this uncooperative keyboard, once done here today, the search will continue. Over the next few weeks, we’ll book the remaining five flights for our family members for Hawaii, book a car and flight for Madeira, while we continue to research our options for future.

More rooftop views.

And, of course, once we start booking for the future, we share the details with our readers.

This Arabic symbol Hamsa, protection from the evil eye.

Once again, we’re our old (yes, old) cheerful selves filled with determination and enthusiasm for today, tomorrow, and times yet to come. 

“Hey, Grande Mustache,” I mutter with a huge grin on my face, “Thanks for sharing a great day, delightful date night and yes, you’re right..she does have it all!
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Photo from one year ago on April 15, 2013:

Tom coming down the slide of the ship’s pool. For details for the post from that date, please click here.

Internet issues continue…Unedited post was uploaded…Yikes!…Final mountain photos…Great photo from one year ago!

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Corner shops we passed on the mountain road.

Late last night, when the Internet appeared to have improved I reread yesterday’s post finding numerous errors I thought I’d already corrected. Usually, when writing a new post, I write directly into blogger.com, reviewing each line and making any corrections before uploading it. After I’ve reviewed it making corrections, Tom also checks it for errors. At times, we both miss errors that neither of us nor spell-check spotted.

The handmade wares offered by the locals are a common sight along the highway.

Due to the poor signal yesterday, none of my corrections were saved resulting in my uploading the unedited version. All-day, I was unable to get back into the site to verify its status to ensure the corrections took. Imagine my frustrations when I discovered that all of my errors were uploaded which may have created some difficulty for our readers. 

A more elaborate housing style pops up in the landscape. It appears there’s a river beyond these homes.

Hopefully, whatever precipitated the vastly slowed Internet connection appears to have improved to some extent last night, enabling me to go back into the site and make the corrections as originally intended. I apologize for this annoying inconvenience.

Once again, the blue sky appeared as a backdrop to the colorful hills.

Frustrating. If during the next 31 days, you don’t see a post on any given day, most likely it is due to the fact that we cannot get online. A few times on Sunday, I was able to get into Facebook, but not on into many of my other most frequently viewed sites. 

Wrought with motion sickness, I took all of these photos through the closed window in the vehicle.  It was too much effort to open the power window.

Of course, email requires less bandwidth and is readily available with the weakest of signals. Feel free to email me with questions or comments if you don’t see a post.

The landscape is lined with power lines.

With future plans in the works, we’ve had difficulty getting into the specific sites at certain times in order to look up cruises, flights, and vacation rentals. Booking the flights for our family for Hawaii in December has also been a challenge with this same issue as well.

The scenery was desolate at times.

Today, we’ll be booking our flights and rental car for Madeira. How dependent we’ve become on the Internet!  Without it, we’d have had little interest in traveling the world. How did travelers manage in the past? Or, a hundred years ago? I can’t imagine.

The red color of the earth is seen throughout Morocco is due to the high iron content.

As an avid reader, I’ve often had to try for days to upload a book I’ve ordered for the Kindle app on my phone.  Also, with only two English speaking news channels on the TV, we are dependent on the Internet to provide our entertainment during quieter times. 

Uploading shows from Graboid may take an hour to upload a single one-hour TV show requiring that we upload them during the night when the Internet traffic is low.

Another housing development.

Unquestionably, the thick walls of the Medina and in the riad have a bearing on the ability to get a clear signal.  I have no doubt that outside the Medina there’s a tremendous improvement.

Breathtaking scenery.

However, as we’ve written in the past, we’ve had issues with the strength of the signal all over the world, some countries more than others. The strongest signals we’ve had have been using XCOM Global’s MiFi rental. 

More breathtaking scenery.

Unfortunately, there are two limitations in using XCOM Global that are limiting for us; the allowance of only 250 megabytes per day, not nearly enough for our combined usage which is upwards of one gigabyte (1000 Mb) per day and, the cost at US $395 a month which is high considering the limited usage.

With the rainy spring season, the grass was green and crisp against the iron-rich soils.

We each have our own hotspots that we can’t use in some countries, including Morocco. By purchasing SIM cards that we install into the hotspots, we were able to get a good signal for example in Kenya. However, when we first arrived in Morocco, we visited several cell stores none of which carried the necessary SIM cards. With a router and service provided in the riad utilizing local Internet service, our only option has been to use it.

