Second Time Around

Our journey began back in June after the holy month of Ramadan. We had been invited to my elder sister in laws house for an Eid meal. As we were eating from the array of dishes prepared, our brother in law casually said ‘we are going to hire a villa, and we will all go on holiday together.’ After this utterance there was a brief exchange of possible options and excitement was apparent on the face of my middle sister in law. The conversation then altered and we discussed another subject.

July passed, now and again we would discuss destinations, accommodation and how we would take care of our Mum (mother in law in my case.) On her intermittent visits my youngest sister in law would enquire of progression (she was the first to book her annual leave.) On one such visit in mid August, she discovered a villa which would suffice for all of us and it was in Morocco.

Admittedly, I had been reluctant and my mind was considering a variety of different options.

However my daughter, was beaming with joy at the thought of going on a holiday. As everyone is aware once children are informed of something they are incessant until this comes to fruition. Part of me regretted deeply that I had been so forth coming in agreeing that we would be part of the expedition.

Our brother in law was definite in his decision and determined that we should embark on this escapade. Once we all agreed flights were researched and booked. The majority of us were booked on earlier flights with Ryan Air whilst two of my sister in laws remained behind and booked with Thomas Cook.

Thus began the best part. I began thinking of clothes my children would wear. My mind engaged in how we would split meals. Activities were booked and cancelled. More activities were looked at.

Throughout this time I supplicated for everything to be smooth. Having anxiety at times was difficult but with the aid of Allah I was able to overcome this. Whilst my daughter was counting down the days I felt nothing, no eagerness no excitement. In some ways this worked in my favor as having expectations can often lead to disappointment.

The weekend prior to leaving a family friend sadly passed away. The somber atmosphere in their home was a reminder that all this is temporary. I contemplated the juxtaposition of the situation. This made me increase in gratitude knowing that the opportunity presented before me may not be there again.

The time arrived for our holiday. Cousins arrived from Birmingham. The weekend was filled with last minute shopping, cooking, cleaning and a surprise for myself

Opening the presents made me fill with joyful delight. The gifts were thoughtful. Even though there was a toddler crying in my lap it did not take away from the happiness I felt. It was not just because of the presents but rather the honour of being in someone’s thoughts that they would give ME such extravagant gifts. The night before leaving we did checks of the suitcases. There was frivolity in the house as references to Home Alone were made.

Our flight was 12:20. My day began at 4am. I wanted to get a head start on preparing food. Alas! My toddler awoke so after devouring my beloved cereal I tended to her. Our hallway was lit up, feeling warm and cosy. By the time I came downstairs I could smell the scent of onions being fried for our breakfast meal. The previous night it was decided that we would have batt-biran (a meal made with gulteneous rice, fried leaving a sticky consistency.) I was unable to stomach this. Our car was due to arrive at 6:45 am. The flights were from Liverpool John Lennon Airport. My husband had factored in traffic. As is customary we wanted to allow ourselves 2 hours before the flight. Check in had been completed online however we took precautions as we were travelling with those young’uns.

We travelled in two cars with the majority of us travelling in the mini van. At the airport our suitcases were checked. My two girls tried really hard with their mini suitcases but my youngest (in all her cuteness) struggled leaving her father to carry it. Whilst waiting for the gate to open we took a few photos. It had not hit me even then that we were going on holiday.

We embarked on the plane. Seats were changed. There was momentary chaos around our area but we sat down. Our flight Alhumdulillah was on time.

The journey on the plane was also the best it can be. Thankfully there were no tantrums from my youngest daughter.

We arrived in Morocco. The moment we disembarked from the plane the hot air enveloped me. I questioned my choice of attire but knew that the heat I felt would be for a short time as once we went through check in I would be on transfer to the villa. I was exhausted by this point. Although the short time spent sleeping on the plane helped.

I remembered the colour of the bullildings from the last time I visited. A little excitement came over me knowing that I could utilise my French. We went through customs and we all wanted one thing which was water.

After exiting the car we entered the villa. The men left us to do some shopping (not an easy feat.) I had thought ahead and carried noodles. It’s no fuss and kids generally eat it with no qualms.

The first day the men and boys ventured out to the city whilst the women remained behind. Their job was to find excursions. The children used the pool and we enjoyed the villa in all it’s entirety. It was unanimously agreed that the villa was a great space.

It was on this day that my other sister in laws arrived. A few of us headed to the souks or the rather the infamous Jema Al Fanaa. We walked in the darkness down a winding road and hailed a taxi. Once we arrived there I recalled some previous memories of the last time I came. The aroma from the stalls still remained untempting to myself. The souks had changed there was not the hustle and bustle from before. The boys directed us and we asked prices for a few items. Everything looked colourful and intricate. Pottery was displayed in all sizes and different patterns. Plates reminded me of the past visit. Tagines in various sizes in the stalls called out too. The lanterns were the most appealing to the eye.

