I am still with my friend’s family at their home in Idstein. Earlier this week I spent 48 hours in Cologne.
In this city in 1709 Giovanni Maria Farina, an Italian perfume maker, created a fragrance he named after his new home. He described to his brother the concoction called Eau de Cologne: “I have found a fragrance that reminds me of an Italian spring morning, of mountain daffodils and orange blossoms after the rain.” The original formula is still sold there.
But the highlight (literally) of the city is the Cologne Cathedral (Koelner Dom), the largest Gothic church in Germany and the tallest Roman Catholic cathedral in the world. The UNESCO Heritage site was built to house the bones of the three wise men, brought to the city in 1164. Started in 1248 and finished in 1880, it was dedicated to St. Peter and the Virgin Mary in the tradition of Gothic cathedrals in northern France. From 1880-1884 it was the tallest building in the world.
Bones of the 3 Wise Men are enshrined here in gold.
I originally planned to see in 24 hours four of the city’s seven markets–the Cathedral Market, Old Town “Home of the Elves” Market, Neumarkt’s Market of Angels, and the Harbor Christmas Market. An ambitious plan, but it would mean booking a room for only one night. A solo female traveler, I wanted to be near the Cathedral Market, having read it’s the hub of celebration, to enjoy live music at night. I hoped to walk everywhere in safety day or night with no need for a taxi—even to and from the train station. I found a hotel, in this perfect location on one of the websites with deals I typically use. However, my friend, Mithu, said rather than sprinting through the city, I should book through HRS (Hotel Reservation Services) because at their prices I could get two nights for the price of one. My room was 65 Euro. It overlooked the Elf Market and was one block from the Cathedral Market. Mission accomplished.
The Elf Market Outside my window
Breakfast
Lunch (Mulled wine comes in a mug which can be kept as a souvenir or turned in for the deposit).Green cabbage–my favorite dishDinner
Live music, more food and Glühwein or “glow-wine” (the German winter drink of heated red wine spiced with cinnamon sticks, cloves, star aniseed, citrus, and sugar) one could ever possibly eat or drink, and friendly folks were found at all four. With the Cologne-Bonn airport close by and train connections aplenty, it is a beautiful Christmas destination.
Around the corner and up the hill…Cathedral Market
I met a very kind lady, Lina, who sold the best cookies ever and is a Life Coach at www.aura-soma-wellness.de.
Christmas is charged with nostalgia. I’m in bed looking out my window at the Market of the Elves in Cologne, Germany. Under tents and trees all lit up, replicas of funny bearded men beckon below. Elf statues are more numerous here than in pictures of Santa’s workshop in the book Mama Lou read to my sister and me when we were kids. I came to Cologne to find Christmas cheer because I knew I’d need it.
I have dreaded the holidays for months. It is the first Christmas I’ll spend without my children with me. My son graduates in May on my daughter’s birthday. Last year we had the ultimate Christmasreunion, but because flights from Marrakesh to Nashville are too expensive with the May trip, we decided I’ll be home for Christmas if only in my dreams.
Because flights are cheap to Europe, I decided to spend the holiday with a friend in Germany and take the train to the Christmas markets. My daughter said she couldn’t bear to think of me sad in my apartment alone and all the family wished me well. All my coworkers—international teachers who in their collective years abroad have traveled to every country on the planet it seems—said “No one does Christmas like Germany.” And so here I am in a city with seven Christmas markets—an amazing place (as you’ll see in my next post). Yet despite enjoying the music, live trees, winter air wafting with spices and mulled wine, I’ve also shed some tears.
Since moving to Africa I’ve had bouts of loneliness and fear. Through every trial God comforted me, strengthened me, grew me more into the woman He has always wanted me to be. I have found freedom, peace, joy that nothing from without can sustain—only his presence within. I have seen beauty and experienced adventure as gifts—love letters from Him–during this amazing season. I have been protected and contributed on this new continent, feeling totally in His will and being blessed beyond anything I could have ever imagined. Still… despite so much growth…so much faith and thankfulness for how far God has brought me physically, emotionally, and spiritually throughout the course of my life and particularly over the last sixteen months… despite feeling closer to God than ever and thus, like the Proverbs woman clothed in strength and dignity who smiles at the future … a woman who now lives most days without fear, regret, and doubt….that woman took a holiday. Today, thankfully, she is back.
While teaching The Life of Pi my eyes filled at the line, “All of life is letting go.” It seems I was brought to Africa to learn this truth more than any other. I had to let go of so much to follow the life in Morocco God planned for me. Being close to family and friends; renting the home and leaving the job where I’d been secure for over twenty years; giving up comforts like water and wifi that never failed, a car to grab what I forgot at the store, a neighborhood and greenway where I’d walk my sweet dog, Ella.