When we looked across this railing, it was hard to imagine that we were on that section of the road only a few minutes earlier.

Many homes we’ve rented have routers that are included in the rent. When inquiring about a prospective rental, our first question is about the availability and quality of the signal. So far, everyone has been straight with us, explaining the occasional outages and periods of poor signals that occur during the high traffic periods.

I’d wish I hadn’t had motion sickness which prevented me from fully embracing the beauty of the scenery. However, I’m grateful to have taken the photos I did since we’re enjoying seeing them now.

Luckily, this morning I was easily able to get into our site, hopefully catching my errors before uploading today’s post to the Internet. There’s no doubt that on occasion, we’ll have posting issues along with errors that we fail to catch. Although it’s somewhat embarrassing to leave errors in our wake, I accept that its a reality of posting every day.

Moving quickly while I shot this photo of what I believe to be sheep.

Writing every day is comparable to writing a school essay each and every day, hoping to get a passing grade.  Add the cumbersome task of adding photos and it can take time. It’s a case of errors waiting to happen, both mine and those predicted by the strength of the Internet. 

Another case of the road we’d traveled minutes ago.

I try not to stress about any of it. The sheer pleasure of documenting our lives during this exciting time and sharing it with readers all over the world is motivating and never feels as if its a task. Except perhaps, yesterday and other days when the signal is too poor to post or make corrections.

It amazed us how well these roads were made through these steep mountains with elevations up to over 14,000 feet, 4267 meters. At one point we were at 10,000 feet, 3048 meters suffering no ill effect from the altitude. 

Thanks for reading. Thanks for returning to read. Our lives are all the more meaningful with our readers traveling along with us.
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Photo from one year ago today, April 14, 2013:

Still on a back-to-back cruise on the Carnival Liberty as it left Miami, we giggled as we spotted the Norwegian Epic ahead of us, the ship we’d be boarding in Barcelona, Spain one week later. The story from that date describes how we managed to move to another cabin after not sleeping for several nights due to the loud noise from the disco one floor below us making our bed shake until 3:00 am. For details of that story, please click here.

Not always ideal…May I whine a little more? New photos…

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Another Kasbah as we drove through the High Atlas Mountains.

It’s Sunday morning. The WiFi signal is so poor that I had to write today’s post on a Word document, later requiring me to retype every word since the poor signal wouldn’t allow me to upload it directly to Blogger.com.  I tried more than 10 times, each time receiving a message that the signal is too weak.

In this little village, many stops contain various products with the scent of roses.

Also, I don’t like this computer, an HP, that I purchased in South Africa under duress when I dropped and broke my wonderful Acer. I miss it if one can miss a computer. The keyboard uses punctuation from other languages requiring extra typing to correct it.

What that a riad at the top of this hill?

Besides, the letter “i” is still not working properly nor do most of the other keys requiring me to press the keys extra hard. Need I say that this is more than annoying?

More villages off the road to the High Atlas Mountains.

May I whine more, please?

I miss drinking coffee. The only means of making coffee is using the hand-operated French press Tom has mastered. However, the coffee here is just too strong for my liking, even when he uses less. I’ve switched to Lipton tea bags which I don’t like when Earl Gray or plain black tea is unavailable in the grocery stores. I don’t care for flavored teas.

Every area had a nearby mosque as shown in the lower right in this photo. Most homes have electricity and the Internet which we hadn’t expected.

I miss our coleslaw. It was a staple we included at all of our home-cooked dinners. Surely, Madame Zahra would make it for us, except for the fact that I can no longer chance eating raw vegetables in Morocco. I’ve given up all raw vegetables including salads. I miss salads. I don’t want to get sick again.

The winding road.

This riad is wonderful, as is the staff. We have no complaints, only praise for it and for them. The souk, although crowded most days, is full of life and energy. But going through there almost every day becomes redundant, especially when guarding oneself against the fast-moving motorbikes, swerving in and out.

The views of the villages situated at the base of the mountains created beautiful scenery.

The shoving and the pushing of the often frenzied tourists in the souk, desperate for the next big bargain, has worn thin. No wonder the locals appear annoyed and aloof. They too must have become tired of the crowds.

At some points, the mountain rocks were less colorful than others.

