A Moroccan dream

I want to share my travels from Marrakesh, Morocco, a place that is dear to my memories. Its landscape is of rugged mountains and red earth. The desert is far and covered with a mirage of palm trees. Its coast is wind swept from the Atlantic and on the other side there is the Mediterranean - still and a light blue. It is apart of the Western Kingdom in North Africa and its people have witnessed centuries of Spanish and French rule until Morocco gained its independence in 1956.

Its history is influenced by many cultures in particular by the Berber dynasties from the 11th century. Today one can witness this mélange of cultures whether it’s a mix of speaking French and Arabic while exploring the myriad of street bazaars, or tasting an array of tagines from the fast paced kitchens that exist throughout the streets of Casablanca, Tangier or Marrakesh. 

The extreme heat of the desert is in contrast to the snow-covered Atlas Mountains not far from Marrakesh. This is where my journey took me to celebrate my dear friend Francesco Carrozzinis birthday, to the red city of Marrakesh, “the land of God”, where a honeycomb of intricately connected alleyways led to an oasis of hidden riads decorated with the most intricate mosaics and wedding blankets. The smell of leather and argan oil scents the air, whilst combing the traditional Berber market for bejeweled wedding blankets or scented rose candles.

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