I can’t believe I’ve been back home for OVER A MONTH.
It’s truly mind-boggling how quickly time evaporates after you’ve done a trip. It’s as if time slowed down just enough for me to take things in … and then boing! out of the wormhole I was flung.
(And, in what’s quickly becoming a routine in my travels, my backpack – lost in the fray – was spat out a day later.)
Now Morocco seems to be all but gone from my immediate memory, save for my photos. (It’s the only reason it’s taken me so long to churn out the last few entries. Apologies.)
I remember within days of being back, friends were already asking me questions, like, “What was the highlight of your trip?” and “Where’s your next trip going to be?”
Highlight? I didn’t have a single highlight. I had a bunch of them.
Like the madness of crossing the streets in Meknes and Marrakech.
The tour through Fez.
The trek through the desert and peering up at the night sky, sitting on the sand.
The crispness of the mountain air.
The colours. The sounds. The smells.
I like having all the little memories. It’s as if, deep in the recesses in my mind, I have this tiny compartment with my memories pieced together like mosaic tiles, and safely tucked away, covered in cerebral bubble wrap.
And where am I planning to go to next, you ask?
As much as I’d like to start researching that five-week trip to Southeast Asia, I can’t really think about that right now. For starters, I’ve barely finished paying off for this trip.
And if I were to, say, acquire some real estate this year, there’s no way I’d be able to travel. Unless I suddenly fell into money. Or on top of a rich boyfriend.
Besides, I’d still like to have a little more time to lovingly gaze at my pictures.
But it was so nice to have the chance to travel somewhere, and plan it in advance. And I’d gladly recommend this country to anyone who asks. It’s truly a place to visit at least once.
Okay, enough. Onward with life, yes?