The house is cold. The furnace died again last night. This time it feels ominous. I could have had an emergency visit last night but chose to wait for a regular appointment to save money. I do have one electric heater and have put it here in the den. The dogs are asleep on the couch beside me. Jack is in his house upstairs and is also sleeping. I’m wearing a sweatshirt under fleece and socks under muk-luks. Our appointment isn’t until tomorrow.

The morning is cloudy. Rain is predicted. It is now 48° but it will get a bit warmer. I’m hoping for 80’s, as if….

I always knew I’d travel. I made that vow to myself when I was a kid. I had no places in mind. I  just wanted to go somewhere. Canada was my first foreign country, but it didn’t seem foreign. Everybody spoke English. Both sides of Niagara Falls looked the same, but I still counted it as country number one. It wouldn’t be until years later that I added to my list. Country number two was Ghana. I had read about Ghana before I went, but when I arrived, Ghana was so much more, a place filled with different sounds and colors, strange foods and sights, sights I had never imagined. Over time Ghana became familiar but never common. 

I traveled by myself to Morocco. My first view of the city was from my calèche, a horse drawn carriage, I had chosen to take one at the airport instead of a car to take me into the city, into  Marrakech. The air seemed to be filled with the aroma of spices. The buildings were red from red sandstone. I was so excited to be there I even waved at people as we passed their carriages. We got to the main square, the Jemaa el-Fna. From there I had to walk to my riad, a small hotel once a house, in the old section of the city. I memorized how to get to my riad, how to get there by navigating the small, narrow turns. Most days I wandered all over the city. I walked through the maze of the Medina. I followed a small boy to a restaurant at the back of a furniture store. I saw sheep heads being baked in large, tall round ovens. I didn’t stop to try any meat. I stopped at souks to look and to shop. The spice souks were amazing with mounds of colored spices on tables in front and on shelves lining the walls. Every afternoon I stopped at the same cafe for coffee, a cup or two. I ate at night in the square. I watched the dancers. I bought dessert at kiosks and ate it as walked to my riad. Marrakech was different. I loved it for all those differences.

I have no plans for today. I’ll just bundle and try to stay warm.

This entry was posted on April 3, 2025 at 12:13 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. Both comments and pings are currently closed.