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Transition day.
Nov. 13th, 2009 01:35 pmWell, we've just gotten back from our last official group shindig, and I am semi-officially On My Own. (The group is arranging to take me back to Casa tomorrow to the train station, which I will board for OMGMarrakech.) I plan on celebrating the On My Own-itude by ordering something foofy from the restaurant by the pool, maybe napping in the sun, and definitely sticking my feet in the ocean again. I keep idly contemplating the spa, but I think I'm holding out for a day at Les Bains de Marrakech.
This morning was pretty nifty - the tour of the Hassan II mosque in Casablanca. The first word that springs to mind is "big." The second is "ornate." I don't think there's a single unadorned inch in the entire place. (Third largest mosque in the world, largest minaret, built 3/4ths in the sea, etc etc etc.) We had an official tour guide, but I spent most of my time walking with the Dutch guy whose was born in Meknes. He'd been to the mosque many times as a worshiper, and his comments were way more interesting than the official spiel. I wore out my battery taking pictures; maybe this evening I'll get around to uploading.
Not too much else to report back. I said goodbye to several of the group who I'd gotten to know halfway well over the last few days, and I was very pleased to realize that I had several acquaintanceships conducted entirely in French. I have not spoken French this confidently nor this frequently in, I don't know. Ever? It's kind of awesome.
Tomorrow I will bid farewell to my workmates, who are headed back to Casa for a few days. (After our brief tour, I'm even gladder that I didn't make that my primary destination. Ooops.) I will bid a temporary farewell to the other woman from DC, but she and her mom will be in Marrakech my last night, and we've arranged to have dinner together. That's awfully pleasing.
Okay. Lunch, sun, nap. Go.
(Oh, and I did finish The Girl Who Played With Fire last night. I am so glad I have access to an international copy of the sequel. I don't know how you're supposed to wait another six months or so omg.)
(Oh x2, I also found out that the well-marinated, incredibly tender but slightly odd-textured chicken in this one cold salad we've been eating for the last four days is actually sheep brains. I'm debating whether or not to tell my workmates.)
This morning was pretty nifty - the tour of the Hassan II mosque in Casablanca. The first word that springs to mind is "big." The second is "ornate." I don't think there's a single unadorned inch in the entire place. (Third largest mosque in the world, largest minaret, built 3/4ths in the sea, etc etc etc.) We had an official tour guide, but I spent most of my time walking with the Dutch guy whose was born in Meknes. He'd been to the mosque many times as a worshiper, and his comments were way more interesting than the official spiel. I wore out my battery taking pictures; maybe this evening I'll get around to uploading.
Not too much else to report back. I said goodbye to several of the group who I'd gotten to know halfway well over the last few days, and I was very pleased to realize that I had several acquaintanceships conducted entirely in French. I have not spoken French this confidently nor this frequently in, I don't know. Ever? It's kind of awesome.
Tomorrow I will bid farewell to my workmates, who are headed back to Casa for a few days. (After our brief tour, I'm even gladder that I didn't make that my primary destination. Ooops.) I will bid a temporary farewell to the other woman from DC, but she and her mom will be in Marrakech my last night, and we've arranged to have dinner together. That's awfully pleasing.
Okay. Lunch, sun, nap. Go.
(Oh, and I did finish The Girl Who Played With Fire last night. I am so glad I have access to an international copy of the sequel. I don't know how you're supposed to wait another six months or so omg.)
(Oh x2, I also found out that the well-marinated, incredibly tender but slightly odd-textured chicken in this one cold salad we've been eating for the last four days is actually sheep brains. I'm debating whether or not to tell my workmates.)