The Five go to Marrakech
We have had big gatherings and gatherettes. And people meeting for lunch or to spend Christmas or birthdays together, but in April 2016 we had another first. Our first holiday abroad together.
Five people from different places, different backgrounds, different occupations who met and became friends just because they shared a love for the Guardian Quick Crossword.
That click of the mouse brought us to Marrakech.
It all started with a bet. May 2013. Edinburgh gathering.
Three years later, it was time. We travelled from all over the country in trains, planes, automobiles… to meet in Gatwick and start our adventure.
And here we are. In a riad in Marrakech, all dressed up ready to go to the Mamounia Hotel to settle the bet.
Here is our travel diary of that adventure.
(Click on pictures to get full size)
The five travelled by road, rail and air, from east, west and north, to gather and board the Marrakech Express (cunningly disguised in the orange and white livery of Squeezey Jet)
A night landing in Marrakech afforded exciting glimpses, but a fuller appreciation of the Red City would have to wait until morning. But the sight of many of the male inhabitants wearing djellabas with pointed hoods, gave the pleasing first impression of a city with more than its fair share of Wizards...
The taxi took us as far as the roads would allow, then a quick scurry through streets too narrow for cars. At our riad, waiting for us, was a simple but perfect and delicious supper of vegetable couscous, fruit and wine.
A night landing in Marrakech afforded exciting glimpses, but a fuller appreciation of the Red City would have to wait until morning. But the sight of many of the male inhabitants wearing djellabas with pointed hoods, gave the pleasing first impression of a city with more than its fair share of Wizards...
The taxi took us as far as the roads would allow, then a quick scurry through streets too narrow for cars. At our riad, waiting for us, was a simple but perfect and delicious supper of vegetable couscous, fruit and wine.
Day 1. Wednesday 6th April 2016
starrock
After breakfast, our first foray into the medina with first stop being the Ben Youssef Medersa.
The Koranic school first founded in the mid 14th century, was rebuilt in the 16th century and had a capacity for up to 900 students. The Moorish design courtyard is paved with white marble with a pool for ablutions at the centre. The walls are decorated with zellij tile work and carved plaster.
A light lunch included our first Moroccan salad and the opportunity to practise a few words of Arabic scattered amongst the more confident French.
Next stop, the Pharmacie, L’Herboriste du Paradis. Not just a pharmacy for remedies but also somewhere to buy spices, herbs, dyes, paint pigments, pot pourri, soaps and of course, Argan oil.
Then on, into the souks which impress all of the senses...
The sights of traders inviting haggling for pottery, lamps, tea pots, vibrant fabrics, leather work, sequinned babouches, and jewellery of silver, coral, ebony, turquoise and lapis lazuli. The smells of the spice markets, bubbling tagines and mint tea. The sounds of clattering donkey carts, the voices of the traders and their customers, revving mopeds and above it all, the muezzin calls to prayer from the minarets.
Next stop Jemaa el-Fna square and mint tea on the second floor terrace of the Cafe de France with great views of the hustle and bustle of the trading in the square, over the roof tops and minarets to the mountains beyond.
After a brief rest back at the riad, off out for dinner at Le Foundouk for cocktails and a taste of Moroccan cuisine.
The Mohkef
The Koranic school first founded in the mid 14th century, was rebuilt in the 16th century and had a capacity for up to 900 students. The Moorish design courtyard is paved with white marble with a pool for ablutions at the centre. The walls are decorated with zellij tile work and carved plaster.
A light lunch included our first Moroccan salad and the opportunity to practise a few words of Arabic scattered amongst the more confident French.
Next stop, the Pharmacie, L’Herboriste du Paradis. Not just a pharmacy for remedies but also somewhere to buy spices, herbs, dyes, paint pigments, pot pourri, soaps and of course, Argan oil.
Then on, into the souks which impress all of the senses...
The sights of traders inviting haggling for pottery, lamps, tea pots, vibrant fabrics, leather work, sequinned babouches, and jewellery of silver, coral, ebony, turquoise and lapis lazuli. The smells of the spice markets, bubbling tagines and mint tea. The sounds of clattering donkey carts, the voices of the traders and their customers, revving mopeds and above it all, the muezzin calls to prayer from the minarets.
Next stop Jemaa el-Fna square and mint tea on the second floor terrace of the Cafe de France with great views of the hustle and bustle of the trading in the square, over the roof tops and minarets to the mountains beyond.
