I just want your extra time and your kiss...

That's all I need. 

Nothing compares to you

This morning I heard this song on the radio and I realized I remembered every line of it. I cranked up the volume and sang along. It brought me back in time, back to my years in college and an afterschool party with a boyfriend I met that particular night..

It's been seven hours and fifteen days

Since you took your love away

I go out every night and sleep all day

Since you took your love away

Since you've been gone I can do whatever I want

I can see whomever I choose

I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant

But nothing..

I said nothing can take away these blues

'Cause nothing compares

Nothing compares to you..

It's been so lonely without you here

Like a bird without a song

Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling

Tell me baby, where did I go wrong?

I could put my arms around every boy I see

They'd only remind me of you

I went to the doctor and guess what he told me?

Guess what he told me?

He said: Girl you'd better try to have fun

No matter what you do

But he's a fool

'Cause nothing compares to you..

All the flowers that you planted, mama

in the back yard

All died when you went away

I know that living with you baby was sometimes hard

But I'm willing to give it another try

Nothing compares to you...

I am accountable for this

That's what the neighbor's wife told me yesterday: "I'm accountable for my husband's diabetes... because I'm the one who feeds him. I gave him too many sugary desserts.. I'm so sorry I did."

He had his blood work checked a month ago. I had asked him to do so nearly one year ago. Since there are many T2 diabetics in his family and he has quite a bit of belly fat, I thought it wouldn't be bad for him to have a check-up. So he finally did. His wife told me: he has "the sugar", but not dramatically. Just a little bit.. Can you see my eyes roll? Here we go again... I asked her about her pregnancies in the past. If she were pregnant, or just a little bit pregnant. She got the message.
His fasting BG was 197 mg/dl. Meaning he's a diabetic. He doesn't have "a bit of sugar". He's a diabetic. It won't go away. She had her blood work tested as well, while they were at the doctor's office together. Her fasting BG was 100 mg/dl, two times in a row. There was an * in front of that number and she asked me what that meant. It means that she's a prediabetic. Meaning she will develop T2 diabetes over time. That surprised her, because her GP had not said anything about it.

At that time, my neighbor joined the conversation. He said he had stopped eating candy, for that candy had caused his diabetes. I told him it was not his fault. Eating candy does not cause diabetes. It will elevate your BG if you're already a diabetic and don't treat yourself well. But it does NOT cause diabetes.

I have a spare glucometer that I'm testing out for Accu-Chek. With little explanation, they can now test his BG one day a week, on 4 different times: before breakfast, before lunch, before diner and before bed. That will give his GP a better look on how his meds are affecting his diabetes. My neighbor believes taking that one pill a day will solve his problem. It's a lot more than that. It's a beginning though. Too bad his GP didn't give him any more information. I think I'll pay the neighbors another visit today and tell them a bit more about carbohydrates and BG numbers..

Don't know what to do

This is real hard. Normally I have a solution for any problem. This time it's different. I'm not that familiar with the subject and I have this feeling I have to leave it up to professionals. It was good though, to talk about it with a friend who has had the same problems. She comforted me and told me it would take time, but things would turn out well in the end. At least, that is the feeling she gave me. I wish things were different and less hard for you. It makes my stomach ache when I look at you and see your grief, without being able to help you. I can't get through to you and we don't find a way to talk about it. If only you could break down the wall you have put up around you. It would make things a bit easier and you would benefit from it too. Don't think you have to go through this all by yourself. There are people around you who really care and who love you for who you are. Let me give you a hug, more than one if that's what you're looking for. Because I care. Because we care.

Packing

Last night, you were stressing out. Packing your suitcase to go to Poland, you were deciding what to wear, which shoes you should bring along. Were you allowed to bring a razor blade if you had nothing else but carry on luggage? How about shaving foam?

You don't like to travel alone. It makes you as nervous as a schoolkid on a field trip. The palms of your hands were all sweaty and you were running around like a chicken. Only 2 days, but still stressed out. Two colleagues are joining you and I'm sure you will do well. No need to worry. I wish I could have come along too. I wouldn't mind visiting Warschau. Sounds exciting to me. Don't forget to tell me all about your trip. Looking forward to the stories! Have a safe journey, hubby.