We understand why the vendors bark out to us to come and see their wares. We have to force ourselves not to look, not to smile, to avoid eliciting a response. I’d love to offer a friendly “bonjour” (good day) but doing so always seems to indicate that we may have an interest in making a purchase.

The sky changed frequently during the seven-hour return drive.

Oh, that we could be among the local people in a less sales orientated environment reveling in their companionship and conversation. They are lovely people from whom we could learn much. We see this from the four-person staff of Dar Aicha, genuine warmth and kindness, far beyond their duties.

The roads and signage were more modern than we’d expected.

It’s not that I miss the US. Of course, we miss family and friends. The pace, the place, the traffic, the cost of living, not so much.

Much of the greenery was from olive trees with olives as an accompaniment to many meals.

I won’t get into the fact that I miss nature and wildlife. Everyone who reads here is aware of that fact. I cling to the birds flying into the riad through the open courtyard, my Mother Nature companions, always available for a nature fix to some extent.

Does anyone know what this means?  Please post a comment, if you do.

Now, we count the days until we leave for Madeira, Portugal. Today at 32. Grocery stores, food shopping, cooking our favorite meals with leftovers for the next day if we’d like, a better WiFi signal, restaurants with offerings befitting both of us. And then, there’s the perpetual view of the ocean from every window. We’d already seen the house in Madeira when our ship docked at the port in Funchal in April 2013. We loved it.

The river was not as deep as it may have been a month ago with the snow melting at the mountain peaks.

Although it may sound as if I’m unhappy here, I’m not unhappy. There are enough good things to avoid any real angst. Tom and I laugh, having fun every day. I’m finally beating him at Gin, for the first time in four countries.  He beat me in Italy where we first starting keeping a countrywide tally, again in Kenya and then in South Africa.  If my luck continues over the next 31 days, (we leave on the 32nd day) I may win Morocco.

The interior of the small hotel on the river. Although not for us, with the barest of amenities, it was clean and suitable for backpackers and those seeking a hostel type environment.

Happiness is a choice. I choose it. Occasionally angst creeps in for minutes but never for an hour or a day. It wafts away when we laugh, we talk and we plan for the future.

The river view from the veranda at the hotel.

We have our health. We have each other. We’re staying true to our budget. We have this wonderful house and it’s amazing people with us each day. We have much to anticipate, today, tomorrow, as we head out to further explore, holding hands, feeling comforted and safe at each other’s side.

The river view from the window in our hotel room.

We’ve learned a lot here in Marrakech. We’ve learned more about how we’ll respond in certain environments.  With much world left to see, we’re excited to plan our future travels, now more well-armed than ever with the knowledge that the busy city is not for us for longer than a few weeks.

With the upcoming two weeks each in Paris and London, three days in Boston, six days in Vancouver, British Columbia, 11 days in Waikiki, Hawaii, we’ll have all the big city experiences we’ll need for awhile. From there, the peace, serenity, and nature are at our fingertips in our upcoming plans well into the future, as we figure out where in the world we like to live next. We’ll keep you posted.

A map of our location on the wall in the hotel’s veranda.  The hotel was located at the far-right.

Health providing, we’ll continue on, only until we can’t do it anymore. Stumbles along the way? Sure. We accept that. Will we love everywhere we go? Most likely, not. We never expected to love everywhere we’ll live.

The challenge of discovery drives us with the hope and expectation (oh, foolish me!) that we’ll be happy and comfortable more times than not, just like the rest of us who have good days and bad, wherever we may live.   That’s life, isn’t it?
                                                  _____________________________________

Photo from one year ago today, April 13, 2013:

Tom eating frog legs which he surprisingly enjoyed for the first time. We were on the Carnival Liberty when we arrived in Miami where we were booked for another cruise on the same ship, referred to as a “back to back.” We didn’t love Carnival cruises as much as other cruises but the food was especially good.  For details of the post from that date, please click here.

A treacherous but breathtaking drive through the High Atlas Mountains…Motion sickness got me!

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This is a video (not ours) of the mountainous road we traveled yesterday while returning to Marrakech. The winding roads continued for over six hours.
Yesterday, on the return trip from the Atlas Mountains back to Marrakech, I was seated in the back seat on the right, preferring to have the advantage of better shots of the scenery. In Morocco, a former French colony, drivers, are seated on the left and they drive on the right side of the road, compared to the US and Canada.
Kasbah along the mountain drive.


