Don’t ask me why these birds were in these cages out the back of a coffee shop. I don’t think they ate them.
Goats are no longer allowed to climb these argan trees But I saw them trying…..
This was an argan oil ‘factory’. The seeds are brought to these 8 women who proceed to the place the shells on a large rock and smash them with a small rock. If the seeds are for edible oil, it is roasted in the fire in a hole in the wall. The hard shells are used as kindling to make the fire. Then one lady grinds the roasted shells in two round rocks. She gives it to another woman who mixes it in a stainless steel bowl with her hands. And then we are expected to BUY this stuff! No thank you. I like a pristeen clean automated factory, thank you very much. If the seeds are used for cosmetics, they are not roasted.
The terrible sound is a greeting. They quickly wave their tongue back and forth and holler.
Click.
She is grinding the seeds into peanut butter-type paste.
CLICK.
Took an additional 11-hour tour to Essaouira. It was a 3-hour ride each way. We saw the Atlantic Ocean, fishermen and another large market. But I’m not sure it was worth the time nor money. I did get my fabric for making a purse and had a great lunch. I didn’t need a trip to the jewelry store. No one bought nothin’.
Another walled fortress. Hundreds!!! of fishing boats. They were all docked because of the wind that day. These are called sabre fish. Good eating, I’m told.
The waves were crazy!!
CLICK.
The meal was delicious. It’s didn’t involve cooked vegetables or a tagine. It was a shrimp pasta in oil. Everyone laughed a the size of the shrimp, but it tasted great.
Jewelry shop. this man is putting ceramic on to silver jewelry. It was beautiful and too expensive.
This was our dinner two nights. Crackers/pretzels, chocolate bar, cookies leftover from New Zealand (Jane froze them at her house and then brought them) and peanut butter. I was a happy camper. — I was in my hotel-provided robe.
Sample of our breakfast. I ate olives at every meal, along with hummus.
Starbucks are everywhere!
Arriving in Casablanca.
Largest cathedral in Morocco. With 99% muslims in the country, there weren’t many churches.
I lit a candle in memory of my gramma who did so every Saturday. Tim did too. His blew out in the wind, but when we looked back IT WAS BURNING AGAIN!! Miracle?
Birds everywhere. This is where the second theatre was built, designed by the famous female architect, Zaha Hadid.
Visited a big mall — mostly to waste time before the hotel room were ready. I don’t like eating at chain restaurants, but I was so happy to eat a meal I knew was going to be good — and for cheap.
More Atlantic Ocean. A far cry from the same Ocean in Daytona Beach, just across the pond.
This is the Hassan II Mosque. It was recently built in five years; but over budget, of course. It was Ramadan and there was no way we were getting inside, as non-Muslims. My dad has been inside and was so impressed it is the second largest functioning mosque in Africa.
Prayer time. They pray anywhere when it’ time.
This was the mosque museum.
That famous movie!
Look at the true traffic jam. No one was goin’ nowhere. And look at the line of people at the taxi stand. The tram shut down due to technical difficulties and everyone left the tram and headed to the taxis. We all had to get off the bus and walk a couple blocks to our hotel. Luckily, traffic cleared and they brought our suitcases soon thereafter.
FINALLY, plenty of light and plenty of plug-ins.
This is a nice presentaion of calamari. It wasn’t mine, thank goodness. I had shrimp ravioli and it was delicious.
Our final selfie in the airport that we sent off to Tim who was on his way to Orlando via Detroit.
I always buy more stuff if I’m traveling with women. A pashmina, coffee mug, tiny shoe, rose oil aroma therapy, rose lip balm, the fossel shell, a jellaba dress, chocolate, fabric for purse and that painting. The yellow coin purse shaped like a shoe was a gift thhe first day from Cho-kee — to keep 1 Dirham coins to pay the toilet attendant.
It was a great trip without any death defying stunts (such as the mountain bike ride in New Zealand). Just today I noticed a hole at the knee of a pair of leggings and realized it happened during our NZ mountain bike ride, and I got PTSD all over again!
No snow storms on the way home, with smooth flights. (The plane did not tip upside down as one had done so in Toronto prior to me leaving for the trip.)
If you’d like to leave a message, I’m the only one who will read them.
HAPPY TRAVELS!
Linda Jeanne