Road-Trip: Part I

The next phase of my summer vacation was a road-trip to Marrakech and Essaouira! Our family road-trips, happily, have always been fantastic, and I was ecstatic. We began a little after dawn, piling into our rental (only the first!) with all our luggage, sleepiness, and muted excitement to crowd us.  We first went to exchange our rental with a larger van at the near-by airport.

 Our anxiousness to get on the road was palpable. My siblings and I were a mix of chirpy obnoxiousness and sleepy irritation. The sun was warm and adventure was waiting for us. Our first order of business, after the car, was fuel: for us and the vehicle.

Gas stations in Morocco always promise an interesting sight. I remember seeing a motorcycle with a chainsaw attached to the back of the seat, and a truck teetering with blue fuel tanks and a goat. After a wrong start (we went down the wrong side of the highway, this happens in every one of our road-trips) a quick U-turn had us driving towards breakfast.

The little breakfast place was, in a word, disarmingly charming. It sprang out of nowhere, surrounded by flat brownness, a little oasis of vibrant grass and sweet lavender. 

There we had a traditional Moroccan breakfast of eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice, freshly baked bread, olives, and olive oil.

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And then, finally, we were off! Morocco unfolded before us like a book, dipping into sudden valleys, arching into sweetly rolling hills, and weaving into jagged cliff-sides while the road was a winding ribbon before us. We took our time, stopping anywhere that the view was particularly magnificent, napping or chatting or laughing as the hours rolled on, as the sun swam languidly across the blue sky, as Bob Marley sang from the tiny iPad speakers, and as we sang along with him. 

​And slowly but surely, the land was falling away, and we were driving into the mountains...