After a brief rest back at the riad, off out for dinner at Le Foundouk for cocktails and a taste of Moroccan cuisine.
The Mohkef
Ben Youssef Medersa
L'Herboriste du Paradis
Djema El Fna from the Café de France
At Le Foundouk
Day 2. Thursday 7th April 2016
Friedfish
The reckless bet that brought us to Morocco had several layers to it. I knew at the time that win or lose, it would involve a trip to Marrakech. Well, I wanted to go back there; and I knew that Spanishscot did too. But I also knew that for me, going back could be risky business...
Marrakech was my springboard to India, and India had to come first. Spanishscot was prepared to wait.
But would The Red City now be a disappointment after my five months' journey? And what unexpected ghosts might I find in Marrakech? Especially today, revisiting both Majorelle and Mamounia...
But from the outset this trip was something of a celebration, and posh gardens and posh teas in posh hotels are definitely something to celebrate! I didn't go looking for too many ghosts, and only a couple crept up on me...
So, what of memory?
The blue paint in the gardens was harder, opaquer, more impenetrable than I remembered, and the lemon and lime plant pots, hand-rails, benches, sharper on the eye. This was not a place I could relax in, so while everyone else went for coffee or a mint tea, I went "wandering lonely as a " and hit on the idea of negative space in photographs. A theme continued for the rest of the holiday.
Work in progress... a positive visit, you might say!
And so, to the afternoon. Looked out the shirt, the tie, the trousers. All, as it happens, Indian formality. I'm much happier in travellers' beige, but am taking no chances. No one is going to suspect I'm not from Chigwell.
At the Mamounia times have changed, and as non-res we had to file through electronic screening, risk a frisking, let them look in our bags. Memory tricks. The interior had been updated, upgraded, and the lovely shabby chic thirties décor had mostly gone. And tea was now served on the terrace.
Tea and CAKES. Well, that's what we'd come for. And that's what we did. Mille-feuilles in style.
Not being a gambling man, this was the best bet I'd ever made. And the taste lingers on... bloody marvellous!
Majorelle Garden
Marrakech was my springboard to India, and India had to come first. Spanishscot was prepared to wait.
But would The Red City now be a disappointment after my five months' journey? And what unexpected ghosts might I find in Marrakech? Especially today, revisiting both Majorelle and Mamounia...
But from the outset this trip was something of a celebration, and posh gardens and posh teas in posh hotels are definitely something to celebrate! I didn't go looking for too many ghosts, and only a couple crept up on me...
So, what of memory?
The blue paint in the gardens was harder, opaquer, more impenetrable than I remembered, and the lemon and lime plant pots, hand-rails, benches, sharper on the eye. This was not a place I could relax in, so while everyone else went for coffee or a mint tea, I went "wandering lonely as a " and hit on the idea of negative space in photographs. A theme continued for the rest of the holiday.
Work in progress... a positive visit, you might say!
And so, to the afternoon. Looked out the shirt, the tie, the trousers. All, as it happens, Indian formality. I'm much happier in travellers' beige, but am taking no chances. No one is going to suspect I'm not from Chigwell.
At the Mamounia times have changed, and as non-res we had to file through electronic screening, risk a frisking, let them look in our bags. Memory tricks. The interior had been updated, upgraded, and the lovely shabby chic thirties décor had mostly gone. And tea was now served on the terrace.
Tea and CAKES. Well, that's what we'd come for. And that's what we did. Mille-feuilles in style.
Not being a gambling man, this was the best bet I'd ever made. And the taste lingers on... bloody marvellous!
Majorelle Garden
Negative space in the Majorelle garden
Tea at the Mamounia Hotel
Day 3. Friday 8th April 2016. Essaouira
Spanishscot
We left the riad and made our way along the now familiar alleys of the Medina. It seemed a lot quieter than usual, many of the little shops along the way were shut and there were fewer people, mopeds and donkeys as we made our way to the Mohkef. Our driver later explained that it was Friday, the day of the Grande Prière, a feast day for Muslims. Ahmed, wearing his djellaba was waiting for us and starrock was delighted to see we were going to be driven to Essaouira by a wizard. Mrsmatisse, that old hippy, was just happy following in the footsteps of Jimi Hendrix and his alleged stay in that town.
