Leaving Morocco

My last night in my old medina riad was very special. I climbed to the roof top garden and sprawled out on a lounge chair and took in the warm night breeze. Around 10 PM the nearby mosque filled with worshippers one more time and their thick chanting percolated into the night air. Eventually I wandered back into my sweet little room, wrapped myself in a light sheet and slept. In the morning I walked out to the main square and bought one more 3 dirham glass of orange juice, slowly savored the last bits of Moroccan nectar, packed my bags and caught a taxi to the airport. I'd booked a flight to Paris on EasyJet which is kind of the Southwest Airlines of Europe with no assigned seating, etc. I feared it would be a bit of a zoo, but it worked just fine.
The flight was filled with French people--suddenly the veils and headscarves were gone and I entered a very different world.