My Musings [and Muses]

Marrakech: and an expat tale without seat belts

I was having one of those conversations.  The kind that goes like this: Weren't you nervous about moving so far away? How could you just leave home like that?  Weren't you worried it would be dangerous?  And what about your children?  I mean, you're not even citizens there......And afterall, it's not exactly like you were moving to FRANCE or .... [insert somewhere "civilized"]. 

Oh, I've had these conversations before.  The kind where I know that the person is covertly thinking....That woman's a little, well ..... CRAZY.  And then they make a cuckoo finger twirling motion near their ear when I'm not looking. 

But here's the thing:  No I wasn't worried.  Because you can look at the world in two ways. A place where you should always wear your seat belt.  Or a place where you shouldn't always wear your seat belt.  You can worry about the What Ifs. Or you can say I can deal with the What Ifs.   Because when you travel off the beaten path, bad stuff will happen (and it might be bad stuff that you have never even heard of before).  But good stuff will happen, too (and it's often extra good stuff that you could have never imagined).  *You see it's a law of nature -- the universe rewards you when you are brave.*

And after a while you get good, really good, at not wearing your seat belt.  So good that you choose not only not to wear one, but to ride on the running board of the car.  *You see it's another law of nature -- when you stick your head out, the wind blows though your hair. *

1 
If you do, make sure to wave at everyone you pass by, even strangers.  They might think you're crazy.  But then again, maybe they'll wonder if they shouldn't just give it a whirl.

2 

Marrakech: and a tale of a Moroccan wine tasting at Peacock Pavilions

 oh, we were having a Moroccan wine tasting at Peacock Pavilions in Marrakech!

Talented Chantal whipped up some appetizers in the kitchen.  Goat cheese & homemade onion chutney.

WT 1

And then guacamole in shot glasses, served with Chantal's *famous* cheese straws. Yum.

 WT 2 
 and mini quiche wedges served on vintage metal etched Moroccan trays.  The bougainvillea straight from our garden.

WT 3 
And well, of course there was Moroccan wine.  Umm, plenty of it -- 9 different wines were being tasted!  We had covered up the essentials so no one would know what they were tasting!  We love secrets around here.

WT 4 
We set up in the outdoor tiled pool cabana at Peacock Pavilions. Expert wine explainer (and ahem, taster) Alex was all set to extoll the virtues of Moroccan wine.

 WT 5 

There was gazing, and swirling, and sniffing, and finally tasting.  There were even score cards to fill out so that you could remember all your favorites. 

WT PP 6

And later, all was revealed.... (oh so you loved the Moroccan wine, Eclipse?  Me, too. )

WT 7 
The sun had set by the time that the Moroccan wine tasting was over.  But in our tipsy state, there was still time for more 1 more glass!  

WT 8 
Coming to Marrakech? Peacock Pavilions does Moroccan wine tastings for parties of 10 or more, followed by dinner in our Moroccan embroidered dining tent.  Please write if you would like to inquire. (infoATpeacockpavilionsDOTcom)  It's a memorable evening:-)

PS Check out darling sponsor, the Soulbird blog -- she has a super cool tribal modern flair, with plenty of Moroccan mixed in. (Yowza!)

Marrakech, Morocco: and a tale that might make you smile

Oh, things might happen this week.  Annoying things.  Frustrating things. Things that might make you throw your hands up in the air, or shake your head, or mutter under your breath.

But when they do, try to remember that you {yes, you} are one of the lucky ones.  Really.  

Right?  Right. 

{Well, I'm glad we got that squared away.}

 Smile 2 

 Smile 4

Smile 5 

Smile 7
Smile 6 

Smile 8 

Smile 3 
 Some of my colleagues in the Morocco office.

PS  Thank you Tripbase for your Travel Photography award. So nice.  Right here.

PPS Brand new stock of gorgeous Moroccan Beni Ourain carpets and sequinned wedding blankets.  Too pretty not to take a peek.  Right here.

Marrakech, Morocco: and a tale of surfing in a landlocked city

When I was young (oh so many years ago) and just dating now husband Chris, he used to chase storms with his band of friends.  Someone would hear of a squall brewing somewhere and calls would be made.  Then surfboards would be loaded onto a dilapidated four-wheel drive vehicle, and they would head out.  The windows rolled down, the Beach Boys cranked up. 

I'm not sure that any of them were terribly good surfers.  But there was something about those waves and those winds that had enspelled them. 

But then there was me and adventures in far off lands.  And somehow those journeys brought us here to Marrakech, a city with no sea.  So now the only surfing my husband sees is on a screen in our Moroccan tent at Peacock Pavilions. 

Surf 3

 
Surf 6 
There remains a kind of longing in his eyes -- a sacrifice (one of many) that he has made for me.

Surf 4

Please, oh please, let's pretend that dessert ...

Surf 2

and tea....

Surf 7 
 makes it better...