Oh, Bartender, You peddle addiction Sweetened with grenadine, Muddled with bitters, Garnished with mint leaves. You take some pleasure In the demand for your skill, Like a…… Read more “Bartender”
So you want to know why I prefer to travel alone, alone with my thoughts and the road, traveling without inhibitions and without “friends”, allowing myself to be swept around the river bend? So you want to know why I travel solo?
Rule number one of shopping in the Souks? Haggle, haggle, and then haggle some more.
Traveling alone, I found myself very suspicious of the people around me, nervous of any pickpockets who might attempt to steal my cash and identity. My hostel was situated just outside of the city center, in what must have been a residential area, as there were no shops to be found, and very little foot traffic. My antennae went up, the heckles on my neck raised.
Kammy Hostel is centrally located right outside of the labrynth of bazaars and souks. There are no doors to the rooms, and no lockers. However, there is a nice sense of community that convincingly reassures travelers that their belongings are safe. Regardless, distrustful as I am, I did end up hiding my most important valuables (passport, plane tickets, etc) underneath my mattress.
My trip to Morocco was one of the most incredible experiences of my life – never before had I embraced such spontaneity and (dare I say) reckless abandon in my entire life, and never had I felt more alive. I never want to forget the desert, the spices, the people, the magic…