The architecture was interesting and seemingly designed and constructed in the familiar manner of Morocco.
With nothing and no one blocking my view, I’d intended to take a video and many photos on the long way down the mountain. My good intentions were foiled when no more than 30 minutes into the seven hours into the drive from the hotel, for the first time in our travels I developed motion sickness, unlike any case I’ve ever had in my life.
The greenery against the clay rocks is breathtaking.
We were curious as to the lives of the Berber people living in many small villages in the mountains.
After eight cruises in 2013, the unbelievable 50 foot, 15.23 meters waves for three days on the Norwegian Epic while crossing the Atlantic Ocean beginning on April 20th, neither of us ever had a tinge of motion sickness. Never once did I get sick while driving through the mountainous roads we in Tuscany, Italy last summer.
 A reception area near the entrance to a Kasbah.
If Italy’s roads were winding, the roads in the Atlas Mountains were that much worse, especially with the length of the drive. It Italy, we drove a short 25 minutes each way in order to do errands. Never once did I get motion sickness in our travels until yesterday.
A housing area in a village along the road.
Not the case yesterday, when I made an awful mistake. During the beginning of the less scenic part of the winding roads, I read a chapter in a book on the Kindle app on my phone. Big mistake. It was with this cocky attitude of being invincible that I ate raw vegetables when first arriving in Morocco, ending up sick for weeks. 
Along a modern highway in Ouarzazate. Actually, all the highways were modern and maintained in most of the towns and villages along the long drive.
Yesterday, with that same laissez-faire attitude that, in a short time I put down the phone, in a state of self disdain, knowing I’d crossed the motion sickness barrier and most likely, would be ill for the remainder of the hours-long drive down the mountains. So true it was!
At times, we were surprised to see the modern buildings.
For over five full hours, every hairpin turn, every winding curve, every passing maneuver, exacerbated my desire to tell Mohamed to stop the vehicle so I could puke on the side of the road. I tried everything: sitting up straight, looking forward as opposed to the side of the road, leaning my seat back, all to no avail.
Many of the older buildings in Ouizazate were relatively maintained. In all of the construction we’ve seen, nothing appears to vary greatly from the traditional Moroccan architecture.
I knew that once my equilibrium was gone, the only way to recover was to get out of the mountains onto straight roads. I kept asking Tom the time. It crawled, as compared to the competent fast pace Mohamed navigated the treacherous roads.
These are the walls of a double wall protected ClubMed in Ouarzazate.
At one point Tom said, “Don’t start that!” What??? I wasn’t “starting this on purpose!” My state of motion sickness wasn’t something I could turn off. It wasn’t psychological!  I quickly reminded him, “This is like when you get an intestinal response from eating bread. You can’t will it away” But, I wasn’t about to be angry. I needed to focus on keeping from puking in the car, my only mission on the rest of the way down.
An entrance to a Kasbar.
How badly I wanted to take more photos. In a few spots, I managed to take a few shots quickly looking forward in order to regain my focus.
These are not unlike apartments and condos that may line any highway in any country with only a few design differences.
After the first hour, I realized another possible contributing factor; I had eaten breakfast at the hotel; a two-egg omelet, and three triangles of Laughing Cow cheese since I was still hungry from the previous night’s sparse dinner of tough meat and overcooked zucchini and carrots. Surely, a full stomach contributed to my awful state of dizziness and nausea.
We wondered if all of this housing development had stopped due to economic conditions.
The time slowly ticked by. When we finally reached level roads, I straightened in my seat, looking ahead. During the last 30 minutes into Marrakech, I began to recover.
We also wondered as to the expenses and the sources of income for the people living in these developments.
Adil met us at the drop off point outside the Medina which Mohamed had arranged. He was delighted to help us with our bags. At that point, I wasn’t capable of carrying my handbag, let alone anything else for the long walk back to Dar Aicha.  
The colors in the terrain and the structures blended so well that at times it was easy to miss the structures.
My legs were stiff after sitting in one spot in my seat in the SUV without stopping for a bathroom break during the last six hours which neither of us needed (I was too sick to even take a sip of water during the entire drive). The return walk to Dar Aicha further helped alleviate the remnants of the motion sickness.
One of the few photos I took as we navigated the winding mountain roads on the return drive to Marrakech.
By the time we reached our riad, I was fast on my way to feeling well, especially when we saw the smiling faces of Madame Zahra and Oumaima happy to see us, as we were them. 
These exquisite rock formations appeared as if they’d been carved by hand.  Only Mother Nature and millions of years contributed to this amazing scenery.
Neither of us felt like traveling in a petite taxi to go out to dinner, and without giving ample notice to Madame and Oumaima to shop and prepare dinner, we both agreed we’d forgo dinner to snack on nuts and cheese. Food was the last thing on my mind.
There was one picturesque scene after another.
By 6:00 pm we were unpacked and ready for a relaxing evening. I finished yesterday’s post, uploaded it by 7:00 pm and we were psyched to watch what proved to be an excellent movie that we’d previously downloaded on Graboid,  “August: Osage County.”
From time to time, a small hotel popped up on the mountain drive
With many more photos from our short trip yet to post, we’re staying in today. Spring Break, in many countries, started yesterday and the souk will be packed today and tomorrow, most likely continuing over the next week.  We’ll attempt an outing.
On a few occasions, we saw motor homes navigating the mountain roads.
Have a wonderful weekend as spring attempts to peek out from an awful winter for many of our worldwide readers. Stay tuned for more.
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Photo from one year ago today, April 12, 2013:
Blurry photo of us taken by a tablemate on the Carnival Liberty as we were having dinner at a “sharing” table in the main dining area. For details of that date, please click here.