The road to Essaouira was completely straight and went along a flat, dry landscape, almost a desert, with sand dunes visible in the distance. Just some olive and orange groves and a few eucalyptus trees provided a bit of green. We saw storks nesting on the mosque minarets and we drove over several river beds that were completely dry, the price for the uninterrupted sunshine we had been enjoying. As we approached the sea the landscape became a bit greener, with big plantations of Argan trees, the only place in the whole world where these trees can be found.
So, we did the tourist thing and went into the women’s cooperative, saw how the argan oil is made, bought some stuff and got some surreal pictures with goats on trees. We did however draw the line at the photo op with the camels and told Ahmed to drive on.
By the time we got to Essaouira it was lunchtime, so Ahmed, who was in a hurry to go and pray, left us in the Restaurant Fanatic. We had a nice lunch by the beach, watching the fierce waves and the kite surfers. Later we walked around the town, white walls and blue shutters, and starrock photographed lots of wizards and cats. We tried to get to the sea but we kept bumping into a huge wall. We did eventually find it. We walked around the harbour and the fish market and whilst FriedFish and starrock walked along the sea wall the rest of us went to a café for a well deserved mint tea.
It was nice to get back to our riad, to another delicious dinner cooked by Aisha and a bit of relaxation and quality time with our IPads.
The road to Essaouira was completely straight and went along a flat, dry landscape, almost a desert, with sand dunes visible in the distance. Just some olive and orange groves and a few eucalyptus trees provided a bit of green. We saw storks nesting on the mosque minarets and we drove over several river beds that were completely dry, the price for the uninterrupted sunshine we had been enjoying. As we approached the sea the landscape became a bit greener, with big plantations of Argan trees, the only place in the whole world where these trees can be found.
So, we did the tourist thing and went into the women’s cooperative, saw how the argan oil is made, bought some stuff and got some surreal pictures with goats on trees. We did however draw the line at the photo op with the camels and told Ahmed to drive on.
By the time we got to Essaouira it was lunchtime, so Ahmed, who was in a hurry to go and pray, left us in the Restaurant Fanatic. We had a nice lunch by the beach, watching the fierce waves and the kite surfers. Later we walked around the town, white walls and blue shutters, and starrock photographed lots of wizards and cats. We tried to get to the sea but we kept bumping into a huge wall. We did eventually find it. We walked around the harbour and the fish market and whilst FriedFish and starrock walked along the sea wall the rest of us went to a café for a well deserved mint tea.
It was nice to get back to our riad, to another delicious dinner cooked by Aisha and a bit of relaxation and quality time with our IPads.
Day 4. Saturday 9th April 2016. Notes from a riad somewhere in Marrakech
MrsMatisse
Well I've been here before ....but hey.....nothing prepares you for the fresh assault on all your sensual orifices. This time I was dwelling more undercover in the medina. A 20 min walk to town amid the narrowing taxi 'no go' area of mopeds, bicycles, families of six (often performing acrobatic contortions on mopeds), cats about to have kittens, herbs galore, grimacing sheep's heads, donkeys a braying, fish and chips Marrakech style, carrot coloured orange juice, second hand shoes, warm baked bread, wizards a wandering etc. All at once. Aromas galore.
And I was with my crossie pals for the first time on forrin' shores.
Day 4 in the peaceful riad started with some birdy love songs and a quadruple spoiler from le mari. Before breakfast even. Fortunately the third wife hadn't traversed the north east corner yet.
A slow take off was planned after the exertions of the previous two days. So Fried Fish asked if he could borrow spanishscot's bath. Not in order to bathe in asses milk but to wash two of his three identical outfits, (having been advised to remember to keep one on.)
At around 11 a crisis occurred when the Internet became temperamental, and then went AWOL. In search of distraction 4 donned the 5 go to Marrakech T shirt and shots were taken on the terrace, excluding any pink giraffes this time. Fried Fish worked at his David Bailey technique somewhat over enthusiastically.
But on to the Photography museum for inspiration. All very interesting and housed in a beautiful riad. We had a confusing lunch on a delightful terrace with panoramic views of the red city, and listened to the mid afternoon call to prayer, bamboozled and enchanted by stereophonic voices.
Flopping on to the tickly bottom wicker chaises on the terrace brought welcome respite from some shopping and getting lost around town.
Our local evening meal out took us to a roof terrace of a foundouk (shared by tin smiths and their families), and the trip advisor review was 'go for it.' No regrets there. The sun set spectacularly next to the tiny crescent moon, a cocktail surprised us, and a tabby kitten played havoc. It was another fine day for the Five.