Letting go is painful. Because our natural reflex is to hold on. We fear if we let go we’ll lose something rather than free ourselves to receive gifts God wants to place in our hands. Letting go means losing the illusion of control and stepping out in faith, believing, remembering this leg of the journey was God-mapped though I can’t see where it ultimately will lead. I’m realizing that distance doesn’t mean I’m asked to let go of family and friends. Though I can’t hug them during the holidays, they are with me in my heart, loving me on Skype and in spirit.
Letting go means losing fear—the greatest enemy of the soul. I believe with all my heart, “God does not give us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind.” I just don’t always live it. Like Linus, I’ve been able to drop my security blanket (whatever I contrive and hold onto thinking it will protect me against fallout of a fallen world) when I remember two simple words—a mantra in my Bible: “Fear Not.”
Yesterday as I walked along the Rhine River with God I thanked Him for being my wonderful Counselor, my Prince of Peace. I believe with all my heart He is Emmanuel—God with us. This morning I googled “Daily Devotion” to reset (as I must do every day) my mind to truth. Only truth trumps fear. Up popped this post by Jason Soroskiexplaining the impetus for dropping what we cling to in fear. I’m also grateful for his Part 2, which reminds me why, after letting go, I as a human, pick up my blanket again. I’ve often felt like Charlie Brown–someone who wants to be perfect but never gets it right. I’m thankful for this reminder that I don’t have to. I’m loved by One who will never leave me.
I came to Morocco believing the move would benefit my family, finances, future, and faith. In the latter, I knew I’d find true freedom. I haven’t seen where my story will end and thus fear sometimes still rears its ugly head, but the Christmas story reminds me again that I am to fear not.
On the train ride to Cologne I saw beautiful woods and a river. I knew this trip was what I needed. Though the skies were cloudy and I was striving to trust in the dark what I’d seen in the light, God again was taking me on a journey that would make me lie down in green pastures…lead me beside still waters… restore my soul.
And this Christmas I find comfort and cheer knowing no matter what 2016 holds, no matter where I’ll live, work, serve, that surely goodness and mercy will follow my all the days of my life and I’ll dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
I spent a perfect Marrakesh afternoon recently with Brigitte, owner of Kosybar and Dar Beija, with Andrena, her longtime friend. Andrena and I were off from work for Moroccan Independence Day so we were thrilled to enjoy lunch in the sunshine. Later we walked it off through the newly refurbished Jewish Quarter to Brigitte’s beautiful boutique hotel.
BrigitteAndrena (right)
Day or night the three-story restaurant is a gathering place. I’d been to Kosybar before, a favorite Happy Hour hangout of coworkers and other locals and expats. In a city where riad and restaurant rooftops are so close you can hopscotch your way across the skyline, Kosybar’s sunset view is one of the most unique places in town to sip and see the sky change colors. Perched in their gigantic nests just above patrons, the famous storks of El Badi Palace, began in 1578 by Arab Saadian Sultan Ahmad al-Mansur, keep watch over dusk. The tourist attraction is home now of the Marrakech Folklore Festival.
First trip to Kosybar last spring with Annie and Lexi
Through the gate below Kosybar is the El Badi Palace (below)
As we spoke over lunch, Spike, a talented and gregarious Canadian singer who fills the dance floor downstairs Thursday-Sunday nights, stopped by the table to say hi. Three other expat guests—one who had returned home but like so many others had been drawn back by the “Marrakesh spell”–did the same, giving Brigitte–a Moroccan kisses on both cheeks. She has a sensitive, sweet spirit that friends and regular customers find soothing.
Our lunch prepared by Japanese Chef Nao Tamaki was delicious–a fusion of Asian, French, and Moroccan fare. Though not usually a dessert person, I LOVED the apple turnovers. In addition to lunch, the restaurant serves a tapas menu afternoons and a dinner menu evenings. They have a full range of cocktails including a good selection of wines. The mojitos are the best I’ve tasted in town.
It was a poignant day. Sad and shocked by the Paris bombing, Brigitte talked of the tragedy and her daughter’s decision that they keep their plans for an upcoming trip to the City of Lights. Brigitte said though it is safe in Morocco it had been quiet the last few days as it is every time such a tragedy happens. She agreed with her daughter that we can’t be ruled by fear and they should go to Paris as planned rather than cancel.
Despite disturbing world events, we so enjoyed the day we’d been given. As moms born on three continents (Andrena is Scottish), we spoke of our children. Brigitte shared some of her family history. She and her husband, Nabil, started their journey as high school sweethearts 25 years ago in Meknes. Together they attended University of South Florida in Clearwater, Schiller University, and University of Nevada in Las Vegas where they received degrees in Hotel Administration, Hospitality, and International Business. Their oldest child was born in Clearwater, the other three in Las Vegas.
They returned to Morocco and in 2005 opened Kosybar. Of her staff, she said, “We’re family.”
