Liverpool, UK -> Marrakech, Morocco
Thursday, April 8, 2015

The day started well, the sun was shining, the birds were singing and the light breeze sent a whisper through the trees – unfortunately we were still in Liverpool. So we packed, we unpacked and we packed again until the bags were full and our patience was expended. Then we were off .

The trip to Manchester was uneventful, the selected music was God knows what, something the “young people” listen to I expect, but eventually we arrived at the airport. The police attempted to direct us away from the terminal but by simply driving more slowly than everyone else by the time we reached the blockade the police car had opened the road again and we were able arrive at our destination with hours to spare (yes, I know!)

Check-in was seamless, the spot of lunch was lovely and the delay due to the air traffic control in France was expected, but eventually we managed to board the plane, ignore the worrying sounds from the port side, and enjoy the smooth flight to Africa.

Marrakech airport was clean, pleasant and modern, but the passport control was stunningly chaotic, to such an extent that the passport officer was forced to come out of his little cubicle and harangue the crowd in a variety of languages – all of which were gleefully ignored. Even so, we made our weary way past the luggage pickup, through the sleepy customs people and out into Morocco.

The man from the riad was there in a smart 4 wheeled drive car, and he whisked us, at a strangely sedate pace, to the centre of Marrakech. Eventually he ran out of road wide enough for his car so were we ushered out of the vehicle and into the care of Abdul, a charming chap who steered us down winding alleys and narrowing passageways until we arrived at a non-descript doorway. “Et voila” we had arrived at the Le Coq Berbere.

Bachir greeted us as we arrived, showed us to our room and let us know that dinner would be served when we were ready, and since it was about 11pm, we were ready any time.