And I was with my crossie pals for the first time on forrin' shores.
Day 4 in the peaceful riad started with some birdy love songs and a quadruple spoiler from le mari. Before breakfast even. Fortunately the third wife hadn't traversed the north east corner yet.
A slow take off was planned after the exertions of the previous two days. So Fried Fish asked if he could borrow spanishscot's bath. Not in order to bathe in asses milk but to wash two of his three identical outfits, (having been advised to remember to keep one on.)
At around 11 a crisis occurred when the Internet became temperamental, and then went AWOL. In search of distraction 4 donned the 5 go to Marrakech T shirt and shots were taken on the terrace, excluding any pink giraffes this time. Fried Fish worked at his David Bailey technique somewhat over enthusiastically.
But on to the Photography museum for inspiration. All very interesting and housed in a beautiful riad. We had a confusing lunch on a delightful terrace with panoramic views of the red city, and listened to the mid afternoon call to prayer, bamboozled and enchanted by stereophonic voices.
Flopping on to the tickly bottom wicker chaises on the terrace brought welcome respite from some shopping and getting lost around town.
Our local evening meal out took us to a roof terrace of a foundouk (shared by tin smiths and their families), and the trip advisor review was 'go for it.' No regrets there. The sun set spectacularly next to the tiny crescent moon, a cocktail surprised us, and a tabby kitten played havoc. It was another fine day for the Five.
Day 5. Sunday 10th April 2016. The Atlas Mountains
Deelfi
Starrock, FriedFish and I start the day in an overcast Marrakech, making our usual way to the Moukef, where our taxi minibus is waiting. We leave the hustle and bustle of the Medina, and then the outskirts of the city and head for the Atlas Mountains, about an hour and a half drive away. Our destination is the Ourika Valley and the village of Setti Fatma.
As we near the foothills the sun starts to burn off the clouds and we see snow covered peaks in the distance. The road begins to twist and turn upwards with roadside stalls selling all manner of objects in wood, metal, pottery. By the side of the road camels are waiting – but we resist stopping and having our photo taken riding one!!
The contrast from the city is great – the landscape is lush in the valley, there are hillside orchards and vegetables growing on terraces. The houses in the Berber villages are built from bricks made from the local red soil, so it feels as if they merge into the mountainside.
As we head up the road beside the Ourika river there are many wonky bridges crossing the river to cafés with brightly coloured tables, chairs and sofas (though not a chaise in sight) set right down by the riverside – in some cases the legs of the tables and chairs in the water.
At the head of the valley we arrive at Setti Fatma, a typical Berber village, surrounded by peaks of the High Atlas. Again the contrast from the city hits me – no dust and souks, but clear air and greenery.
We meet our guide for the trek to the 7 waterfalls and cross the first rickety bridge, then through many stalls with souvenirs (Starrock and I buy little alabaster carvings from a man using a primitive drill, but which he called his Black & Decker), eco fridges where the mountain water pours down over the bottles of Coke, Fanta and mineral water.
The way up to the waterfalls is interesting ! Rock smoothed by many pairs of feet over the years make some parts a bit of a challenge. There are streams to leap, ladders to climb. But it is all worthwhile for the views and exhilaration of reaching the top waterfall. The way down is different, a track on the opposite of the valley, with views across to Setti Fatma.
Two and a half hours after we left the village, we are back. Across a different rickety bridge we go, to sit at a table at the riverside for our lunch. In the shade, up in the village in the mountains, it is quite cool – I knew I brought my light down jacket with me for a reason!
Back to Marrakech and that evening another wonderful meal prepared for us by Aisha at the riad.
So many moments to remember, so many happy times……
As we near the foothills the sun starts to burn off the clouds and we see snow covered peaks in the distance. The road begins to twist and turn upwards with roadside stalls selling all manner of objects in wood, metal, pottery. By the side of the road camels are waiting – but we resist stopping and having our photo taken riding one!!
The contrast from the city is great – the landscape is lush in the valley, there are hillside orchards and vegetables growing on terraces. The houses in the Berber villages are built from bricks made from the local red soil, so it feels as if they merge into the mountainside.
As we head up the road beside the Ourika river there are many wonky bridges crossing the river to cafés with brightly coloured tables, chairs and sofas (though not a chaise in sight) set right down by the riverside – in some cases the legs of the tables and chairs in the water.