On the square beneath, workmen continuing renovation.
She also shared local history. The previous owner of the riad which is now Kosybar was a Jewish clockmaker. Moroccan kings have always protected Jewish residents and many pilgrimages are made here to burial sites of their saints. Many of the Jewish houses had tunnels under the city to the palace in case of attack. One of the many things I appreciate about Morocco is its historic and present tolerance of the religions of foreigners. In the Marrakesh Mellah, one of several Jewish communities in Morocco, Jewish and Muslim merchants work alongside one another. Brigitte said of her childhood: “My dad was French, and my mom was Moroccan. Her best friend was Jewish. We all grew up together.”
I remembered on the first tour I took of Marrakesh our guide began at the spice shop just across the street (below). I couldn’t believe how bright and shiny the neighborhood was compared to when I first visited—dust, exhaust fumes, and years of use washed and refinished.
Entrance to the Lazama Synogogue
Dar Beija, a boutique bed and breakfast riad
Riad rooftop with a panoramic view of the Marrakesh Medina–palaces, sanctuaries, and the Atlas Mountains
Thank you, lovely ladies, for the pleasure of good company and conversation. Truly it was an afternoon of pure peace.
The third stop on my November beach hop along the Moroccan Atlantic Coast was Paradis Plage Surf and Spa Resort. Owners take pride in being the first hotel in Morocco to combine yoga and surfing—a dynamic duo since yoga prepares and repairs the body after surfing. The property invites guests to ride waves, climb camels, or salute the sun as it rises and sets. Here couples, families, friends, and solo travelers enjoy over 100 suites with terraces or balconies opening to pool or sea. Recreation varies from four area golf courses and an outdoor cinema. Located 30 minutes from Agadir and 50 minutes from an international airport connecting to European capitals via 3-hour flights, the resort is where westerners love to play.
Started by Kabbage Abbes, one of the first investors in Agadir hotels, who teamed with Francois Payot, head of Rip Curl Europe, the resort is a work of art run by Abbes’ daughter, Naima, and her husband, Vincent. Furnishings were created by locals and the gorgeous green spaces and gardens are by Spanish landscaper, Sergio Castaneda Beltran.
Photo by Paradis Plage
Excited to learn more about surfing and to practice yoga, I was shown to a gorgeous oceanfront suite. At the Surf House beach bar while sipping my Flag (local beer) and waiting for a Mexican burger (rare in this region), I saw horses and camels waiting patiently on the sand while cats lounged in the sun. Later, everyone returned for the golden orange sunset.
Simo, instructor here and in video above, is from Rabat. He has taught in Hawaii and on the US East Coast. He guarantees by the end of the first lesson every student will be up on their boards.
In partnership with Rip Curl, legendary Australian brand, Tarik Wahbi, surf pro from Tétouan, is ranked one of Morocco’s Top Ten surfers. Manager of the surf program, he leads a team of gregarious guys who hook up guests with equipment, instruction, and guides to the best waves.
Photo by Pardis Plage
Photo by Paradis Plage
Paradis Plage Surf and Spa Resort nurtures total wellness that fits the unique needs of each guest. Surf and Yoga packages are available for two or five days. Surf School Packages are available for 5 days—2 sessions per day.
Yoga and Spa packages range from two days (daily yoga course, a sensory hammam, and a massage) to five days (yoga course, two hammams, one body scrub, and two massages).
The resort shares with clients the secrets of Moroccan women’s beauty. All cosmetics are 100% natural Taroudant Argan oil, essential oils from Marrakech gardens, pebbles from Imi Ouaddar’s beach, facial treatments using Sous Massa prickly pip, Taliouine saffron or roses of Dades Valley.
Traditional Hammams consist of a black soap scrub, Atlas ghassoul wrap, Atlantic Coast seaweed wrap, Imouzzer honey, and spice scrub. Sensory Hammams fuse fragrances of in orange blossom and eucalyptus to relax and rejuvenate. Managing massages and other spa services is Marie France Riera.
Important Tip: Schedule spa services, especially massages, and yoga classes before you arrive or at check-in because appointments and classes fill fast.
Photo by Paradis PlagePhoto by Paradis Plage
Yoga group classes, the highlight of my getaway, are offered three times daily:
8-9:15 Sunrise Yoga (for all levels)—breathing, flexibility, strength, muscle toning, body opening
11-12:15 Easy Yoga (all levels but especially great for beginners) Asanas postures and poses; precision of body alignment, rhythm, balance
5:30-7 Sunset Yoga (all levels)– detoxification, relaxing based on Vinyasa flow systems
Also available are classes in Yin Yoga Therapy (gentle practice using blocks, pillows, restorative and relaxing to relieve tension in muscles and joints, relax spine and pelvis), Aerial Yoga (hammock used for suspension), Prenatal, Power Flow (ultimate workout for athletes), and 108 Greetings. Custom sessions can be arranged by Karim Fadali.
