You know what a pool looks like, but anyway, that's ours, with our huge "tent" in the centre background.
The Auberge and the pool
What actually happened that very first day had slipped my mind, until I read my notes a moment ago.
After an evening on the pop the night before we flew, JR had ended up foregoing the pool bit. On entering our large tent, he immediately flopped down onto his bed, and promptly fell asleep for several hours.
It was actually just myself, JRB, Mark and Dave who donned our Speedos and enjoyed a bracing dip in the pool (20”C) before enjoying Casablanca beer, then lunch.
It was still only 1:00pm. What a long day it had been, already.
Fresh salad, mixed brochettes and lamb Tagine, all washed down with a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon was a fine way to begin our holiday.
A lazy afternoon followed. Much to my approval, being a bit of a Francophone, I couldn’t help noticing just how French this place was. It’s French owned & managed, of course.
For most of the day, French families with young children lined the poolside, only leaving to enjoy a long civilised lunch break just after midday. (we found out afterwards – it happened to be French school holidays – the place was much quieter on our return a week later)
Despite being very much an Islamic country, there was no problem with sunbathing here, in this closed, private environment. Semi-naked, bronzed bodies of all shapes and sizes adorned the chairs and poolside loungers.
It had been an easy flight, but only after a long, hard day’s night. So after lunch, my group of hard roughie-toughie bikers, all went to bed and fell asleep lik elittle babies.
I sat by the pool, writing these observations for posterity, while listening to Fish’s new album, “13th Star” on my iPod.
I find a tour diary can make great reading some years down the line. It’s also a good way of recording little details that otherwise get lost in the mists of time.
We had all wanted to go into Marrakech, to see the sights. But in all honesty we just couldn’t be bothered right now. We had just left the UK, where a pleasant Indian Summer, was finally giving way to temperatures tumbling down to near freezing point. In fact it was minus 2C when we returned to Manchester the following week.
But instead, here we were in North Africa beneath a crystal clear blue sky, temperatures up to around 30 degrees C (so not too hot), with a nice pool, surrounded by some nice French eye-candy in bikinis. Why make the long trek into a busy bustling burka'd city, when it’s just great right here.
Thanks to Thomson Fly’s “24 hour flight bonus” we’re enjoying an extra day we never expected to have.
A perfect excuse to just “chill out” for a day.
This is a very relaxing start indeed. I bet it doesn't last.