Istanbul is incredible. After the performance of the Whirling Dervishes we wandered down to the Galata Bridge and decided to eat some fish while sitting on the water.
The touts were the most aggressive we met in Turkey though the location was romantic and beautiful. The food? Well, it was really crap and perhaps made us both sick. I recommend you go down there, have some tea or a cocktail and then go get your food somewhere else.

The prices were also the highest we paid in Turkey. Again though, the ambiance and location were superb.

The next day we wandered around and bought souvenirs for Hanane’s family.

I don’t really do souvenirs except for the kind I find for free lying on the side of the road or those of necessity (like my souvenir shoes when my old souvenir shoes get worn out from all the walking) but for Hanane it was essential.

And then it was to the airport for our return flight to Morocco.
A funny thing happened on the return flight. I’d warned Hanane that airport security in Turkey wouldn’t be as lax as that in Morocco. She’d bought some bottles of shampoo, so I insisted that she check her bag so they wouldn’t get thrown out. High end shampoos, creams, and lotions are very high end in Morocco. So, we went through security at the gate and then the other Moroccans started to come through. There must have been $1000 worth of shampoos, lotions, and creams which were thrown in the garbage because they were in big bottles in carry on luggage. The signs were posted everywhere in Arabic as well as in English and Turkish. That’s not the funny part though, that’s slightly tragic watching as Moroccan women are forced to throw out all their beauty products and families have to throw out the yogurts, waters, and other foods they were bringing for the flight. The funny part was the reaction of the Moroccans. They were livid. The airport security had to deal with increasingly pissed off Moroccan women yelling at them, a father with a bunch of food he was being forced to throw away invited other passengers to help his family consume it, and women kept going to the garbage and making efforts to steal their products back when the security weren’t looking which forced them to move the garbage bin. It was one of the oddest real life dramas I’ve ever witnessed.

The flight was uneventful, the train back to Fes from Casa was uneventful, and the arrival back in our apartment was also uneventful.
We spent a couple of days just enjoying our space while we had it and then Hanane made a bee line for her folks place in Sefrou. Usually, when I move, I get rid of everything by selling it or putting it on the street, but this time, that wasn’t really an option. All of our stuff had to be trucked up to the in-laws place in Sefrou. I’ve furnished a good portion of their house at this point!
Ramadan began and we arranged a moving van, I packed everything up, and then we cleaned the apartment and paid our outstanding bills to the landlord.

After that we spent a few days at the in-laws place where we fell into the fasting routine of wake up at 3 AM, eat, go to sleep, wake up and work, sleep, eat at 7 PM, go to sleep, wake up at 3 AM….but I’ve already written about that.
Now, it’s almost 5 AM and while this won’t be posted for more than a week, I will be leaving Sefrou, Fes, Morocco, and all I’ve found here behind in about an hour. Even my wife won’t be coming with me as I return to Turkey to start yet another new life in yet another new country.
She’ll be joining me in about a month after Ramadan is through and when I’ve made certain that things are going to work for us in Turkey. I’ve already bought her tickets, but I’m a little worried as it will be the first time she is doing any bigger travel than a train or bus trip on her own. She’ll do okay though, she’s already been through Vago 101.
I leave Morocco with the two bags I arrived with. Of course, there are a few things that we are leaving at the in-laws house that we would like to have in a home someday if we ever have one. Also I am leaving my guitar and violin #2 here for the moment. The harmonica comes with me though.
I’m filled with a mixture of excitement, elation, sadness, relief, and weariness. I’ll write more about Morocco in the near future though. For now, suffice to say Veni Vidi Vici.