Photo by Paradis Plage
Classes are typically held in the Yoga Shala which consists of two beach studios connected by a lotus pond and facing the sea. Groups may rent the space for private retreats as they did during my stay so guests met in an open air space (see below). Sara, our excellent German instructor, lives in Cairo. Like the best teachers, she is creative, kind, soulful, and a learner herself. She was excited about taking her first surf lesson after our yoga class. My classmates were European as well– some there with partners and others solo. We “sent love to the flies”–pests in the Taghazout region at times– but packing insect repellent might also be a good idea. The small community made it possible to meet other guests in classes and connect with them at the poolside buffets or bars later.
Photo by Paradis Plage
I left feeling refreshed and restored by the beauty of nature and yoga. I loved seeing smiles on surfers’ faces when they did what we all must do to navigate and enjoy life– conquer fear, be flexible and strong, and stand tall as we ride the waves.
Thanks to Paradis Plage for a restful retreat. As always, the opinions are my own.
Recently I stayed at 5-star Sofitel Agadir Thalassa Sea & Spa, just named continental winner of “Luxury Wedding Destination in Africa” by the 2015 Luxury Hotel Awards. My time there was perfection. Though I endorse travel for all, I especially encourage single women waiting for a prince to live happily-after-after to find your bliss now at places that will make your dreams come true. At the premier hotel on beautiful Agadir Bay you don’t have to be on a honeymoon to be pampered like a new bride. In fact, any lady here will be given princess treatment.
When I moved to Marrakech to write, teach English, and travel, I began asking students where their families stay when vacationing. The answer was always the same.
In Paris? Sofitel. London? Sofitel. Rome? Sofitel. Morocco? Sofitel.
Such big brand loyalty (120 hotels on five continents in 40 countries) in the age of hip default to indie companies got my attention. But then again, I’ve always appreciated timeless, classic quality.
The French company committed to total well-being first opened its doors in Strasbourg in 1964. Dedicated to superior service infused with the celebration of art de vivre, each hotel provides cultural experiences from not only France but also each host country in which it is located. Showcasing the best artwork, literature, music, fashion, architecture, gardens, fitness, wines and foods, the hotel beckons guests to experience the sweet life layer by delicious layer. Like bees burrowing gently into the rose— velvet petal by velvet petal—drinking nectar that will become honey in the hive, guests enter space after space of palpable beauty in interactions that feed the soul. Sofitel Agadir Thalassa Sea & Spa stimulates every sense—from plush decor to soothing sounds of fountains and sea to a signature scent, Jatamansi, found only in the Himalayas. Jatamansi, also known as “nard” smells of citrus, ylang ylang and mountains and has so many medicinal powers it is considered sacred in some countries. I left filled, relaxed, energized, healed.
But beyond all these offerings, what makes the Sofitel the Sofitel is the people who work here. From the moment I walked through the doors everyone–from doorman to gardener to manager — greeted me by name. I arrived feeling ill–a situation that could have been a nightmare when traveling alone–but I quickly learned I couldn’t have been in better hands. The staff offered to get me medicine and kindly brought me treats to feel better–Chamomile tea, sweets and fruit, two dozen roses. I am forever grateful for their professional, superior service. Rightfully called, the So Staff is the best in the business.
The new Sofitel Agadir Thalassa Sea & Spa greets guests with a 100 meter long Andalusian pond and 2,000 rose bushes.
Photo by Sofitel
I was welcomed at the door of La Maison Arabe, the reception area in a traditional riad with contemporary black and white design, and served mint tea and Moroccan cookies while the staff checked me in.
Photo by Sofitel
Designer Didier Rey said of the collaboration of building this modern classic, “We had some great interaction with Moroccan artisans. Here I find the pleasure of working in simplicity as it was 20 years ago in France.”
In the gallery on display were thirty works by Younes Fizazi in a collection called “Moroccans Landscapes, Richness and Diversity.” Shots of the Atlas Mountains and Merzouga desert allowed me to relive great trips taken last fall and spring, but having just arrived from the surf town of Taghazout , I especially loved this photograph.
I was excited to see the pool and beach areas next. So Gorgeous.
The spacious suite was sumptuous, and I was especially thrilled with my three favorite elements — the terrace, bed, and bathtub (something I miss most in my Marrakech apartment). This one offered the best of both worlds–a soak with a view–so first on my agenda was a bubble bath followed by a massage.
Prestige Suite Photo by Sofitel
View of pool and ocean from outdoor lounge
Photo by Sofitel
My only complaint was the Sofitel MyBed which abducted me –a custom made mattress, featherbed, down duvet, and sleek, soft sheets. After my massage, I took a nap and slept for hours. 🙂
Hind has magic hands. I swear.
