Of all the gin joints in all the world, flight and arrival in Morocco Monday 28/04/25

The Windmill, a Wetherspoons pub at Stansted Airport. Even at 4.30 in the morning, the place was doing a roaring trade and seats weren't easy to find. 

Ordering the mobility assistance for Helen proved to have been an excellent idea. We were given a wheelchair and told to follow the purple line. This took us straight to the front of the passport and security queues. Help arrived to get Helen onto the apron from whence she could climb the steps into the plane. 

Now this is how to fly, you have to fly economy. As you can see Marrakesk wasn't the most popular destination for folk at 7.55 on a Monday morning. The result was we had a very comfortable and well attended flight. 

The Mediterranean coast of Spain 

Followed,  of course by the North coast of Morocco 

 

Finally some north African desert. 

We met up with our taxi driver who we understood was to take us to our Riad. However when we got out, our cases were loaded into a handcart and we walked through the narrow, crowded lanes to the Riad. Apparently four wheeled vehicles are not allowed at peak times. Two wheeled vehicles are, however more than welcome and continually swoop up and down the lanes like bees entering and leaving a hive.

Riads are traditional houses built by the better off merchants and now often used for accommodation of tourists. They are built around an internal courtyard, often featuring a garden with fountains or a pool. The outside walls are solid and for reasons of security and privacy. All the rooms face into the courtyard. Have a look at some shots of our place. For traditional also read slightly scruffy and doesn't quite work. 

Our courtyard with it's pool. Water and the movement of it plays a central role in Islamic architecture along with pierced screens, which whilst light and airy also offer a slightly seductive privacy. 

Looking from the roof garden down into the courtyard. 

Our place in the sun.

Looking from our bedroom/livingroom  through to our toilet and shower room. Note the pierced decoration.

In the central part of the Riad there is a desk with the visitors books and a pictorial record of the restoration of the building. You can also see a portrait of King Mohammed

VI, and  just in front of this you may recognise the slate calling card with the word "welcome" in Welsh! Not my gesture I hasten to say, but some previous guest from Pay de Galles.

Meet the permanent resident. Like the Major in Fawlty Towers, he was ancient and amiable, but did have the habit of coming to greet by tapping his mouth against your toes. 

We were never given a front door key, but instead relied upon our host responding to our knocking on the ancient front door.