A couple of months ago, in anticipation of graduating from PA school, Hannah asked if we could go on a trip together to celebrate. Her initial ask of New Zealand didn't feel right with John not being able to come with us for the necessary two-week stay (and it certainly wouldn't have felt right on my legs after 24 hours of sitting in an airplane!). I wondered if we could find somewhere else to go.
Years ago, pre-Blogger years, I went on a National Geographic Expedition with my mom from Seattle Washington to Juneau, Alaska. Two weeks of living on the sea. It was a life-changing trip, and because of those memories, I've kept the catalog from NatGeo being delivered to my home twice a year. A girl can dream! Well, with the price of airline tickets to New Zealand sitting around $2,000 each, I had a few options ;-)
The very cheapest trip listed was to Morocco, and it was called "Journeys: Morocco Highlights". Sitting in our family room, I read off the itinerary, and the activities, and it didn't take Hannah even a minute to agree. On paper, it sounded amazing (Berber herbalists, Gnaoua musicians, snow-covered mountains AND the Sahara desert), and the pictures of the camels in the headlining banner didn't hurt either. I was thankful that it would only be the regular 6-hour jet lag to Europe (nothing that one Ambien couldn't cure), and the price was very reasonable. I went to make all of the reservations, but I had one question:
Should John come?
We all love John, but he definitely doesn't make the easiest travel buddy. We worried that his actions and choices might have a significant impact on our enjoyment of the trip. Could he show up on time for the bus? Could he manage his jet lag and not become an inconsolable beast? Could he let go of the stresses at home and really sink into the experience? Johannah felt that we should invite him seeing as he was such a huge support to her during the almost three years in PA school. As a result, I spoke to him about what we were hoping he would change, and while he didn't take the criticism well, he promised that he would be "fine".
Glo ended up deciding to come as well which not only made us happy but lowered the price of Hannah's single occupancy reservation ;-) Glo was so good--she had paid us back for the entire trip before we even packed a bag. All those days of substitute teaching definitely paid off!
As the trip neared, I felt some hesitancy. Going to Africa? A bit scary. Heading to a country that speaks Arabic? A bit unsettling. Food I've never tried that I will need to eat for ten days? I packed the Pepto-Bismol.
Three days before we were set to leave, we were talking about some details of the trip, and John realized that he hadn't taken the right days off. Strike One. He had to make all kinds of accommodations to get his shifts at work covered which meant that he would leave for work on Tuesday, and we wouldn't see him until he arrived at the airport on Thursday. Oh, and would I pack his bag for him? Strike Two.
We didn't know what we would actually need on the packing list (a travel towel?), but we brought it all. We fit everything into our own carry-on bags which is dang impressive. I even found all of my Dri-Silque garments which when rolled tightly, fit into a gallon-sized Ziploc bag. Yep, ten pairs in a Ziploc. We also decided to bring a large checked bag for souvenirs. I worried because we were told to bring everything in a duffel bag, and here we were bringing actual suitcases PLUS a giant (but empty) checked bag. I shouldn't have worried ;-)
I made arrangements for Mr. Knapp to take us to the airport, but because of John's lack of planning, he would need to be picked up later. It felt surreal to tell the airport attendant that we were going to CASABLANCA. She asked where "Mr. John" was, and we told her that he would be coming at some point. She looked at us with a worried face and told us to tell him to come straight to her desk because he was cutting it close. YOU DON'T NEED TO TELL US THAT.
Two minutes before our plane to Paris started boarding, he showed up. He hadn't read my texts to go to her desk. But you know what? We got on that Delta flight, and we were off!
We were all dreading Charles de Gaulle airport because none of us has had a good experience with it, but maybe the fact that the Olympics were held in Paris last year upped the airport game. The airport was organized and clean and our checked bag made it on our second flight. It didn't hurt that due to turbulence on our first flight, a meal cart had tipped over which meant we didn't get food on the flight but we got vouchers for free food in the airport. We used those vouchers and bought croissants for DAYS ;-)
When we arrived in Casablanca, we just stayed calm and found the baggage claim, grabbed our checked bag, and headed out to find our transfer car. John made the comment that it didn't look much different from Dearborn ;-)
One of the best things about the entire trip was that we never needed to think about anything. People picking us up from the airport. Hotel reservations. Restaurant choices. Time tables. It was all done for us, and we just focused on the experience itself. And to be honest, it made all the difference.
We had decided to arrive a day early in case we were having any issues with delayed flights. I was more than happy to stay in the hotel room because I was basically scared out of my mind to head out into Casablanca, but John went running and told us that we needed to head out to dinner. I checked TripAdvisor, and there was a highly recommended restaurant just around the corner. From everything we had read, chicken tagine is the traditional Moroccan food, and we were there for it!
We walked into the restaurant, and it reminded me of Alhambra in Grenada, Spain. I had read that Moroccans are some of the nicest and happiest people on earth, and that review wasn't wrong. Aziz, the owner, made us feel like royalty. He helped us pick all of our food...and then the women appeared, bringing it all to us. Yes, gender stereotypes still exist in Morocco.
It was a great foray into our first Morocco meal. When the women brought out little trays of different little things, we realized that a "salad" was something completely different, and yet completely delicious. We also discovered that pretty much every food stuff in Morocco is sweet. Only a couple of times did we ever taste anything salty or savory.
The next day
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