“Evasion et beaute Berbere” (Berber Escape and Beauty) treats the skin to Argan, prickly pear cactus, orange blossom water, rose water and honey. After treatments one can lounge overlooking Agadir Bay and sip herb or fruit drinks. Photo by Sofitel
Les Palais du Jardin, the gourmet restaurant where Chef Fatima cooks Moroccan cuisine fusing traditional and modern flavors. Photo by Sofitel
At L’Amane Bar fresh fruit smoothies, classic cocktails, and a jazz duo can be enjoyed every night from 7:30 PM.
Day 2 I rose early feeling great and ready for breakfast on the terrace of L’Atlantique.
After breakfast I went to play in the next door neighbor’s backyard–Sofitel Agadir Royal Bay, recipient of “Luxury Beach Resort in Morocco” by the 2015 Luxury Hotel Awards. Of its many distinctions, Sofitel Morocco was selected to host the first Kids’ Villa offering educational programs, pastry classes, belly dance, gardening workshops, swimming, aerobics, and a library for children. The honor was bestowed because The Little Prince was born in the imagination of Antoine de Saint Exupery in Morocco.
Opened in 2004, the Sofitel Agadir Royal Bay Resort was the first hotel brand in Agadir. A contemporary Kasbah, its colors are warm copper, wood, and orange, the emblem of the Souss Valley symbolic of fire representing Berber hospitality.
Six duplex villas with infinity pools overlook the ocean.
The So Lounge is the center of nightlife in Agadir and a great place for the Birthday Girl.
A winter holiday destination that offers sun- by- day and fire- by- night, Sofitel invites reflecting on the past year and dreaming of the one to come. Photo by Sofitel
Agadir, “Pearl of the South,” is a three-hour flight from major European cities. It’s where Europe migrates in winter to enjoy 300 days of sunshine each year and the Sofitel experience– timeless as Coco Chanel, delicious as Crème brûlée, and exotic as only Morocco.
Special thanks to Sofitel and Soukaina Ghallab for an unforgettable experience. As always, the opinions are my own.
Yesterday was fun–a day where many things came full circle. At the American school where I teach, I’ve been helping seniors seeking admittance into US and UK universities write and edit their personal statement essays. They are relieved to have that step behind them. My juniors have been writing persuasive speeches which they delivered… beautifully. I am excited about my students’ progress in writing and literary analysis (my AP seniors are reading Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the d’Urbevilles–a feat for native English speakers). How far they have come since kindergarten was magnified when some tiny trick-or-treaters stopped by from the lower school. Some of the four- year- olds don’t speak English, but, like my students, they will graduate fluent in English, Arabic, and French.
Nacer
Anthony
Mehdi
Teaching in a K-12 school has more advantages than academic growth. It creates a community– of students and teachers–of all ages. Those little ones made us smile. Those juniors–sometimes characters when it’s not Halloween–make me smile, too. Seeing how gently and kindly they treated the younger children made me happy. Likewise, in the US school where I taught and my children attended K-12, I saw my son who was full of energy act as a “big brother” to four-year-olds as his senior service project (just as a high school student was to him at that age).
Trick-or-Treat in Morocco
(left) Mahmoud, Chadi
Brahim
Fadi
I wouldn’t take anything for having my kids under my roof not only at home but also at work. It meant never missing a holiday party. Now most of my coworkers live in the same apartment complex–many in my building under my same roof. The lower school teachers have been planning costumes and parties for weeks. Thursday on our ride home on the bus, Pocahontas (Emily) sang “Five Little Pumpkins” with one of her students–the daughter of our coworker–and I mentally joined in. The words flooded back as if I were singing with Jasmine (Taylor) and Hercules (Cole) in our old Volvo station wagon. Yesterday I rode to school beside Cleopatra (Julie). I marvel at the stamina, creativity, and patience it takes to parent and teach little ones, and though the Energizer Bunnies/ lower school teachers were exhausted on the ride home yesterday, their planning and work sent a lot of kids home soaring.
Yesterday as I unlocked my classroom before the Halloween games began, I thought of my grandmother. My room is an annex to the main building where my students and I have our own rose garden and birds that sing in the trees outside my open windows. My grandmother taught in a one-room, rural school house, and when I hear the roosters crow as I turn the key, I think she must have heard the same as she prepared to start each day. She taught children of all ages and said she loved it because the older ones looked after the younger students.
I’m so glad my friends, Jodie and Rachel, brought their classes by. Jodie, like me, has grown children in the US. This is her first year abroad. While at church with Rachel last year, someone mistook her baby for my granddaughter. I love that I work with people of all ages from many countries. I like that yesterday my classroom had a span of ages as did my grandmother’s. And I love that we had fun with an American holiday my grandmother celebrated with my sister and me each year.
My Dad’s first cousin, Ellen, recently sent this picture.
