Marrakech is my favorite city in Morocco. The reasons for this are largely personal. It is the nearest big city to me (three hours if you lucky) that feels normal. It has boulevards, malls, taxis, women in public, shorts and t-shirts, and so many other things that you take for granted until they are missing. For example I recently received the following text message from a friend:
“Im in a mall. Sitting in a
coffee chain. Having an iced
Mochacino – I s*** you not –
with a movie theatre and
tgif s up the escalator. In
Marrakech. Holy crap.”
While living in a surreal journey, the pauses taken in reality, are invaluable. Marrakech provides that.
I remember first hearing about Marrakech in a kitchen in Shoreditch, London. A friend’s flatmate had just returned from a romantic weekend there with her boyfriend. It was an interesting sounding city and as good a topic of conversation as any as dinner cooked and London’s weather fell outside. I could not imagine at that point in time how much of my life would be spent on its streets.
‘Kech is my salvation. It is where I crawled away to in order to recover from food poisoning. Where I spent New Years. Where I taught seventy four children to scream, ‘Oh A Laeah!”
I hope to have many more adventures there, in my favorite Moroccan city.