Move closer

Arthur was here first. He came to live with us some 9 years ago. We all know cats are the king of the household. Arthur doesn't know any better. He's the King and he wants to be treated as the King..
Somewhere along the line, Rebba came to live with us. Arthur was not impressed, not by far. He meowed and disapproved most every day. He didn't even want to look at her. Rebba, on the other hand, was very nice to him. Although whippets despise cats, she didn't mind to live together with Arthur in the same house. If he would come inside after a walk in the rain, she wanted to use her tongue to dry his fur. To thank her for helping him, Arthur would slap her..

I think Arthur got depressed the day Inthe came to join us. He must have thought: what the f***? He had no intention whatsoever to become friends with neither one. Inthe wanted to play hide and seek with her furry mate, but he didn't even give her one moment of attention.

All three have a bed of their own. Arthur has a high bed, where he can oversee the room. A little cat sneeze is enough to make the whippets hop out of their beds and see if he's okay. They try to comfort him when he's feeling sick to his stomach or when he accidentally falls of the window sill while sleeping. It's no use: Arthur is not whippet-friendly.

To our surprise, Arthur has become milder lately. He even relaxes on the couch, close to where the whippets are cuddling up together. This morning, all three of them were sleeping on the couch, very very close to one another. Maybe, just maybe, Arthur will chill and accept the dogs. He has had 4 years to adapt to them after all. 

Stoopid!!

BG 45 and 6 units of insulin active in your body..

That's what my meter read after our visit to the Chinese restaurant last night. My insulin pump company claims this scenario is impossible, but it has happened before. Let me explain to you this procedure:

We were dining out. I was ready to give myself a mealtime bolus of 12 units. All of a sudden, my glucometer looses the bluetooth connection with my insulin pump, leaving the mealtime symbol in grey. If a bolus has been given, the symbol turns blue. I double check and still the symbol is grey, meaning the bolus has not been delivered. I am in doubt, since last time I had this issue, I ended up with a double bolus and a terrible low afterwards. I decide to believe the pump company and give another bolus, to cover for the one that is still grey and not blue. An hour and a half later, I feel dizzy and my lips are stinging: low.. I don't need to poke my finger to know. But I'm curious and I do check: 45 and 

6 active units of insulin in my body. Darn. There we go again.. I stuff my mouth with candy, swallow the sweets down with 400 ml of fruit juice but I already know that won't cut it. My blood sugar will keep on dropping and I will need to check more often. I'm ready, holding my candy and juice. I feel stuffed and there is absolutely no desire for dessert, but there's no other option. I don't want to call an ambulance to bring me to the hospital so I have to make sure my blood sugar keeps rising instead of dropping. I have removed my insulin pump to avoid my body from getting any more insulin. I'm tired. I want to go to bed, but I have to stay awake and alert to prevent worse. I really hate it when this happens. It makes me feel stupid and dumb. But this is the proof: these things DO happen, no matter what the pump company claims. I need to trust my own instincts. I should not have given myself that extra bolus. Let's have some more candy. And this time, it's not to party...

I spy with my little eye

For a couple of weeks now, I've been running around without my glasses. They bother me for they have become too large. I keep pushing them back and my head aches from pulling back my ears to hold those glasses in place. In fact, it's better for me not to wear my glasses all the time. I need them to watch television (I hardly every watch) or to drive my car. It had become a habit though, to wear them all the time. Knowing that I do well without, gives me a good feeling.

I'm seeing a new ophthalmologist today. I hear he's good and he doesn't bother you with those nasty eye drops that keep you from seeing clearly for a couple of hours. Wonder if my eyes have gone worse since last year.. One of the first things my endocrinologist told me right after she gave me the D-diagnosis, was that the eyes of a diabetic are very vulnerable. She told me not to expect complications within the first 10 years, but it could become trickier in the following decade. My first 10 years have passes but I'm not panicking yet. I'm chill and relaxed. My A1c number is still very acceptable, so no need to worry.

It's possible that the eye specialist will prescribe new glasses. Wouldn't know which ones to choose. I really suck at picking out glasses. So if anyone is willing to volunteer in helping me, give me a call.

She's coming!

We were not sure about the date yet, but now it's final: the Italian Ilaria Landriscina is coming to live with us for a couple of months and she will arrive September 12th! Hubby is busy getting a spare room ready for her. It won't be very large, but she will have all that she needs. We'll take good care of her. When Lana showed me her picture on Facebook, I realized it's really going to happen now. It'll be quite an experience to have another young girl in our household. She's 18 and we have no idea how she's been raised. We will have to talk about the rules in our house before she gets here. After all, we will be responsible for her well being. There's not much to do in our small village, but I'm sure she will find her way to Ghent and she will have plenty of friends to hang out with. Let's hope she will speak some English so we can understand each other just a little bit.