It was taken in Gracey, Kentucky where my grandmother had a Halloween party, wrote this warning on the wall, and stood at the top of the stairs dressed as a witch. It remains there today in what’s called The Red House. My sister and I would decorate her living room with the same black cats, skeletons, and pumpkins she had used for that party in the basement before we were born. Her words still remain in that building. She had a lot of fun. She was a lot of fun. I hope she knows that yesterday on another continent Moroccan students celebrated an American tradition and found it fun, too.
Last Saturday over 21k people were involved in a worldwide shooting. From my home in Nashville to my residence in Marrakech, participants grabbed cameras and celebrated life on photo walks in 1000 locations. To learn more about Scott Kelby’s Photo Walks go here.
Ours was scheduled in the medina to begin at 9:30 at the Café de FRANCE on Jemma El Fna square. Jon–a friend, pro artist and skilled photographer– and I met Kate, a friend from Australia who told me about the event because she had previously done a walk in Melbourne. Synnove, a Norwegian friend I met on a hike last spring, surprised me when she appeared as we were meeting Mustapha, a Moroccan tour consultant of Intrepid Travel, signed up for the walk. After mint tea and juice, we wondered where our photographer/organizer was. Kate checked online and discovered he had changed the time to 3 PM. Unable to wait or return later, we made Jon our fearless leader and were off.
After winding through wares of silver, sequins, and Sahara green pottery, we went into Ben Youssef Madrasa, a visual feast. A special treat was a place I’d been wanting to check out– The Marrakech Museum of Photography— where we saw Jean Manuel’s Portrait of Touareg, the first “photoshopped portrait,” Landrock’s Young Arab, about which I learned Tunisian boys wore jasmine behind their left ears to signify to girls they were available, and Jean Manuel’s Portrait du Tourareg, a personal favorite for a couple of years now. Our session ended at the rooftop cafe of the museum–one of the best panoramic views from within city walls. Shooting in Marrakech manually–bringing its kalidescope shapes and colors into focus– was magic. Especially because it made me feel like a kid again.
Choosing settings for the study of light and dark the souks provide. Photo by Kate Woods
Photo by Kate
Kate
Kate’s photo
by Kate of me
Said to be first “photoshopped” photo (head placed on different body)–details below
I spent my second Eid al-Adha, “Festival of Sacrifice,” in Morocco perched again in my favorite holiday nest above Essaouira. I love Jack’s Apartments–especially numbers 6 and 7–positioned above the medina and wall hailed by history, Hollywood, and HBO. From the balcony all I see is sea. All I hear are seagull shrieks slicing through blue sky and roaring winds, waves crashing into rocks, then spewing like geysers below.
I returned to be calmed by the churning ocean and to be broken by beauty. To rest on the ramparts–a visual reminder of God’s protection everyday.
Here I can relax and remember what I too often forget–that prayers have been and will be answered. Though I’m usually optimistic, in seemingly impossible situations or when I’m tired of waiting for answers about the future to come, I’m tempted to think change will occur “when pigs fly.” Translated: Never or in a long, long time. Here pigs don’t fly because there are none. But goats do. It’s easy to be hopeful, to be grateful in Essaouira. Here my faith is strengthened in the quiet, the calm, the time to simply breathe and remember and cling to promises that I’ve been given for my good.
Thanks to my friend and coworker, Ritchie, for photographing the goats climbing Argan trees to feed. She joined me the last day of the break and her bus driver stopped, unlike mine, to allow passengers to get shots.
On this wall anything seems possible. Orson Welles became Othello in Shakespeare’s play of a biracial couple hundreds of years before South African apartheid and south America’s Jim Crowe laws were abolished. Here Game of Thrones’ Danerys—a widow and queen—raised an army from men she freed and commanded her dragon to destroy an evil ruler.
Danerys and her army–photo from link below where you will also find Tom Rowsell’s “Game of Thrones Holidays in Morroco” which includes a video of the scene to which I referred. http://www.essaouira.nu/culture_movies.htm
Here Mogador, original name of Essaouria, defended herself since she was founded by the Phoenicians in the 6th century agains Roman, Arab, Portuguese, and French rule. Pirates, an earthquake, and a tsunami couldn’t destroy the city that, like the Phoenix, rose from ashes.
I’ve always been revived by the sea. A mermaid in Marrakesh–a sometimes fish-out-of-water– I need its salt as salve. I feel small next to the ocean and the horizon–reminders of how big God is. His love washes over me. Though I still miss my children on the other side of the Atlantic every single day and find this empty nest thing one of the biggest challenges of my life, I’m thankful for this new season away with God where he provides new adventure, beauty, and relationship.
