But first. . . Happy Independence Day, Morocco!
We were in Casablanca for a few days, and are back “home” in Marrakech for a few more before we head back to Rome. . . and from there, over the next week and a bit we’ll be making our way back home (a few more stops along the way, but brief ones — you’ll see).
My travel energy has flagged considerably, and a bit of gastro disruption hasn’t helped, nor have the bouts of insomnia. Pretty predictable for me as I approach another transition with the attendant check-ins and line-ups and border controls and luggage limits.
Luckily, I have a few hacks to keep me grounded — chief among those might be guided breathing exercises and/or meditations (I like Insight Timer where I’ve bookmarked some favourite Yoga Nidras and also have a rotation of Yoga with Adriene seated meditation videos that I’ve been known to do at 2:30 in the morning. (I also try, each day, to do a short practice from her Monthly Calendar).
Writing — here or in my travel journal; Sketching; Walking; Afternoon naps or afternoon reading breaks; Snapping photos; Walking and snapping photos; Snapping photos while walking. . . .and then there is, so my photo archive shows, the important practice of Snapping Photos of Cats While Walking. To clarify, that would be me walking, not the cats. So might be better to phrase this “Snapping Photos, While Walking, of Cats” . . . or “While Walking, Snapping Photos of Cats.
Too much palaver. After all, we have cats to see here. . .
This napper (il gatto acciambellato, if you remember this dough-nutty post) doesn’t care that Marrakech is known as “The Red City,” but you might see here how it got that moniker.
Apparently, motor-scooter seats are quite well designed for feline comfort. Also, this calico beauty’s tongue puts me in mind of a Botero sculpture that I saw in Rome this summer and haven’t shown you yet. Later. . .
That this regal black fellow so confidently assumes a perch on a Mercedes might speak to the special regard in which cats are held in Islam. (Here’s a charming personal account of how Islam helped a teenager’s mother overcome her fear of cats so that he could bring one home during lockdown.)
Just by the by, did you know that someone who loves cats is an “ailurophile” (from the Greek word for cat, “ailuro,” apparently). That’s a new word for me — and I have a daughter who fits the label. . .
They’re always found where someone might offer them a bite or two . . . my ailurophile daughter says she very much appreciates that she garners no scowls if she drops a morsel for a patient kitty in Muslim countries.
Honestly, I almost suspected this sweetheart might have a begging bowl nearby, so aware did she seem to be of her photogenic strength in this composition — she did gather a crowd! (So perhaps she got a commission in treats from the vendor 😉
I was impressed by this tabby’s colour-paletting — doesn’t s/he match that doorway well? (although yes, it could do with a tidy).
Someone has left a small snack for this pretty calico. . .
And here’s another Calico. . .
Paul got me to stand near these kittens, but he’d put the camera away by the time they all arrived — Six tiny gingers, all drawn to a bowl of food being dispensed by an Ailurophile at the seaside (looking over to the majestic Hassan II mosque.
A tabby on one of the city’s ubiquitous Docker motorbikes . . .
That’s all I have for you right now. Oh, unless you care to see the sketching I did on the terrace this morning. . .
Yesterday’s sketch on the left; today’s on the right. . . both are in a Hahnemuhle concertina sketchbook (known in Italian as un leporello — imagine a hare zig-zagging 😉
Zooming in . . . the “continuous line” sketch was drawn over a collaged bit of napkin from a café in the quartier — you can see the Selfie photo I sketched from here.
Then Zoom out for text. . .
Ok, that’s it. Off to read a Thursday Murder Club book in the sunshine. (Rain and temperatures in the low teens Celsius are in my near future, so I’d better enjoy this (moderate) heat while I can!)
Looking forward to comments from ailurophiles and ailurophobes and ailuro-indifferents alike. . .
xo,
f
What an interesting trip! Colours,atmospheric photos,one could almost feel “odori e sapori”. Please,could you write about moroccan kitchen,when you’ll have time?
I’ve learned a new word-interesting,never noticed it before
Cats and dogs were part of my life and I loved them very,very much,but am not interested in other cats,love to see the photos though
Have a stress-free return journey!
Dottoressa
Great photos! I love cats and have had numbers of them live with me, like you I enjoy photographing the resident cats when travelling. However for many years I have lived near a main road which is not safe for them. So we started to keep dogs when the kids were young and I slowly became a dog lover. When we by chance adopted a rescue saluki (Arabian gazelle hound) I realised that we had hit the jackpot. A cat in a dog’s body. Regarded by the Bedouin as a gift from heaven they are seen a ‘royal dogs’ and have a different status to other dogs in some parts of the Islamic world. We are now with our third saluki and in UK terms they certainly have the same level of entitlement as the average old Etonian. They will from time to time condescend to ‘obey’ a command, are fiercely attached to their caregivers if they think you’re up to scratch and have the grace and elegance of ……a cat.
I’ve met few ailuro-indifferents, cats seem to have a polarizing quality. Be well as you begin the trip home.
I confess to being a bit of a gattara so these are nice to see.
Your self-portrait has a nice sort of pentimento effect (and I must make more of an effort to remember which one is pentimento and which one palimpsest because I have to look it up every time…).
I don’t suffer from insomnia but I do let my fear of oversleeping on an early travel day cloud my last bit of time in a place. To call it fear is a grand overstatement but everything in me revolts against having a long list of things to wake up early and do at the last minute, on a deadline, while relying on a taxi to be where and when it should be. (Ha ha years after we split, an ex told me I could be a ‘bit of a control freak’ oh ha ha ha yes, well, yes.)