The room needs another coat of paint and some wall to wall carpet, before we can start putting in the furniture. She will need a bed and a small desk, hangers for her wardrobe. Let's make it a nice room for her to stay in, so she won't be homesick... Welcome to our house, Ilaria. We're looking forward to meeting you.

The girl on the swing

Your daddy is a smart cookie. He used your old custom made chair to make your own swing in the backyard. It gives you the opportunity to play outside with your brother and spend some time in the sun. I was excited to see how you would respond to your very own swing. After your nap, I carried you outside and strapped you into your chair. Four sturdy ropes are attached to that chair to make it possible for you to rock back and forth. It warmed my heart to see you all excited. Your grin was so satisfying and the sparkle in your eyes just asked for a picture. I pushed you as long as I could and your grin stayed right put.

In the background, I could hear the kids in the neighborhood, fooling around and playing hide and seek. I wonder if you heard them too? Were you aware of their joy and laughter? I had my eyes set on you and I truly enjoyed your enthusiasm. You are a lucky girl, to be born in a family that loving as yours...

Keep going

That Moroccan diarrhea is killing me. I went to see the doctor last night and I was happy he prescribed me some effective drugs. I had been taking the wrong medication and it made the bacteria stay inside my intestines. So off we go to fight that little bug and get back to a normal life. I've seen too much of the ladies room lately.

The oldest daughter left for work an hour ago. She's had a rough time, working hard in that heat. She doesn't complain though. She does what she's been asked to do and she does well. Her employer is real happy with the way she handles things and I'm sure they will ask her to come back next year. It's been a good experience for her as well. After all, how would a 17 yo know what the life of a working person is like, if they have never tried it? She's glad she is still a student..

Time to hop in that shower and freshen up to start this day. My little princess is waiting for me. It's been a while since we cuddled up on the couch together. I'm anxious to hear about their holiday..

Who am I

Today is my 41th birthday. I would dare to say half of my life has past by now. I used to think differently, saying that I would not grow older than 50. If that were still the case, I'd better hurry up and live my life to the fullest, for I would have no more than 9 years left. I have thought things over and I have decided 50 is a bit too young to leave this world. Ever since, I have tried to live my life the way I wanted to live it. Making the best of every given day. Today won't be any different. No bells or horns, no birthday cakes, no party. I am no fan of all that fuss. It's okay for someone else, but not necessary for me. I'll be 41 all year and I'm happy for every day I get.

Thank you all for the birthday wishes. It's good to know you have people around you that love you and care for who you are. Now it's my time to think about who I am and what my plans for the other half of my life will look like...

Honey we're home

Today was a bit hectic. The whippets were anxious for us to come pick them up. The people of Fiefoerniek's did so well at taking care of them in our absence. They even clipped their nails since we are such chickens at doing it ourselves.
Both ladies have lost some weight again and they are now in tip top shape. We're not used to seeing them that skinny but we know this is the weight they are supposed to have. Let's hope we will be able to ignore their crying for food...

It was good to see our girly daughters back too. One week is long. What a good feeling to embrace them and talk to them in real life. It's different than Facebook. There was so much to tell and they loved unpacking their presents.

Right away we had asked grandma and grandpa over for dinner. Hubby's godson joined them and he was eager to learn about our trip to Marrakech. We had BBQ over pleasant conversations, until the rain and thunder spoiled the fun.

The dogs are worn out. So am I. The Moroccan diarrhea is asking too much of my body. I think I'd better see our physician tomorrow. I'm done with it...

Every now and then

we all need a break. A break from home, a break from reality. For one week, we have had the chance to be no more than just a couple. No work, no children, no pets, no fuss of the daily life. Just the two of us, the sun and nothing to worry about. Of course we talked about home and the girls. Because we will always be parents. We contacted the children every day. How could we not? But still, things were different. We had more time for us as a couple. Every now and then, that's all we need...

Things are coming to an end. It's time to pack our suitcases and say goodbye to Marrakech. It has been a good week. A week to look back to with a smile. We have a photo album full of memories and stories to tell. It'll be good to take the plane home and embrace the girls. They did real well in our absence. We are proud of them.

