Morocco

Colors, patterns, spices, visual overload, humanity, that is Morocco

One of many beautiful artifacts collected by Maryam for her "Peacock Pavilions"  Riad in Marrakech, Morocco

Peacock Pavilions, a boutique guesthouse, a  peaceful oasis, just outside of Marrakech

One of the Peacock Pavilions'  bedroom walls, stenciled by "Royal Design Studio"

The Medina

Take time to have a fabulous lunch at the "Hotel Restaurant French" You will find it at one of the corners of the Djemaa el Fna.

On the way to the High Atlas Mountains, on the outskirts of a small village, a market day was in full swing.

Put on your glad rags and have lunch at the La Mamounia

After a 3 year renovation, the legendary Hotel La Mamounia has reopened.  It was completely redesigned by Jaques Garcia.  We stayed at the Mamounia 25 years ago.  I liked it better then.  It had more charm.   So much marble this time and so dark. 

I kept falling off and on to the thick carpets.  I did like the six handsome young men, dressed in all white flowing robes, opening doors for me every time I approached.

Next stop Paris

Gina

Too much to do

Another year and another Artist Studio Tour, the charolais bull is in the pasture

My kiln is working overtime and so am I

Pottawotomie plums are the first plums of the year.  They make great pancake syrup

There are flowers to dry for Potpourri, hollyhocks are delicate and roses are the easiest to dry

Peppers are growing fast and so are the cucumbers, must have some for the winter months

Canning for the sweet tooth, peaches are next

There should always be time for a glass of wine.

Soon I must take time and see what I need to pack in my little roller suitcase.  22 pounds of luggage has served me well in the past.

I don't know if that will be enough for Paris and Marrakech.

Gina

On the road to Marrakech

North Africa

On the road from Fez to Marrakech. Nothing but sand and the occasional Oasis in the distance

A few camels on the horizon

Now and then Life out of nowhere, by a water well. And then nothing for a long while and then all of a sudden color, lots and lots of it.

On either side of the road a fantastic scene repeated over and over. Riders on Arabian horses. Diaphanous material of azure blue, citrine yellow, emerald green, iridescent studded jewels and gems, and kohl black eyes.

Astride, on the first Arabian horse a most beautiful woman sitting in front of a handsome Rider. The next woman on a horse, by herself, also beautiful, the next and then the next, a little older a little less beautiful and then a woman dressed in black on a donkey.


Where were they all going? A fantastic scene. And I couldn't take pictures. I was warned not to take pictures of women in North Africa. But never mind, the picture is still vivid in my mind and I am going back to Marrakech in September.



And then outside of a small village a huge gathering. It was market day. That is where everyone was going; to the weekly Market.

Every animal imaginable was being traded or sold.

But where are the beautiful women we just passed? There must be more. Is this their day to spend time with their women friends to gossip and renew friendships? Are they kept hidden?

A very brisk trade of Arabian Horses was in progress. I was the only woman in the area. Maybe I should not have been there!




And there was a particular horse, this one. You could hear the exitement when the rider brought it into the open market. Loud shouting, frantic bidding, secret hand movements and the stallion was sold.



I didn't partake. Purchased nothing that was alive. Was content with less moveable objects.

Will be having a new experience in Marrakech, staying at the newly opened Peacock Pavilions.


Gina