Craig got home on Friday after working in Cameroon for two weeks. Saturday morning we left with our traveling companions the Greens and headed out on the 5 hour drive south to the beach town of Essaouira for a long weekend. Sun, surf and relaxation would soon be ours. On the long drive I commented to Craig about how lax I've become in travel preparations. Luckily, my haphazard ways have only resulted in miniature disasters and minor catastrophes. I borrowed that phrase from a KT Tunstall song. She does go on to say these things bring her to her knees. Which may, in fact, explain the bruises on my knees.
As we get close to our destination we see the famed Moroccan goats in the argan trees. They say they climb the trees to eat the fruit, but I think they're wrong. I think they're actually little slaves tied to the trees by their masters who make their living off of selling photo opportunities of crazy goats who climb trees to crazy tourists who take buy them. They are celebrities though. I do feel bad for the ones scared of heights that are going to require therapy though. But then again don't all celebrities need therapy?
We drive into town, past the churning ocean and head to the medina where our apartments are. Or where they're supposed to be. The apartments are there. But the reservations I made aren't. Because I forgot to actually confirm the reservation. Not only for us, but also for the Greens. And the rooms we chose were occupied. Dooohhh! Thankfully they have others but they are no where near the beach. With that, we’re banished to the outskirts of town.
The next morning we're up early. Not because we want to be, but because our kids don't sleep in. Ever. The Greens do. So we head to the beach solo. It looks ominous as we arrive and then starts to pour rain. Somehow I pictured this wet and wild beach weekend with friends differently in the fantasy version in my head. You know, the one where I actually made the reservations. And my husband wasn’t leaving to back to work on the train that night to Rabat.
Rainy days and Mondays always get me down. (That Carpenters reference is dedicated to my friend Jenny.)
Can this beach get away be saved?