Day 139 (17 Days until Surgery) May Day 2024 Morocco

I slept well and managed to wake at 7AM with only one interruption, proof of hydration, and there were no dark dreams. I started the blog and wrote for about an hour, not making that much progress, and finally cleaning up and dressing. Today is the suit with the suspenders and the blue sweater vest. I put on the grey suit I bought to wear to Linda’s wedding; it will not clash with the blue vest. Black leather shoes with dark socks. Nothing from the shoe company today.

Breakfast again is now familiar, and I enjoy it; I am having trouble eating it all–a good sign. Less is good. I wrote the blog until almost 10AM this morning while drinking some coffee, sometimes filled by me, and other times the staff, loving the new look, filled my cup. The blog, finally completed, was published, and references were emailed to those who may not use FaceBook or wish to open an account with WordPress to get notification.

The cough that was a minor annoyance the day before was non-stop today, and the albuterol inhaler is just putting a dent in it. It is a day to go slower and hope for an improvement. I sat in the lobby and read for a while.

I dropped off the laptop in my room—in its case, it looks like an encyclopedia book, so I just stuffed it in my suitcase. The staff was already cleaning, so I gave the gal a tip. Earlier, I opened and relocked the safe, ensuring it was not frozen or empty. I will need the passport to get home! All was good, I got my hat.

I walked the four short blocks to the Parc De La Lique Arabe (a classic Moroccan-style park), walked around it, and read my book (more French Canadian murders by Louise Penny, a Chief Inspector Gamache Novel). I did not find walking difficult, nor did my balance seem worse than usual, but I was tired, and the coughing was getting harsh. Something was triggering it.

Putting away the book in the park, I thought how happy I was to be here after all that had happened and to share it with so many on social media, text, and messaging. I am never alone. There were tears as I missed folks, remembered all the cancer treatments, and now the brain tumor and other troubles. Despite the tears, I am immensely grateful for the doctors and medical folks who helped me and knew how to help Susie find her best possible end. There under the sky, with the birds singing, the water splashing, and the smells of plants, I remembered all of this and was truly thankful.

Leaving the park, I have been trying to get up the bravery to sit in one of the coffee places and enjoy their hospitality. I decided to brave it in the nearby Red Coffee. I sat and, as a stranger, was ignored by everyone except the shoe shine guy I first turned down. The waiter finally acknowledged me, and his Arabic and my English-only responses went poorly initially. Tea and a bottle of water I hoped was requested, and soon they appeared, and all was good. The shoe shine guy appeared to be attached somehow to the place, so I waved him to me and soon paid 20 local (I put it out for him, and he agreed quite happy with the amount–yes, I am likely overpaying for everything). I spent another hour and more drinking tea in my tie, sweater vest, dress shirt, and newly polished black shoes. I had another coughing attack, and a gentleman moved his smoking away from me, and then it calmed down. I seem to be allergic to cigarette smoke. Water pipes did not bother me. I will need to be more careful!

I paid 100 local and was offered lots of change. I took only 50, and now the waiter’s English worked. They were happy to serve and hope to see me again soon. I dipped my hat, and they bowed and covered their hearts in response. Yes, I will be back, and 5 US dollars is a good price for a pot of mint tea and a bottle of water. Anything less seems to be taking advantage of Morocco.

I went to 1203 and did some surfing on the internet and reading email. Soon, I called my driver, Radouane, who said he would pick me up at 3 (15:00). I rested for a while and read some more. Finally, the coughing was fading. I had some more Airborne, and that seemed to help, too.

Next, I was outside, and soon, Radouane appeared in his red Petit Taxi and drove me across Casablanca near one of the main train stations. We then entered a plain building and took the elevator to the fifth floor. His family, he explained later, was at a mosque and then the beach. His apartment is half a huge, elegant room with a huge classic rug and has the usual rooms, bath, kitchen, and two bedrooms. We sat in an entrance room with a table, also classic and iconoclastic, if not austere, and I waited while he made mint tea and selected various cookies and cakes to share. “This is your home now,” I was told, and we enjoyed tea together. You apparently pour the mint tea and then pour the hot tea into another glass and back to cool and mix it.

The tea is served in small glass cups. The cookies and cakes were all store-bought but excellent. We chatted, and Radouane was happy to receive comments from people in the USA about his house. I took a few pictures, and he translated some of the news on TV, as well as some of the nature shows on honey production and escargot (snails). I looked incredulous at the camel milk. I was informed it was good but expensive. The same comment was also made about the escargots. Soon, the exhaustion started, and after turning down a visit to the beach, I was returned to my hotel. I was still thinking then of seeing Radat by traveling by train, and my driver would take me to the correct train station if that was my plan on Thursday.

I rested some and then dressed again for dinner, ditching the jacket. Soon, I was on the 16th floor and roof again. There, I ordered tapas and a beer. I called a few folks from the roof. I finished and had to go to my room for the tip; I left my cash there. After returning, I paid the bill (actually signed it to the room and gave a 50 local tip), went to the lobby, and then went for a walk. What would Dondrea do with just 4500 steps? Walk more. I raised it to over 6,000 by walking to the spooky-looking military building. I took more pictures as I think it would be perfect for a cult in Call of Cthulhu adventure.

Kids on skates slammed into me, but I managed to keep standing and avoid more than one contact. They kept going, and I heard what might have been an apology. It being a holiday, the ice cream store was packed, and there were lots of folks romantically sharing ice cream. It made me happy to see so many happy folks.

After that and my close call with the skaters, I headed back to 1203, got more comfortable (including more inhaler use), and started to write the blog.

Thanks for reading!