On a rooftop with a 360 panoramic view I wonder where I’ll be a year from now. One of my biggest lessons of last year–of this move–was in a book I taught, Life of Pi: “All of life is letting go.” I’m still working on more trust, less worry. I only know the same hand that stirs the surf and tames the tide holds whatever is to come. As is said here by Muslim friends (as well as Christians and Jews in the Middle East and parts of Africa)… In sha Allah. As God wills.
Apartment 6
Jack’s Apartments–#7 just below rooftop and #6 below it
Love of beauty is taste. The creation of beauty is art.—Ralph Waldo Emerson
Let the beauty of what you love be what you do. ― Rumi
It is very, very difficult to feel sad for long in Morocco because you can never be alone in Morocco. You are surrounded by beauty…It really is a place, I think, that nourishes the soul.–John Pittaway
A picture from Persian poetry, gorgeous girls in red swung open a heavy, studded door. They beckoned me over a threshold for refuge from the dust, glare, and chaos of the Kasbah. Immediately taking my overnight bag, their attention turned to relieving me of the burden my face and body still carried.
“Welcome. Please sit. Would you like some tea?”
Like Dorothy, swept into a black-and-white Kansas cyclone, then dropped into Technicolor Oz, I had been disoriented by a painful situation but, upon landing in a dream, became distracted from it by beauty. The terra cotta maze of the medina had morphed into a sanctuary of ruby, aqua, green, and gold.
Riad Hikaya Marrakesh
Riad Hikaya
I had read that everything I saw on walls and floors, sat on, sat under had been designed by Jane and John Pittaway, English owners of Riad Hikaya, and handcrafted by Marrakshi artisans. I spoke with John that afternoon who studied Arabic at University and also speaks French, Spanish, and the local Moroccan dialect, Darija. Though he has lived in many parts of the Middle East including Egypt, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates before moving to Marrakech, we discussed what makes this place unique…the creativity which brims here…. the tension of chaos and tranquility…the balm of beauty that banishes bad.
By dinner on the rooftop under a full moon, I was fully settled in the Rahma suite (Arabic word for compassion) — able to breathe; to let go; to accept, see and savor the gifts of kindness and peace around me. Not only had the girls turned back my bed, sprinkling rose petals on the duvet and in the tub…not only had Fadoua fed me fresh Tabouleh, the best Lamb CousCous I’ve had, and Celebration Orange and Chocolate Cake which, trust me, is reason alone to celebrate…but Sana, at my request, stopped serving and sat down for a chat over dessert.
The next morning the moon was gone. The sun met me on the rooftop instead. After breakfast and a read in the jacuzzi, I told the girls bye. I left again grateful for the kindness of strangers-now-friends. I remembered John’s words about a 2-year planned renovation that took five years instead. So true of life in many ways: “Anything is possible…It was an interesting journey..a way of learning.”
(from the website) Rahma, (Arabic for compassion), is situated on the first floor of the riad overlooking the smaller, mirrored courtyard.The traditional bed, fashioned from tadelakt and zelij, is framed by a hand-carved ‘muqarbas’, or bedhead, with an ornate zowwaq finish. Cactus silk curtains line the tadelakt walls and frame the artisanal, wooden shutters. Hand-painted plaster motifs, soft kelim armchairs and vintage Berber carpets complete the luxurious feel.
A stay at Riad Hikaya is a dream experience.
Like everything else at Riad Hikaya, the robes are custom-designed and made locally in Marrakesh.
Spa
Hand painted tadelakt bath and a monsoon shower crafted from zelij and maillechort, a metal favoured by Marrakshi artisans which in English is known as nickel silver
Rose petals in the sink and tub create an even more luxurious bath.
Rose petals on the bed make guests feel special.Couscous at Riad Hikaya is delicious.
Sana was a superior server.
Lighting, cacti garden, olive trees — perfect evening on rooftop under a full moon.
This delectable dessert… no words.
Pool by night
Roses fill the tub at Riad Hikaya
Laughing Without an Accent: Adventures of a Global Citizen by Firoozeh Dumas was a fun bedtime read.
Coffee in bed
Outside my room
Fresh roses are arranged daily at Riad Hikaya
Fresh fruit, pastries, and juice
A southern girl’s treat in Morocco — a huge breakfast omelet
A rooftop read in the whirlpool at Riad Hikaya
A thing of beauty is a joy forever;
Its loveliness increases…it still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.–John A “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” —Keats
What a difference a day makes. Thanks to Riad Hikaya for the stay. As always, the opinions here are my own.
All we know about the future is that it will be different… So we must celebrate the changes. Because, as someone once said, everything will be all right in the end. And if it’s not all right, then trust me, it’s not yet the end.
— Dame Judi Dench as Evelyn, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel
I’d said goodbyes. Hard ones. The kind that make you wonder why you started this journey in the first place.