At the head of the valley we arrive at Setti Fatma, a typical Berber village, surrounded by peaks of the High Atlas. Again the contrast from the city hits me – no dust and souks, but clear air and greenery.
We meet our guide for the trek to the 7 waterfalls and cross the first rickety bridge, then through many stalls with souvenirs (Starrock and I buy little alabaster carvings from a man using a primitive drill, but which he called his Black & Decker), eco fridges where the mountain water pours down over the bottles of Coke, Fanta and mineral water.
The way up to the waterfalls is interesting ! Rock smoothed by many pairs of feet over the years make some parts a bit of a challenge. There are streams to leap, ladders to climb. But it is all worthwhile for the views and exhilaration of reaching the top waterfall. The way down is different, a track on the opposite of the valley, with views across to Setti Fatma.
Two and a half hours after we left the village, we are back. Across a different rickety bridge we go, to sit at a table at the riverside for our lunch. In the shade, up in the village in the mountains, it is quite cool – I knew I brought my light down jacket with me for a reason!
Back to Marrakech and that evening another wonderful meal prepared for us by Aisha at the riad.
So many moments to remember, so many happy times……
Spanishscot and MrsMatisse, as they had already been to Ourika before decided to go looking for jewellery.
We set off for the Place des Ferblantiers, but it wasn’t easy to find it, as nobody in Marrakech seemed to know where it was. We found yet another different route to Djema El Fna and then we argued about which way to go. When we finally got there we discovered that the paving was being done up and the lovely square was a building site.
However, the Kosy Bar was till there and we had a nice lunch on the terrace and watched the storks on the walls of the Badi Palace and the snowy Atlas in the distance.
The search for Berber jewellery paid off. We found the best and most persuasive salesman in Marrakech and after some vigorous haggling we got back home loaded with goodies.
We set off for the Place des Ferblantiers, but it wasn’t easy to find it, as nobody in Marrakech seemed to know where it was. We found yet another different route to Djema El Fna and then we argued about which way to go. When we finally got there we discovered that the paving was being done up and the lovely square was a building site.
However, the Kosy Bar was till there and we had a nice lunch on the terrace and watched the storks on the walls of the Badi Palace and the snowy Atlas in the distance.
The search for Berber jewellery paid off. We found the best and most persuasive salesman in Marrakech and after some vigorous haggling we got back home loaded with goodies.
Day 6. Monday 11th April 2016. The last day
MrsMatisse
A few of us dawdled off to the Museum of Marrakech. It was near, but en route we were enticed by an offer to catch the 'one day only' Berber market. We trudged obediently, a tad excitedly, navigating more and more bike crashed alleys, behind a man clothed in a snowman maxi fleece, confidently akimbo sur le moped.....until we realised we had nearly come full circle. We courageously gave him the slip and proceeded full pelt to the lovely museum. However some of us failed to find what we had been reliably informed were spectacular baths.....the best bit!
We did like the contemporary art works, the M&M tagines, Picasso's veiled women and all that post feminist narrative stuff in pink....and black.
And all the dizzying tiles and the grandeur, the monstrous candlebra, the emerald or blue pots ....and the fountains.
CBT eat your heart out...... 'I decide to be happy because it's good for my health' - Voltaire.
Amen
We did like the contemporary art works, the M&M tagines, Picasso's veiled women and all that post feminist narrative stuff in pink....and black.
And all the dizzying tiles and the grandeur, the monstrous candlebra, the emerald or blue pots ....and the fountains.
CBT eat your heart out...... 'I decide to be happy because it's good for my health' - Voltaire.
Amen
Deelfi
A few thoughts on how I found Marrakech had changed over the week…
Strolling from our riad, up and down the narrow alleyways now seemed perfectly natural. No hesitation on where to turn and which way to go to get to “Chaos Corner”. Dodging the moped, donkeys and carts – or better still walking in a straight line and letting them swerve round you – was now second nature!
The sounds, sights and smells of the souk will always be an assault on the senses, but on this last day they felt quite familiar. I was sad to be leaving them behind.
A few final purchases in the souk – ending with some Berber jewellery to remind me of a wonderful week.
Strolling from our riad, up and down the narrow alleyways now seemed perfectly natural. No hesitation on where to turn and which way to go to get to “Chaos Corner”. Dodging the moped, donkeys and carts – or better still walking in a straight line and letting them swerve round you – was now second nature!