It's all about the little things in life

Photos Cathy Van de Moortele

Experiencing the luxury of this hotel in Marrakech and facing reality in the streets on the opposite side, makes you reflect on what's important in life. Is it the gloom of the ancient silverware on the breakfast table that makes life good? Does the plastic money in your wallet make you rich?
We were discussing the subject with our cab driver (I admit, he just wanted to find out how rich we were, so he could set his price) and we all came to an agreement: it is important to have a roof over your head, a bit of food and good health. It makes you feel good if you have an arm around your shoulder and a bed to sleep in. It's nice to have someone to take care of you. It warms my heart if Hubby asks me to show him how to use my glucometer, just in case of emergency. Taking a sip of cold water when your mouth is dry, feels great in this heat. Sharing a banana with a toddler begging for food, rips out your mother's heart, because you want him to grow a bit more fat on his bones. You want to wipe his dirty nose and provide him with shoes that aren't too small. Will that make the child happier?

Last night, I went out all by myself, to look for band aids. Too many blisters on my feet from all the miles we have walked here. I was taking some more pictures, when all of a sudden, this Moroccan man came out of the blue, yelling terrible words at me and hitting my camera with his hand open wide. I decided not to argue with him. I put away my camera and continued my walk. I should have known better. These people are real people. They are not some monkeys in a public zoo. They are in their own country, buying their groceries for the night. I didn't have the right to take their picture. Maybe he thought we would make fun of them, showing their picture at home? How would it make us feel, if all these people would stare at us and take our picture?

We are lucky to have a good life in Belgium. No real worries, no lack of money or food. We shouldn't be complaining that much. Who cares if the sun isn't out most of the times in Belgium? So what if you ran out of bread in the morning - you know you will buy fresh and crispy bread that very same day. Is it really that awful if that stain won't come out of your white pair of trousers? We really shouldn't complain that much.. it's no more than a waste of energy...

Killjoy

On most days, I have no issues that I have diabetes. But some days, I truly wished D wouldn't be that much of a killjoy. When the lows hit in, one at a time and they last much longer than expected, those are the moments I wished I wasn't a diabetic. I hate it when your plans need to be postponed because of the fluctuations in your blood sugar. I hate it when you need to take a nap instead of going out and enjoy your holiday. I hate the feeling the overload of sugar gives you to beat the lows and the sick feeling to your stomach that high blood sugar gives you after overfeeding yourself..
But then I try to put things in perspective. I think of the Moroccan people with D. How many of them have no access to insulin. How they lack education on food or diabetes treatment. I see many people over here, who are blind or who lack limbs. Automatically I see them as diabetics with poor control. Maybe that is not the case, but it crosses my mind every time. The Moroccan food is so high in carbohydrates, which makes it very difficult to change your food habits..

The picknick in Cyper Park that we had planned, was cancelled because of too many sugar drops. We ate in the hotel, I took a 2 hour nap and afterwards we headed to the park. It was so hot out there and the lows kept coming.. No fun, I can tell you. Not for me and not for my husband, who has to keep up with the fluctuations as well. I don't like to stall the people around me and make them wait for me. I want to pretend I'm okay and just keep going. Let's hope tomorrow will be a better day, diabetes wise..

I have this urge

Photo Cathy Van de Moortele

Right after breakfast, we felt like chilling on the sunroof and let the sunbeams stroke our bodies. It was quiet up there and only 4 hotel guests (us included) used the sun beds.  Time to relax, have a talk, relax some more, have a drink (I love my Sahara drink made of almond milk, ground almonds, ground raisins and dates) and dip in the pool. Having my latest cook book in mind, I felt the urge to run some errands and do some cooking. Darn! how could I do that?? We're in Marrakech! No kitchen available over here. Hmhm.. that didn't mean, we couldn't run some errands, right? I love to stroll around the grocery shops in any country we visit. There are always products we don't have at home. So I convinced hubby to take a cab and do some shopping. To our surprise, the manager of the hotel sent us to the mall! How about that? For no more than 40 dirham (let's say 3.60 euro), the cab driver took us to the Almazar mall. Too bad many shops were closed for Ramadan, but nevertheless we got some nice things. We had a quick lunch at the local fast food place (why don't we have merguez panini at home?) and in the end, we discovered the Moroccan Carrefour. Yes, really, the same supermarket as the one we have at home. It did surprise me though, to see/hear that many Flemish people in the shop, with carts full of groceries. Maybe they rent an apartment and cook their own food?

The cab driver who took us home, was something else.. All the way back, he had no idea his handbrake wasn't released. He complained about his clutch that wasn't working, so when his car broke down in the middle of a very crowded roundabout, I could only hope he would be able to move his car and continue the ride. In the end, we got home safely.. Cabs are cheap around here. This driver was "happy" with 30 dirham. I don't think it will cover the cost of a new clutch though..