Change of plans…We’re back in Marrakech…A story to tell…More photos from the Atlas Mountains…

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The renowned Kasbah, Kasbah Aït Ben Haddo, located in Dades Valley in the Atlas Mountains.

We’re back in Marrakech one day early. That’s what we chose when we decided to travel the world, the ability to changes our plans without apologies, without rationalizations, and without devising flimsy excuses.

We’re only accountable to ourselves as a unit of two loving, committed individuals whose utmost concern is the happiness of one another. Our own pleasure is derived unselfishly from the joy we observe in the other, making each and every experience worthwhile, even if it isn’t 100% of our own liking.

In order to get to the above Kasbah, we had to navigate across two creeks stepping on these muslin covered rocks. I must say, the distance between each step was about as far as my legs could reach. Luckily, we made it both ways without getting our shoes wet.

The second creek we had to navigate to get to the Kasbah.

For this reason, we ended our road trip halfway through. No camel ride in the Sahara Desert. No second night in a hotel. We stayed true to ourselves and to each other.

Our readers may ask, “Which of the two of you wanted to end the trip early?”

Once we arrived at the Kasbah after a steep downhill climb over uneven rocks and making our way across the two creeks, we were told a movie was in production and we wouldn’t be allowed to take photos. No photos? We left amid the trucks and confusing making the return walk across the two creeks and a long uphill climb back to Mohamed’s vehicle.


We were disappointed to be unable to see the interior of this fortress-like structure.

In our minds, that doesn’t matter. If one of us is not having a good time, the other wants nothing more than the return of the other’s usual sense of well being and contentment. In this case, it meant returning to Dar Aicha, our riad in Marrakech.

Our last look at the Kasbah Ait Ben Hado before we continued on our way.

Some may say this is condescending and patronizing. For us, it’s about being happy, letting nothing short of one of life’s unforeseen tragedies, to impose upon that blissful state of being.

What didn’t we like about this prearranged all-inclusive trip to the Atlas Mountains, ending with a trip to the Sahara Desert, that we decided to cut short?

The drive through the mountains was treacherous with endless hairpin turns on the two-lane road with the necessity of passing slow-moving vehicles. On the seven-hour return drive today, I actually got carsick for the first time in many years.

Oh, we could place blame on the rock hard bed and pillows on which neither of us slept a wink. We could blame it on the beef dinner with meat too hard to chew requiring that every six bites we had to spit out a tangled glob of a sinewy mess into our paper napkins.

We could blame it on the tiny room, a supposed “upgrade” where the towels and sheets were mismatched and threadbare, the toilet paper unperforated (never saw this before), the toilet leaking, and the minuscule bar of soap that refused to lather. Or, we could blame it on the banging drums that started at 10:45 pm to entertain the busloads of overnight guests, while us old-timers thrashed about trying to fall asleep. 

