Moroccan Meandering with Lauren Hill
From the eyes and in the words of Lauren Hill:
Gypsying travelers began flocking to Morocco in the 1960s and 70s on the ‘hippie trail’ of shoestring budgets – to revel amongst exotic flavors, pumping surf and vibrant textiles.
I traveled to Morocco for pretty much the same reasons; it’s the kind of place whose name alone conjures a mysterious cloud of rolling Saharan sand dunes, magical metal lanterns and spice infused tanginess.
With its psychedelic, geometric art and architecture, culinary fusions and rugged land and seascapes, Morocco guarantees a sensuous foray into the coalescence of Arabic, European and African cultures.
Another groomed line-up with no one in sight
A little rock face hideaway with quite the view
Beach treasures, Moroccan style
Camels are pretty wild creatures. I didn't appreciate how tall they really are until this one started to stand up!
Dave (Rastovich) turns into the howling wind
Market spice stacks
Moroccan misty mountain top
Sunsets are real good here
Morocco is still the kind of place where plenty of waves go undridden
Post surf coziness
Quaint little fishing village we had to walk through to surf
Speed racing seagull
Stiff offshores blew almost constantly, grooming peeling point waves
Sunrise over Tagahazout
The harsh, arid climate makes for creative problem solving. Here a local fisherman emerges from his ocean front, sea cliff nestled abode
The many shapes and varied hues of coastal Moroccan architecture
The nomadic Berber folk are Morocco's indigenous. They set up gypsy-like camps along the coastline, always with first burning, and sell cooked mussels along the roadside
Watch your step!
Wind whipped early morning seascape