Play it again, Sam
October 28, 2024
“It’s good you will be staying for three nights.”
Mohammed, the concierge at Marrakesh’s Le Meridien spoke calmly. The cranky business travelers apologized. Our road to Morocco had many potholes.
The puddle jumper flight delayed from Lisbon. Rush school tours in Rabat and Casablanca. Eid al Mubarak sightings: a sheep riding shotgun in a taxi; on a banquet table at midnight celebrating Maple Bear Fez.
“Thank you, no. I’ve already eaten,” I had said.
I’m Canadian. We eat at 6, I didn’t say.
Breakfast in the Atlas Mountains watching a Berber parking lot for donkeys. A walking taxi in Tangier, a Moroccan Uber, through the maze of the medina. An ashtray nicked from Le Grande Hotel Villa.
“The bar is over there.” Mohammed spoke quietly, again.
A black piano player in a white tuxedo at the piano. Complimentary, icy-cold, vodka martinis.
We let time go by.