Rocky Beach and the Smell of Fish
After being jet propelled by taxi we arrived safety in the town of Larache, which is actually larger than I was lead to believe and seems to sprawl pretty far beyond the bus station.
This town has a long history, but the forts left by the 16th century Portuguese and the old barrio left by the 17th century Spanish are crumbling into the ocean or being swallowed by the dirt and trash.
So it feels more modern than historic, with current Arab architecture resting against the plazas, which rest against the ocean, which rest against the sky.
It is a quiet town, and there is much less aggressive street hustling. Everyone seems friendly, not being too pushy about what they are selling (of course they are selling something, a mans got to eat). They don't get upset if you don't want to buy it. Still smiling they invite you to their table to drink some tea. It is a nice change of pace.
I had tea twice today.
The ocean against the town is rocky and doesn't really have a swim able beach. The town shows it's discontent for this inconvenience by cascading trash down the hill towards the rocks, as if the ocean was a famous soccer player who just missed the winning goal.
The closest sandy beach can seen from the plazas above and requires a short fishing boat ride across the port.
There are many open air markets in Larache. We were told that some of the best fish in Morocco is from this town.
The smell can be overwhelming for the weak stomached, which I still was, so the open air market was not well explored.
Larache is on the Atlantic ocean, so the westward facing sunsets are something to behold, and though it was cloudy, the brilliant colors of red and pink poured from behind giving the clouds plenty of stage to make elaborate colorful shadow puppets.
As I sat and watched the colors blend from dull to pastel, I felt Laney's spirit beside me, drinking an entire bottle of malbec wine and smiling wide, with extra red lips.