From here, to there.

I'd forgotten how brutal the 02:00 alarm call for the 03:00 cab to the airport was. Bleary eyed, short of sleep, thankfully not hungover. I'm also conscious that I'm the least prepared for a trip that I can remember. Not intentionally - I think I just hit the off switch at the end of Friday, and haven't really turned it back on since then. After a slightly frantic hour making sure I've actually packed, you know - some clothes, and have all my documentation, I'm into the cab and suddenly feel the flush of excitement about my trip.

I've done a little solo travelling over the past 15 years, but it's largely been with something specific in mind, like a week's skiing. This is the first time since my ill-fated trip around in India over my 30th birthday, some *cough* fifteen years ago that I've set off to explore and discover in quite the same way. I know I've changed a lot in those 15 years, and I wanna find out if that's changed my experience of and attitude to throwing some clothes in a backpack, and hitting the road.

The first thing I'm struck by is how 'normal' the airport and flight experience is. There's no distancing, there are incredibly few mask wearers. Definitely looks and feels like a post-pandemic environment. Wilful ignorance? Maybe - but if I'm honest it's quite a nice slice of normal.

I'm immediately minded that travelling solo is a very different experience to the past 15 years of fun with my co-conspirator. Social interaction is only there if you search for it, and are open to it. I spend a lovely hour on the flight chatting to a young mum who's travelling with her 4 year old - fast asleep in the window seat next to her.

On arrival into Marrakech, walking out of the coolness of the airport terminal, I'm met by a blast of desert heat. Marrakech sits on the boundary between Morocco's Mediterranean climate and the bone-dry Sahara eco-system. It's not like the UK hasn't had the hottest Summer on record, and isn't enjoying a very warm Autumn, but the difference between that and the desert heat is huge. It's lovely.

I'm staying in Palmeraie - about 8 km outside of Marrakech's ancient city-centre. As the name suggests, the environs are littered with palm fronds, gently swaying in the breeze. The hotel's grounds are covered with them, mingling with the classically styled North African architecture of the hotel buildings.

My priority once I'm checked in is sleep, and I drift into a deep, 3 hour nap - so deep that I'm utterly confused when I wake up, unsure where or when I am. It passes quickly enough, and I head to grab a beer and some dinner. Moroccan wine is, um.... *interesting* Definitely not the worst I've tasted, but a bit rough around the edges. Who cares - it does the job, and it's not late before I decide today's been long enough, and I'm ready to sleep...

I think I'm supposed to share pictures with these blog posts - something about making them more visually appealing or whatevs. I will comply.Read more