Our visit to Restaurant Le Marrakchi on Djemaa El-Fna was exciting. Great food, good entertainment - loved those young and elegant belly dancers - and right where all the activities were going on in the streets. I was happy though, to take a cab, since my high heels don't do well on the unequal streets of Marrakech. My blood sugar spiked after all of that couscous, potatoes, red beets, carrots, pancakes with honey and cinnamon spiced orange slices..  but it was worth it. We'll have a very good night rest. Again..

To the left... no no.. to the right... pppffff

Photo Cathy Van de Moortele

The plan was to visit Palace La Bahia and Palace El-Badi. Piece of cake, if you have a street map and some common sense, one would think. The map includes street names. Very helpful, if you would also find signs with the street names on the walls. Which we didn't see, obviously. So we walked and walked and took narrow streets, that appeared to be dead end streets (yes, the locals warned us about the dead ends, but we were convinced they only wanted to attract our attention to sell us carpets or jewelry..). It's unbelievable how many little alleys Marrakech has.  And they all look pretty much the same. In the end, you see a point of recognition and you are happy to be back into the "world". No high heels in Marrakech, just loafers, shorts and tank tops. And a bottle of water. Or two. Because water is expensive if you are in need. The salesmen know you need that water, because they can tell you are dehydrated and extremely thirsty. So they offer you their best price, you agree and set that bottle on your lips and then they charge you extra. You can't return the bottle, since you drank half of it already, so you have to open your wallet again and provide them with the extra change. That's just how it goes up here. By now, we know a bit more what the prices are and where to buy or not to buy.

Photo Cathy Van de Moortele

We had an excellent breakfast on the roof terrace in the morning, so lunch needn't be that extended. Hubby had some freshly baked Danish rolls - the 10 Dirham a piece ended up in 2 Dirham as soon as we tried to leave the bakery - while I tried a warm piece of gözleme. Very strange, since gözleme is Turkish. I assume they call it something else over here, but it was exactly the same thing.

We enjoyed a lazy afternoon in the sun - yes, still over 45°C - on the roof terrace. The iPad gave me a warning to cool it down, if that's enough of a symptom of how hot this place is. No need to wear my insulin pump for several hours. Even without, I had some lows. I must really buy fresh dates, since those are much healthier and tastier than melted, warm candy.

Photo Cathy Van de Moortele

A night out in town was the plan for the evening. Maybe some sightseeing on Djemaa El Fna. There's so much activity going on in the streets, we just have to sit down somewhere and enjoy the atmosphere..

Café des Epices was relaxing. Enjoying the silence of the night, on the roof of the restaurant, overlooking the soukhs over a tuna and chicken sandwich and a cold diet coke.. what more could we wish for..

Relais du silence

There is no better way to describe the silence of this hotel. The difference with the outside world is absolutely noticeable. The only noise we hear in this place, is the chirping of the finches. As soon as you close the main door behind you though, your ears have to adapt to the immense noise and chaos of the Marrakech streets. Dozens of motorcycles, horse carriages, pedestrians and taxi's crossing the same roads. It is a shocking experience and the decadence of the hotel versus the real street life, brings you down to Earth..

We had our breakfast on the sun roof. Breakfast in La Sultana is breakfast à la carte. A wide range of wonderful dishes to choose from. Where hubby chose to have French toast, scrambled eggs, Danish rolls, I opted for the more Moroccan breakfast of berber bread, harcha bread rolls, tahini toast, pistachio yogurt and Moroccan pancakes with freshly squeezed carrot/orange juice. What a delight to sit outside and enjoy a tasty breakfast with far more carbohydrates than my body can handle...

Discussing the plans of today, we realized there were no obligations. We were free to pick what we wanted to do. The plan was to go visit the beautiful gardens, so we took a glance at our map and decided it was no big deal to walk all the way up to the garden - which we obviously didn't find. The first catch of the day, were new sunglasses for me, since I broke my American pair. For the price of 30 MAD (about 3 euros), I was a happy girl and my eyes got rest from the burning heat that blurred my vision. In the end, we stranded in the Medina Djemaa El Fna again. Looking pretty familiar, but then again, there are so many narrow streets, that we got lost. Not that it mattered, because there is so much to see. There was the fish monger - we could smell his merchandise a couple of streets before we found him. He kept pouring fresh water over his fish, that was displayed in his warm counter. He kept a close eye on my camera, so I would not photograph him nor his shop, so I didn't even give it a try. His friend the butcher was a bit more lazy, so the snapshot was taken before he could take a breath. The meat didn't look appealing at all, especially because the guts were hanging out of the carcass.. The flies didn't mind that smelly scenery, but it made my stomach twirl. This strengthens my idea of eating no meat in Marrakech.