The rock formations varied throughout the area from a dull grey such as this to some of the most vibrant colors we’ve seen since our Blyde River Canyon trip in South Africa three months ago.

In reality, if blame were required and it is not, we can only blame ourselves for these reasons:
1.  Our expectations and frame of reference.
2.  Our unwillingness to spend what would prove to be almost US $1000, MAD $8133, (including tips and beverages) for two nights in hotels and three days on the road and feel forced to continue on, only compounding the angst of this expenditure.

Check out the shepherding dog in the center of this photo. We saw sheep grazing on many different elevations as we traveled.

Why not “stick it out?” Because we don’t have to. That’s the magic of being a grown-up in charge of one’s own destiny.

In our old lives, we may have considered “What will “people” say?”

We were headed to the popular tourist site of the modern village of Ouarzazate (pronounced, wer-ziz-zate). 

In this life, with thousands of people worldwide with whom we’re sharing our story, depicting our daily comings and goings, we decided long ago that many will accept our decisions and many may not. It goes with the territory. 

But, above all, we chose to “tell it like it is” to the best of our ability without hurting anyone or their business by our own occasional displeasure.

 Ouarzazate would be an excellent place to stay for many tourists for a vacation/holiday with its many modern shopping centers, restaurants, and arts and cultural centers.

What did we like about the last day and a half?  Our excellent and thoughtful driver, Mohamed provided perfection. The river view from the hotel and our room were lovely. The hotel concierge, Rashid was helpful and kind. The Atlas Mountains and surrounding villages were interesting and scenic but, not eliciting the awe and wonder of many of our adventures in the past almost 16 months since we left the US.

Yeah, we’re “Hooked on a Feeling” (click link for the song from 1968). Our past amazing past experiences surely have spoiled us, a hard act to follow for future experiences. After Petra, the exciting cruise through the Middle East, the Maasai Mara, and Marloth Park, we knew we ran this risk. 

These swirling rock formations most likely formed million of years ago, made one think these striations were a result of water.

Today, when we returned to the Medina, Adil was waiting for us to help with our bags.  When we entered the riad, Madame Zahra and Oumaima were awaiting us with hugs proudly showing off the usual spotless environment.  We were “home” and it felt darned good after only a short time away.

What do we do from here?  We continue on…with the same hope and perhaps misaligned expectations that we struggled to leave behind during these past 32 hours.  We know that that ultimate high will be ours once again, but not necessarily in the mountains of Morocco.

Tomorrow, earlier in the day than today, we’ll be back with the continuation of our many photos of the Atlas Mountains.  Have a lovely Friday evening!  We plan on it!
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Photo from one year ago today, April 11, 2013:

We opted out of this excursion to Mahogany Bay in Roatan, Honduras to lay on this manmade beach owned by the cruise line which charged for lawn chairs, beach towels and beverages.  Instead, we stayed behind with the pools almost to ourselves without incurring any additional expenses.  For details in Part 2 of the harrowing experience of having our vitamins confiscated, please click here.

Long road trip to the Atlas mountains…Beautiful scenery…Mother Nature did it again…Expectations?

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As we began the ascent to the Atlas Mountains, we realized it was the first snow we’d seen in a very long time.

It’s 5:00 pm Thursday. A short time ago we checked in at the Hotel du Vieux du Dades, Ouarzazate, Morocco after an eight-hour drive through the Atlas Mountains and valleys.

At the lower elevations, we passed many small villages. The higher the elevation, the more modern the villages.

The hotel? Clean, modest. Not what we’d normally choose. But, it’s situated on a river gorge presenting a beautiful backdrop as we sit here now on the veranda, the sound of the rushing water music to our ears.

The sales as a result of tourist trade are what sustains many of the villagers.

As world travelers, having left the US a mere 15 months ago, our expectations when we travel from the vacation home of the month, are outrageously high. After all, we’ve seen exquisite Petra in Jordan, been on an extraordinary Big 5 safari in the Maasai Mara, Kenya, and lived in the free-roaming wildlife area of Marloth Park, South Africa. How does anything else compare?

Periodically, we cross a river or a creek. Many of our photos today were taken through the car window glass as we zoomed by.  I didn’t want to keep dealing with opening and closing the window during the eight-hour drive. Cloudy most of the day, we did our best to take photos.

