Marrakech

Sixteen years ago tonight, I boarded the Moroccan Railways (ONCF) night train from Tangier Ville to Marrakech, a city I never quite left in my imagination. Departing at 9 pm in a four-berth shared couchette, it was a far cry from the Oriental Desert Express featured in Spectre. Still, there was something deeply romantic about riding into the red desert under cover of night and waking up 571 kilometres to the south with the sun rising majestically over the Atlas Mountains.

After yesterday’s great maritime adventure, which concluded with some of the best pizza in modern history at Bulldog Kitchen, today has been far less eventful. A short Active Learning Classroom (ALC) safari in the morning was followed by an hour of light weight training at Nordic Wellness Olskroken. With my running on hold, I am thankful to have no fever or other symptoms beyond the red rash – “erythema migrans,” assuming it is indeed Lyme disease. Either way, taking it easy for now feels like the wise thing to do.