I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship

This is my last working day in Casablanca and I feel like crying. Why is there 'good' in goodbye? What's good about it? I am not good at goodbyes at all.

Since arriving in late January I have developed an addiction to couscous and the fresh vegetables from the market. I've learned to speak a few words of Arabic and the people in my local bakery seem to be so impressed that they now treat me like a star. And I've learned to appreciate a good haggle. What do you mean you have fixed prices?

Surely I have complained about the chaotic traffic, the exhaust fumes from cars that make breathing difficult, the cold floors and breaks in electricity in my apartment, the men who harass me on the streets. But today people actually gave me way in the hectic morning rush hour traffic and I swear that the honking of the horns had a more friendlier sound. When was the last time I have received this many compliments from the strangers in the streets? The guy yesterday evening; il me dit que je suis belle.

I have not had enough time to do half of the things I planned to do or go to places I wanted to go. I was lazy and thought there would be time. I don't know what happened, I was busy making other plans.

I know this is not a goodbye but see you later. A part of my heart will always beat for Morocco and the wonderful people I have had the privilege to get to know. I hope I will be coming back.

A soppy post indeed.

--
PS For some great photos of Morocco, check drewnoakes' flickr site

Out of Africa

"There is something about safari life that makes you forget all your sorrows and feel as if you had drunk half a bottle of champagne - bubbling over with heartfelt gratitude for being alive."
-Karen Blixen-

I wish I had a farm in Africa.

Perks of the job

Unlike many people, I do not dislike travelling by air or indeed airports. I admit there are many airports which would be great candidates for "pimp my airport" show on MTV. But mostly I am just intrigued by all the fellow passengers. Where are they all going and why? You always recognise the people going for a holiday and the honeymooners, people travelling in business and so on. But then there are lot of people whose appearance does not tell you anything at all. Why is that wrinkled 90 year old lady travelling from London to Prague? Does she live there? And why is that pregnant woman travelling alone? Where is her husband? Does she have a husband? Is she fit to fly? When is her baby due? And what on earth is that man carrying in that strangely shaped box? So many untold stories!

Friends of mine who do not have similar kind of job to mine where international travel is needed say they envy me for being able to do that. I have not been able to fully convince them yet that in most cases business travel is highly overrated. You might be going to a far away, exotic destination, but if all you see is the airport and couple of meeting rooms, you could practically be anywhere. Then there are the connecting flights you miss, the lost luggage, the jet lags you suffer and the 12 hour flights when you are seated next to a person whose personal hygiene leaves a lot to be hoped for. Envy that?

Of course there are perks too. This time it's the actual destination in the heart of Africa, Kenya. It's a long way to go, but the photo I have of our end destination somehow tells me it's all going to be very good. No complaints!

You can call me stupid cow

Everyone who knows me, knows that I love cows. And that I would like to have one. A real one, that is.

But I found something almost just as good, and maybe a little bit more realistic a couple of years ago on a trip to Brighton, UK when I visited a lovely artist led gallery and studio called Two Kats and a Cow. The gallery belongs to painters Katty McMurray, Kathryn Matthews and John Marshall.

John is the Cow Man. He creates these amazing cow paintings which are so fascinating and manage to capture that very essence of being a cow. Or what I imagine being a cow would be like. You know what I mean, I'm sure.

I have not have the honor to meet the Cow Man himself but anyone who can create the cow paintings like he does is very high on my list of people I would like to meet. The dinner would be on me and I am sure we would share an interesting discussion about these wonderfully laidback creatures.

One day I hope to have Buster, Rosamund or any other of these lovely creatures staring back at me from the wall.

Being in Morocco right now and seeing the old fashion way of transportation of goods on the streets every day, I am quickly developing a similar fascination for donkeys. Anyone know a donkey painter?

My Visual DNA - What's yours?

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Think Orange!

It's been a wonderfully sunny and warm week in Casablanca and I can sense the summer being just behind the corner. I love summer. And these gorgeous pieces which not only bring the sunshine in but put a smile on your face. The Pony chair is a classic by my favourite Finnish designer Eero Aarnio. And I would love to have this rug called Snooze by Swedish designers Stefan Borselius and Fredrik Mattson. It can be found from Scandinaviandesign.com. Here comes the sun!

I went to heaven

Coming back from a recent business trip I was waiting for my flight at the Barcelona airport. Similarly to books and reading, music has always been a big part of my life and I have always been fascinated how music can change the ambiance in your home. So not surprisingly I was browsing through the cd shelves when I found one with such a beautiful cover I was compelled to have it. I did not know about the artist but my blind trust to the cover didn't fail to deliver.

The album is called No promises by Carla Bruni. Apparently she is a former model and her beauty is definately more than skin deep. Not only is the album pretty but the tunes capture you from the first note. The lyrics are poems by late poets such as William Butler Yeats, Dorothy Parker and Emily Dickinson, like the one below.

Trust me, this is one to get. Then, on a day when you are feeling a little sad, light a candle, turn off the lights, have a class of red if you like and let her serene voice carry you to a different world.

I went to heaven, -

'Twas a small town,

Lit with a ruby,

Lathed with down.

Stiller than the fields

At the full dew,

Beautiful as pictures

No man drew.

People like the moth,

Of mechlin, frames,

Duties of gossamer,

And eider names.

Almost contented

I could be

'Mong such unique

Society.

I dedicate this post to Mirva, a mother of two boys and the wife of my cousin. She died in a tragic house fire three weeks ago. Today is the day of her funeral.