For us, nothing else can. Nor, as we enthusiastically continue on, do we expect to top those experiences. If we do, we’ll call it “safari luck” and feel grateful. It is from this perspective that we write over these next few days, putting our expectations aside viewing today’s journey through the eyes of travelers perhaps don’t have this outlandish frame of reference.

With the snow melting at the summit, many creek beds and rivers consisted of fast-moving water.

By no means, do we imply that the beauty we witnessed today is any less than the terrain we’ve seen in many of our travels? In many ways, Morocco offers some astounding scenery that many may never see in a lifetime. And, for those who may have seen it, have it etched in their memories, relived in stories and photos they proudly share for years to come.

Of course, I squealed with delight when seeing these sheep along the side of the road. Grass-fed lamb is a frequently served dish in Morocco which we’ve enjoyed every few nights when Madame Zahra cooks for us. Tom, never a fan of eating lamb, actually likes it here for its mild flavor, tasting more like beef pot roast than lamb.

As for the hotel; the room is small, minimally appointed with the barest of essentials. If the bed, pillows, and blankets prove to be comfortable, the water is hot for the morning shower, the WiFi continues to work as well as it is at the moment and the food is reasonably good, we’ll hardly complain. 

The contrast of the clay-colored hills against the lush greenery creating a picturesque setting.

Oh, expectations! Would that they could waft away from our lives to make each new experience blissful instead of wrought with shades of the past?

In some areas, the color of the hills was a deep pink and they were orange in others.

Our goal had been to visit the Atlas Mountains, which we’ve done. Tomorrow, we’ll head to the Sahara Desert to experience the sand dunes and, if we feel ambitious, we’ll ride camels. Saturday, we’ll head back to Marrakech arriving in the late afternoon. 

Many small farms, richly green, dotted the landscape.

Over the next several days, we’ll post our zillions of photos, doing our best to describe where and what we’ve seen. Today, we reached a maximum elevation of 9708 feet, 2959 meters, above sea level, suffering no ill effects. I gasped for air once, when we were up that elevation when we stopped at an overlook rest stop filled with tourists, most of whom were smoking. Smoking is allowed everywhere in Morocco, as is the case in many countries.

The hills and mountains had endless housing areas such as this, with most of the homes occupied, as we determined from clothes hanging on lines to dry.

Another new experience befell us today. We used a co-ed restroom in a public venue, a first for both of us. 

Stopping at a popular overlook, we spotted what appeared to be a soccer field at a local school.

As for the actual driving experience, it was flawless.  Mohamed is an excellent driver for which we made a point of commending him. The two-lane mountain roads were often tricky to navigate when passing slow-moving vehicles and he exercised diligent safety in each instance putting me, particularly, at ease.  Our readers know how I love those hairpin turns, right?

Can you spot the waterfall in this photo of the Atlas Mountains? 

Tonight, Mohamed will also stay at this hotel meeting up with us in the morning after the included breakfast as we begin another day of travel making our way to the Sahara desert while hopefully putting aside those pesky expectations, to enjoy yet another day in our travels.

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Photo from one year ago today, April 10, 2013:

One year ago today was when we boarded the Carnival Liberty in Belize when our bag of vitamins was confiscated by security, none of which required a prescription, all of which may be purchased over the counter. What an experience it was as we were treated like drug smugglers. This never occurred again when we’ve since used or disposed of most of the supplements to lighten our load. See Part 1 for the details by clicking here.

Road trip begins tomorrow monring at 8:00 am…Atlas Mountains…Sahara Desert…Time change in Morocco…No clue…

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The pointy-toed shoes remind us of magic carpets and flowing gowns typical of the perception of Morocco which is not too far from reality…minus the flying carpet, of course.

This morning, Samir stopped by to discuss our upcoming trip. As a matter of fact, he asked if we knew there had been a time change by one hour, four days ago. We did not know! We wondered why we were called to dinner at 5:30 last night, an hour earlier than our usual 6:30 PM. We proceed to go to the table on several occasions mentioning how nice it was to eat while it was still so light! Go figure. How would we have known?

Tomorrow morning at 8:00 am, Adil will come to get us to lead us through the shortcut to Mohamed’s awaiting new white SUV who will be our driver over the next three days as we explore the Atlas Mountains and the Sahara Desert.

These shoes looked comfy in soft leather, particularly the rounded toes styles. I’d certainly buy a pair if I had the room.