The sounds, sights and smells of the souk will always be an assault on the senses, but on this last day they felt quite familiar. I was sad to be leaving them behind.
A few final purchases in the souk – ending with some Berber jewellery to remind me of a wonderful week.
Spanishscot
On our last day we wanted to go back to the jewellery shop so that the mountain climbers could get their Berber bling and for the first time we decided to follow the street signs to Djema El Fna instead of the usual taking our chances through the souks. Not sure of what happened, but it took twice as long and we ended up in the opposite side of the square, proving that no matter what you do, all roads lead to the Square (eventually). We sat on the terrace of the Café de France for the last time and had pizza for lunch, we all just needed a change from the wonderful spicy food we had all week. Or maybe we were preparing to return to our ordinary lives. We watched the never ending bustle of the square, the acrobats, the snake charmers, the henna tattooists, the wizards in djellabas, with a tinge of sadness.
In the evening a farewell meal in a lovely garden restaurant marked the end of our perfect holiday. Lovely time, lovely place, lovely people. Thank you, friends.
In the evening a farewell meal in a lovely garden restaurant marked the end of our perfect holiday. Lovely time, lovely place, lovely people. Thank you, friends.
Starrock
Awake early in the half light, waiting for the now familiar sound of the first of the day's calls to prayer. The quietness summons reflections on the week, and the paths that have brought the five of us here.
Living geographically spread across England and Scotland, with differing family and work backgrounds. How would the five of us have come to be here together, were it not for a shared fondness of the Guardian Quick Crossword?
Tentative online friendships, the first Gathering in Edinburgh (the fifth will soon be upon us!) leading to real life friendships, and now....five travel to Marrakech. The outcome of a bet between spanishscot and FriedFish and their generosity in sharing the experience of the settling of that bet.
Last day then.
It becomes a full on day...Musée de Marrakech, lunch, purchasing of pottery and jewellery, Palais Bahia and finally, dinner in a fabulous, leafy, garden restaurant lit by beautiful Moroccan lamps and candles.
Another fantastic day in a week to remember.
Living geographically spread across England and Scotland, with differing family and work backgrounds. How would the five of us have come to be here together, were it not for a shared fondness of the Guardian Quick Crossword?
Tentative online friendships, the first Gathering in Edinburgh (the fifth will soon be upon us!) leading to real life friendships, and now....five travel to Marrakech. The outcome of a bet between spanishscot and FriedFish and their generosity in sharing the experience of the settling of that bet.
Last day then.
It becomes a full on day...Musée de Marrakech, lunch, purchasing of pottery and jewellery, Palais Bahia and finally, dinner in a fabulous, leafy, garden restaurant lit by beautiful Moroccan lamps and candles.
Another fantastic day in a week to remember.
Friedfish
Well, That Was The Week That Was, all right.
I have to confess to being a nervous traveller, and was the first to get to Gatwick, (despite an hour's hold up on the M25/23 slip-road and then having to negotiate the off-airport long stay car park).
I just had to get through security and into departures. A text-shot to the group, but not to MrsM. (didn't have her number in my phone.) Awkward relief when she showed up first. (I felt I hardly knew her, and after hello, she made her excuses, and went shopping...)
Next to arrive, SS. fresh off an internal flight. Whew!
I'd been trackin and txtin Starry and Deelfi on their train. Last contact Croydon, so all would be well.
And indeed it was.
FF = Fast Forward
LGW 1 wk l8r.
No need for reassuring texts.
I felt all the sweet sorrow of parting as we hugged, and kissed, and goodbyed.
That was the week that was all right.
(and I still don't have the Matisse's number in my phone!)
I have to confess to being a nervous traveller, and was the first to get to Gatwick, (despite an hour's hold up on the M25/23 slip-road and then having to negotiate the off-airport long stay car park).
I just had to get through security and into departures. A text-shot to the group, but not to MrsM. (didn't have her number in my phone.) Awkward relief when she showed up first. (I felt I hardly knew her, and after hello, she made her excuses, and went shopping...)
Next to arrive, SS. fresh off an internal flight. Whew!
I'd been trackin and txtin Starry and Deelfi on their train. Last contact Croydon, so all would be well.
And indeed it was.
FF = Fast Forward
LGW 1 wk l8r.
No need for reassuring texts.
I felt all the sweet sorrow of parting as we hugged, and kissed, and goodbyed.
That was the week that was all right.
(and I still don't have the Matisse's number in my phone!)