Back the way we came

Day 9...It seemed strange that it was our last day in Essaouira, our last day of being on the road and our last day together as a group.
We had seen and done so much together and had got to know each other really well it felt a bit like the we were ending just at the beginning.
That's not to say we didn't make the most of our time left.
The weather was nice so I decided to wear a dress that was summery but not revealing armed with that and my aviators I finally felt like I was on holiday.
We spent the morning shopping and we bought clothes and shoes and bags and jewellery and as well as drums and artwork and sooooo many scarves that I feared they might actually run out!

After lunch we went back to the Riad to collect our belongings and - typically - now that I had finally learned to navigate my way through the alleyways of Essaouira we were now walking down them for the last time to meet the coach to Marrakech.
The last leg of our trip was simply to head back to the place where it all started.
As I sat on the coach I wondered how often we do that in life.
This blog is named after the town I did most of my growing up in and I think that a lot of time I seek to understand myself not just by looking at the path ahead that I am trying to take in life but by looking back at the path I took to get here too.
It got me thinking about the play I am writing at the moment where one of the characters puts her future in jeopardy when someone from her past lands uninvited on her doorstep. It's my attempt at dramatising a crossroads - the path that lead you here and the one that will lead you away.
I didn't really think much more about it till we walked back through the Medina in Marrakech. Everyone seemed to hassle me more than I remembered, they were grabbing at my hands and bag. Plus after everything we'd seen the things that once seemed exotic to me now just seemed to be cheap rip offs of the real thing that undoubtedly originates from further afield.
My mum believes that you can never really go back anywhere but I think you can, but only if you have already let go of the past.
In terms of this holiday - Marrakech hadn't changed, but maybe I had.

That evening we went for our last meal together and sat outside even though it wasn't that warm (that might have been the fault of the Brits - 'oh it's not absolutely freezing course we can brave it outside...') and we went round the table saying what our best bit of the trip was. Unsurpisingly the desert was pretty high on everyone's lists and whilst the 4WD was my highlight a very close second was the second night when we slept in the Atlas mountains.
Sure the Gite we stayed in was freezing cold and the showers weren't hot but the scenery was stunning, the food was divine and we sat round the fire and chatted free from TV and news and in fact any agenda.
It was great and something I have made a conscious effort to do more of since I got back.

After dinner (my last tagine...) one of the Americans read out a story that she had written earlier that day about us all. It was set in 2020 and we were all meeting up in Paris. She had a little bit about everyone - what they were up to and how they had travelled to Paris. In it people had started their own company, adopted babies, travelled the world, won awards. She had remembered something that all of us had mentioned even if we didn't remember it.
It made me realise that you don't need to be a writer to tell a story and also the best skill you can acquire when you're dealing with people all the time is to listen to them. Really listen to them. And if you can identify with what they're saying then you might just be a better storyteller because of it perhaps.
I already thought she was an amazing person as she was a doctor and was really reassuring and helpful when I talked about my Mum. But this was really touching and a fun way to remember everyone and the fun we had together.
In case you're interested in the story we were meeting in Paris because a new play of mine was opening there and everyone was coming to the opening night (sounds good to me...) One of the Canadians had come to meet me as I - get this - arrived by swimming across the channel. When I got out the water I was asked how the temperature of the water was and I replied 'refreshing'.

Maybe Morocco hadn't been the perfect holiday, maybe it hadn't even been something I'd planned on doing but it had been amazing and I believe it was what I needed to do - to get outside of my comfort zone and experience something new - and sometimes, when you least expect it, you find yourself right in the middle of an experience that turns out an unexpectedly good story...