35) Special Edition: Marrakech Express
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I’m in Morocco! A place I’ve always wanted to go, and here I am, finally made it.
The flight to Marrakech was unexpectedly boisterous with lively non-stop chatter and uproarious laughter coming from the rows of seats around me. It felt like a plane to Las Vegas; they always have this manic, happy-party vibe in the passengers. Very different than the return legs out of Vegas which are subdued, depleted and hungover affairs. The Morocco bound plane ruckus accentuated my alone-ness, it seemed everyone had people with them except me.
It wasn’t until after I’d been scrutinized by stern, suspicious officials and left the airport that I really felt the exhilaration of being somewhere new. I’m one of those types I call a noticer—except I have an investigative detective level of observance and noticing skills. Marrakech has a lot to notice. I was in notice-stuff heaven. I’ve written about picking up a given person’s energy and have the same intuitive impressions about cities. Either a place clic…
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