Going in a local tea house, once again we were surprised by the size of this former Minister's House. It was huge and so silent! We were served chicken kebabs on rice and Couscous aux 7 légumes, which we truly enjoyed. It filled our stomachs, before we headed back to the hotel to take a nap.
The pool was fairly cold, compared to the temperatures we have experienced here. Moving up a couple of stair to the sunroof, there was a smaller basin to drench our bodies in. It was like we had rented the place all for ourselves. Nobody else thought it was a good idea to spend some time on the lounge beds, reading a book and sipping our Mojito and non-alcoholic Sahara cocktail (almond milk, ground almonds, raisins and dates mixed to a delicious creamy shake). Do you think we'll get a nice tan after all?

We took a short walk outside, before we climbed up to the sunroof for dinner (okay, we took the elevator - don't overdo it). It was dark by then - the staff eats between 7:00 PM and 8:00 PM for it's Ramadan, remember? - so they lit candles and we were given small flash lights to read the menu. The international cooks make this place a bit more expensive, but the food was definitely worth the cost. Hubby has his slow-cooked beef shank with baked potatoes (no greens??) while I enjoyed the scallops and king prawns with crushed potatoes and grilled veggies. No, we should not have drunk wine or asked for dessert, but the willpower lost to our greediness. My sweet pastilla filled with light cream and toasted slivers of almond satisfied my taste buds. Hubby endeavored his dish of sweets with a shot of espresso. Time to pay the bill and go back to our little palace to settle for the night..

Very impressive

The flight to Marrakech took us no longer than 3 hours and 15 min. Amazing if you know you're in a different continent after all. At arrival, the temperature was as high as 47°C. It hit us in the face, when we descended from the plane. We asked the hotel manager to come pick us up at the airport and we were delighted to see this perfectly dressed chauffeur waiting for us. He knew our names and he guided us outside the airport to the car. That is, a spotless Chrysler, air conditioned, cool drinks ready to hand out. Never before had we been welcomed like this in any country. The ride to the hotel was brief (approximately 15 min) but informative. The driver showed us some interesting spots and was very modest and polite. By the time we had arrived in the Kasbah, the chaos was complete. It was so crowded and noisy, it looked like a movie scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark. The chauffeur had to park his car to make space for a family grieving over a lost family member. They carried their beloved one on a stretcher on their shoulder. The streets were dusty and dirty and we had no idea where we were headed to. The chauffeur called the manager to let her know we were on our way, so when the car parked, a team of no less than 3 men awaited us to carry our luggage inside. Once again, they greeted us by our full names and led us to the front door, away from the noise and the chaos of the Kasbah. The minute the copper doors opened, an oasis of silence calmed us down. Miss Saida welcomed us and Mr Khalid showed us to one of the sitting areas, where we got fresh water and hot mint tea, to wash away the Moroccan home made pastries. We couldn't do much more than look around and enjoy the scenery and the silence of this place. What a difference from what happens just outside this gate..

Mr Khalid showed us around, so we could see the 5 Riads of this hotel. Our room - Cameleon - is located on the first floor, right next to the pool. Some people were sitting on the deck, enjoying each other's company, but there was not a sound to be heard. No music, no voices, no nothing..

The room is exquisite. We have visited good hotels before, but this one beats it all. I think we're going to have a very relaxing time over here. How could we not..

Miss Saida was a bit overwhelmed by our idea of visiting the town without at least a map. She made sure she knew what we looked like, just in case we got lost and she needed to give the police a description. I don't know it that was a joke or not, but she insisted on giving us a street map and showing us the way to Djemaa el Fna. Because that's where we were headed too. The sun was not to be seen, but the streets were very hot and dusty. The place was crowded with mopeds, carriages, cars, pedestrians,.. there were plenty of merchants with fresh fruit, dried fruit (those plump dates looked very appealing), harira soup and hard boiled eggs (it is the last week of Ramadan). We had dinner on a panoramic terrace: Moroccan salad, Moroccan tajine for the husband and tajine végétale for me and a platter of honeydew melon for dessert. It was cheap, filling and good.

It was a short walk back to the hotel, where we could relax and take a well deserved shower. Day one was a success.