One year ago I stepped into a Marrakech life. When I left in August of 2014 I was on overdrive; I couldn’t–wouldn’t–slow down to absorb painful goodbyes. Grief, of course, later hit full force, but I was blessed to be with my kids Christmas and again this summer, reminding me of a bond that isn’t daunted by 4,000 miles. We spent a perfect last day together before I flew back and they prepared to return to school. My son suggested Cummins Falls which Travel and Leisure named as one of America’s Best Swimming Holes. Its near his school, so after we ate at El Tapatio and stayed at his apartment.
Cummins Falls, TN
Photography by Cole McCain
The trek there is by river and very slippery. Getting there was a challenge since the sign said “Downriver Trail” and wound up and away from the hole before taking us down. Park rangers ran everyone out an hour before the park closed to give us time for the climb out.
We climbed to the falls–they went all the way up while I tried not to fall–then we jumped (ok, I slid) in and swam back. I’d forgotten how beautiful Tennessee Parks are. It was a day I’ll never forget.
I feel blessed to live in a town that tourists will return to in their minds when work and life gets stressful as their “Happy Place.” When I’m stressed by the “real world,” I go to Happy Places in Marrakech, too. Literally. And I look forward to finding more.
I’m so thankful for a year of adventure, beauty, and relationships in this new, exotic land. I came to write, teach, and learn. To find joy in the journey without and within. To grow stronger and lean heavier on God.
I knew when I cried every time I watched The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, I was meant to try life abroad. Likewise when I finally saw The Second Exotic Marigold Hotel this summer I wailed at the words: “You have no idea what you’ll become. Let go because that’s when the fun starts. There’s no present like the time.” The first four months I’ll never forget.
I will never let my children go. Or my mom or sister or anyone I love. I carry them in my heart, stay connected on Skype, will see them every chance I get and plan to live near them again. But with God’s help I am letting go of other things that hinder an abundant life…fear, worry, regret. The illusion and tyranny of control. Of having an exact idea of what my life should look like. Of having an opinion on what others’ lives should look like. Despite all the travel, I’m learning to be still and to be grateful for the past, the present, and the future–whatever it will be. Over the last year I’ve feathered my nest in Marrakech and look forward to all that Year Two holds.
My “Blanket Guy”–Mustapha Boukad of Chez Mustapha, 25, Rue dar el bacha, sidi abdelaziz, Marrakech Medina GSM: 062 29 82 41
Arabian Nights given to my dad by my grandmother, Mama Lou, who took me on my first journeys abroad via her rocking chair.
Mad for Marrakech style
Sahara green pottery, handmade chair, vintage Berber wedding quilt
From my amazing trip to Russia
Sometimes my Happy Place is a Marrakech riad, an Italian vineyard, or a Spanish beach. But after this summer I’m more likely to go here for escape… watching Jurassic World or Better Call Saul with Cole… watching Game of Thrones with Taylor… skating on river rocks with them both…laughing at dinner with my mom and a movie we sneaked off to see, then eating caramel and chocolate pies in her living room from The Woodshed…taking walks and rides with Ella… talking with my sister over coffee in her backyard…spending July 4th weekend with our families at the lake.
Mom and me at Logan’s
Jeff and Penny’s backyard–beautiful.
In The Alchemist Paulo Coelho says there are obstacles to fulfilling our personal calling, which he calls “the path that God chose for you here on Earth.” He says whenever we are filled with enthusiasm, we are on track, but many choose to never take that first step toward fulfilling their destiny. He says two obstacles are 1) “We are told from childhood onward that everything we want to do is impossible.” I can honestly say my mom has never told me any goal is unreachable. She has supported me throughout my life in every way possible. 2) “We know what we want to do, but are afraid of hurting those around us.” This has been my greatest fear. But I agree with the author: “We do not realize that love is a further impetus, not something that will prevent us going forward. We do not realize that those who genuinely wish us well want us to be happy and are prepared to accompany us on that journey.” My children, family and friends have supported me for which I am so grateful. Without the support of Taylor and Cole or my mom caring for Ella and encouraging me, I wouldn’t be here. It meant SO MUCH to me last year when they and my friend, Moni, came to visit. Having friends here helps, too. This week was the birthday of my friend, Kate. Her cake was amazing!
The author also says many never make a move (try on a dream) because they fear defeat. Fear of defeat hasn’t been an obstacle for me because if my family is ok, I’m ok. Also I remember God brought me here and enables me to do whatever I’m meant to do. I’m glad when we do fail or others fail us, God makes beauty of ashes.
Just before my first international school interview in Boston in 2014 (which was in the Caribbean, not the desert) I read this in Hosea: “I will allure her to the desert and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards and make the valley of trouble a door of hope. She’ll sing there as in her youth and as a young girl fresh from Egypt (captivity)…I’ll neither leave you or let you go. You’ll know me, God, for who I really am.” Happy Anniversary.
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After breakfast I went to play in the next door neighbor’s backyard–