The next day we went on an expedition. I was apprehensive about this having a little one but my husband provided me with reassurance. It began at 10:15. Verily after Hardship comes ease. This trip was difficult for my husband as he had to carry Amanah. There were a few other members of our family who struggled. With great help from each other we ALL accomplished and achieved to complete the trek. Views were breathtaking. My niece and I conversed and drew upon Islamic stories of the Prophets. Here we had a concrete example of Allahs manifestation of talent. I was still taken a back by shops that were integrated within the crevices of the mountain. The guide also pointed us to the village of Fatma who I assumed was the equivalent of someone renound. We then had lunch, followed by a trip to the Berber villages. This time the stalls were more structured almost akin to the layout of Shipley Glen in good old Yorkshire! The simplicity of a nomadic life made me reflect on the superficialities of our lives. In nature we were tested but we enjoyed the greenery, running streams and magnificent waterfalls.

Then some us went on camels. Children enjoyed this. My husband was able to reenact an Ertugul moment by riding a horse dressed in Moroccan attire and adourning a Keffiyeh.

After facing a few dilemmas (and some tears) the next day (my birthday) we visited the famous Palais Namaskar. On entry one could feel the tranquility of the place. The day was spent for me drawing comparisons between the beauty of this architectural glory and the beauty promised by Allah. On this day I was elated and experienced emotions I had forgotten existed within myself. There were no disruptions and thoughts were uninterrupted. The structure of the building boasted of traditional Moroccan design combined with Indian features. The walls however did not have the geometric mosaic rather they were plain but against the natural back drop no decoration was needed. Through our the day I remembered pieces from various lectures. Mudhamataan (green.) An ayah from Surah Ar-Rahman repeatedly entered my mind. Being surrounded by the gardens in all of its palatial expanse enabled me to think of Jannah. At this point I want to implore my Lord and ask that we are all given an easy questioning on Yamul Qiyamah and given the highest stations of Jannah. Ameen.

We spent an entire day in this space-not leaving until the evening.

Friday we went into the pool. The water was not as warm as I expected but once I began swimming I was fine. The children had had a dip and thereby became our life guards. I was often given warnings and told not to splash. In the afternoon we went quad biking. I revelled in this experience. There was something amazing about driving through terrain. The best part was praying Maghrib in the desert. When we returned once again we went to the souks. This time I looked at the variety of hijabs and was determined to find some miel (French for honey.) Fabrics were everywhere. Rugs woven from authentic wool that je voudrais acheter mais ce n’est pas possible!

On the Saturday our sister in laws departed. After lunch we ALL yes all 13 of us went to the souks. It was a 4 hour venture. We entered and left stalls. J’utiliser mon Francois quelque fois. A sentence I used was ‘il n’est pas besoin de sac je suis desolee.’ This time it was more like the previous visit with the open market. The delicacy of the patterns woven on bags, furnishings and even inter grated on lamps. We prayed in Koutoubia which was absolutely wonderful although we were confused about the commencement of salaah. There was a quaint atmosphere filled with sakinah at that time, I felt it. After performing our prayers we all had dinner. Most of us opted for a KFC (personally not a fan of the Tagine and Couscous.) We all returned and retired for sleep.

The final day started with breakfast on the terrace. The remaining time we spent cooking, cleaning and having a final dip in the pool. The children were put to bed early knowing our flight was early the next day. We all wanted to ensure that nothing and more importantly no one was left behind. The evening meal was prepared by the men and the usual discussion of having things easy on holiday was had (a regular part of our holiday conversations.)

The day of departure commenced at dawn. There was no water so we had to use the water boiled from the previous day- Alhumdulillah we had this. We performed our Fajr prayer. The car arrived, last minute checks were done and we all left for the airport. After going through the necessary checks and making sure all of our family members were on the plane we embarked on the journey home. As we ascended into the air I reflected on the ayah from the Surah Ar-Rahman فَبِأَيِّ آلَاءِ رَبِّكُمَا تُكَذِّبَانِ

Which then of the bounties of your Lord will you deny?

The answer. None I cannot deny any favour.

From the breath I take,

to the food I make, to the language I speak, for the ability to seek- for the ability to explore, for the desire to travel more.

I fly above the clouds

I know inevitably I will be in a shroud.

Just like the soft cloud I am now above it will be white.

Should I not do good with my sight?

It’s possible to have this life and the akhirah

The success is embedded in our Ibadah.

I bid you adieu.