|Article Title: once in a while...|
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For some weeks I felt that it was time to go. I didn’t know where, but I had to go. I can smell these moments coming from miles away, sometimes they just get me. So that evening I started looking on the web. I was lucky! I had been to Morocco before and the prices I saw on the screen were very attractive. I really love Morocco! The people, the smells, the colours,… and most of all the possibilities it gives to your imagination, allowing it to run wild. So there it was done, a quick call to my boss and friend, a couple of clicks on the right internet pages and my plans were secure. One week later I landed in Morocco, Agadir to be precise. I had no intention on staying there too long, as I knew Agadir from before, and took the first bus to Marrakesh. My excitement grew every kilometre we got closer, and the loud pair of hens on the seat next to me couldn’t spoil it at all for me. On the contrary, they even made it more fun! When we were passing through the hills on the dusty roads I felt like a kalif myself. Although a lot of people assume that Morocco is just a dry, desert like landscape with some hills and mountains on it, I have to disagree. Morocco has a lot of green sides and reflecting on the multicoloured mountains and it can make some of the most beautiful sceneries you can imagine. After a wonderful though bumpy bus ride we finally arrived in Marrakesh: the city of magic and storytellers. So they say! The most famous ‘Koutabia’ minaret was already dominating the skyline and I headed in its direction. With its 70 metres it’s a most impressive thing you know! From there on I was drawn to the souqs. On the ‘Djemma’ square all kinds off magicians gathered to sell there lotions, musicians, with or without snakes, played their lungs out and storytellers amazed the people with there incredible stories, acrobats were wildly jumping around and water escaped my mouth when I smelled the various dishes prepared in food stalls all around. All of a sudden one of the spectators took my arm and asked if I needed a tour through the medina, he didn’t wanted to take no for an answer so I tried to walk away. Despite all my efforts he kept following me, by that time I not only had to consider him but also the four beggars who were clutching on to me. This city was a little too vibrant for me! I fled into a nearby café and followed the signs to the upstairs terrace. From here I could finally see the beauty of Marrakesh; it was a huge city, everybody was running around like ants to make a living: locals were clenching people to take photographs of them with a chained monkey on their shoulder, touts were stopping people, wanting to be their guides and fill their baskets, people were begging for money, more locals were grabbing more people to take more photographs, with snakes that time,… the list was endless. I decided I couldn’t stay there any longer! I had wanted to get away to get some peace and quiet, not to be ran over by everybody! I sat down and took a sip of the mint tea I had ordered. Mmm, delicious. This was why I wanted to come here! I opened my guide book and tried to find a place that looked as nice as Marrakesh but was less hectic. A man next to me saw me searching and decided to tap on my shoulder. “Are you looking for some place nice?” he asked me in perfect French. Luckily I can speak fluent French. “Well, something nice but quiet.” I replied. He bowed his head towards me as if he were a conspirator: “you should go to Essaouira, it’s a nice, little village by the shore!” he told me. “How?” I asked him. Not at all understanding what the name of the village was. “Essaouira! It is beautiful and quiet, with lot of hippies like you.” And he gave me an understanding smile. “And how do I get there then?” (To be honest, he awoke my curiosity). “You just take the local bus from here, it’s very cheap!” I paid the man a coffee and thanked him for his idea. As I walked back that evening to my hotel I decided that I was going to give it a try. So the next morning, after an exquisite breakfast with the best orange juice I had ever tasted, I set of for Essaouirra...