For two nights we’ll be staying in two different hotels, at varying elevations in the mountains. Although I have no interest in going to the highest points in the mountains at over 13,000 feet, we’ll certainly be at higher elevations than either of has traveled in many years.

Our hope is that we’ll have no trouble adapting to the elevation. But, “they,” say the elevation randomly has an effect on people, some with little consequence and others who become very ill with AMS (acute mountain sickness) when reaching altitudes above 8000 feet, 2400 meters.

This was the pile of belts from which I selected the black one on the top.  The shop owner installed a buckle that I’d chosen from a bag full of buckles. You’ll see me wearing this belt in future photos. I’ve found that a belt and a little costume jewelry can dress up an otherwise boring outfit.

At this point, with Samir making all the arrangements, we have no clue how high up we’ll be traveling.  Tomorrow, we’ll find out how high up we are able to travel. We’ve decided it we become ill, we’ll immediately return to a lower elevation.
 
This morning, it took me all of 10 minutes to pack with only the necessity to add the toiletries I’ll use in the morning. My current minimal wardrobe makes packing easier than ever for such a short trip. The same goes for Tom who is also down to a skeleton clothing supply.

This style of shoe is commonly worn by the locals, ideal for slippers but, there are very thin for walking any distances.

Getting away for a few days will serve us well, as we’re almost halfway through our time in Morocco, a time in all of our two to three months stays, that we decide its time to getaway. This is no different than the vast population who live in their permanent home most of the year, occasionally deciding to go away for a few days.

Over the past week or so we’ve begun booking flights for our 13 family members meeting us in Hawaii in December in less than eight months. With holiday season airline tickets selling quickly, we’ve worked fast and furiously to lock in the flights. So far, we’ve purchased nine tickets with four more to go. It will be a huge relief to have this part out of the way. 

These colorful bowls are often used for serving food.  One might be concerned about lead content when unsure of the materials used in making these.

Next week, we’ll book our flights to Madeira only a month away and also a rental car for our 75 days on the island. With “island” rates comparable to Hawaii (for which we’ll also book a rental car next week), we’ll pay a premium. The house in the hills of the mountainous island of Madeira would make using taxis impractical and cumbersome. 

Right now, we’re experiencing huge expenses: upcoming flights, cars, rental fees, and our trip away for a few days, all of which add up quickly. No less than three or four times a day, we consult our budget, adding new expenses as they occur, checking, and rechecking. 

Outside the Medina, in the new city, we encountered many ice cream shops. The flavors are appealing to me (viewing purposes only). If Tom were to order some, most likely, he’d choose boring vanilla.

Traveling as we do requires constant diligence in planning and documenting expenses, never for a moment feeling we don’t have a handle on our current financial situation. This is not unlike those budget-minded individuals, that may be in the minority, that keep track of expenses in their daily lives.

These creamy swirls made my mouth water.  Tom reminds me that I’m a food voyeur.

Honestly, in our old lives, I didn’t keep track of our day to day expenses on a separate spreadsheet, documenting every dollar spent in every category. I’d set up our bank account to record expenses but not to the finite detail we do now. 

Although, at many times in our old lives, I’d promised myself I would create a budget and stick to it. Ha! How many of us have thought about doing that? Many. How many have actually done it? Few. Very few.

Back at the Medina, we made our way to the souks for our return walk. 

We usually upload a post by noon, our time here in Morocco which may reach you in the morning, depending on your current location. While we’re away, you should be able to see a post by Thursday evening.

In the event there is no post on Thursday, please understand that it may be due to a poor or non-existent WiFi signal at the hotel. We’ve been told the signal will be fine but as we know from experience, it may not be able to upload our site with photos. Even in the remote Maasai Mara while on safari all day we were able to post with photos in the evening.

Hopefully, we’ll “see” you tomorrow!  Until then…
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Photo from one year ago, April 9, 2013:

No photos were posted from one year ago today, April 9, 2013, our travel day from Belize to the cruise ship. Instead, we’re posting a photo from March 8, 2013, which we’d yet to repost. 

Gosh, we were tan! Now, we’re pasty white without a single sunning day in months. This photo is from March 8, 2013, when we’d been in Placencia, Belize for over a month, after spending one hour in the warmth of the sun each day.  For details of that date, please click here.