Escape to Africa
Cold and rainy November morning. Train to airport. Flight. First time in Morocco. First time in Africa.
An astonishing difference from what we used to in boring calm and safe-paced Europe.
Main square.
The whole world of snakes, juices, spices, carpets and whatever you can imagine being sold. Talk to people here. They appreciate when you stop not only to buy something but also to have a short conversation. And of course, as you talk, the price can go down significantly.
Streets are quite unlike European at the city center of Marrakesh. They are narrow and noisy as hives because of motorbikes who feel totally being pedestrians.
Desert
At the point where city ends, a desert begins. Tiny, not even villages, but a bunch of cabins situated here and there remind about civilization somewhere close by, although finding yourself in the literal middle of nowhere is no longer difficult.
And airport. Again
Many travels are end at the airport. Like airports are just portals between destinations. I am fully against it.
Airports, planes, trains, subway are all part of travel and experience.
Echo 