Essaouira and the seemingly longest journey home in the world

Now that I have processed all the hippie commune shock, I remembered a nice anecdote that I completely forgot to mention last time in all the writing frustration and I want to share it with you. One day, we were sitting on the deserted beach with 'our dog'. On the other side of the beach, behind many rocks, a Moroccan family was cooking Tajine (I’m still unsure of how to spell Morocco - please forgive me :P). Suddenly, a guy appeared behind us on the rock with two glasses of tea! He walked all that way just to offer us tea. Incredibly kind! Oh, and I don’t have any new bites, so it’s probably not a flea plague after all. Phew! You can see I'm in a better mood - probably because of Essaouira. Ah, Essaouira - the Moroccan Santorini, as we call it. The hipster city of Morocco. A great conclusion to our journey. The Riad was, as mentioned, really beautiful and pleasant. The entire city was within walking distance, and all the restaurants were super. The city feels a little more western, and for once, you do not only get Tajine to eat. On the first day, we went to a small café run by a Westerner and a Moroccan. They were both about our age and conjured up a real gourmet meal. We then admired the sights of Essaouira, which many of you might also know from Game of Thrones. In the evening, we went to a nice restaurant and again - a real delight! It also rained, which was a huge event again. The streets were flooded and since everything isn’t quite watertight, there were puddles of water everywhere in the Riad. Overall, it was a bit cloudier and cooler in Essaouira but nothing compared to what awaits us in Switzerland. Unfortunately, on the second day, Näthu’s back pain got worse, which is why he spent the first half of the last vacation day in bed. While that was happening, I set out to find a pharmacy to buy some medication. I have never seen so many pharmacies in such a small area in my life. But not a single one of those pharmacies was open. Eventually, about 30 minutes away from the city center, I found an open pharmacy, but they only sold creams and band-aids. The pharmacist then told me to go to 'Pharmacy Principale'. Although Google Maps stated that the pharmacy was permanently closed, I actually found medication there - after two hours! The pharmacy was 4 minutes from our Riad. Bravo. This way, we could start the afternoon and explore the city a bit more. The markets are a balm for the soul compared to Marrakech. The vendors were all super friendly, not at all pushy, and really fair. We bought a teapot and glasses because we want to continue the tea tradition for our guests (you are always welcome to stop by for a glass! (Correction: the teapot has since broken)). At the airport, we were even taken out because of the teapot. The policeman inspected the teapot with confusion and skepticism and then said, 'Aaaaaah, it's very very old.' And that’s exactly what we wanted. In the evening, we went to the sweetest restaurant ever and were able to end our journey wonderfully. Essaouira is truly charming and everything is slower, more relaxed, and much more western than in Marrakech. You also see many more women working in the tourist areas here, and most do not wear head coverings. The little town is super cozy, and the people are very, very nice. Today we set off for Marrakech. First, I drove, then Näthu again. Marrakech is far from the chill Essaouira and already costs me 1000 heart attacks as a passenger. We were glad when we could return the car without any incident. The car did have a small scratch (probably a parking damage), but since we had fully comprehensive insurance, it was no problem and we didn’t have to pay anything. We arrived at the airport on time (3.5 hours early). Unfortunately, our flight isn't as punctual as we are, and now we have to hope that we make it in time for the last train, which is supposed to arrive in Bern at 1 am. Keep your fingers crossed for us! At least we had some luck with the luggage today. Our suitcase was 2kg overweight due to all the moist, wet clothes and purchases. In EasyJet language, that’s half a fortune. When we told the guy at the counter that we would open the suitcase and move things into our carry-on, he thought it was too tedious and waived the fee for us. I would have loved to unpack our (now broken) teapot and offered the guy a glass. Cheers, and until next time!

This is where the blog entry was supposed to end. I was so proud of this rounded, what I think is a literarily brilliant conclusion. But things turned out differently than expected. We still caught the last train despite the delay and even had a nice chat with two women, one from Bern and one from near Fribourg, whom we met on the plane. When all the travelers left the train car, we stepped out and wanted to board the train to Bern. However, it was somehow not shown anywhere, and all the track information was wrong. Then we realized that we didn’t alight in Lausanne but one station earlier. So there we were, completely perplexed, at a quarter to twelve at night in Renens in our summer dresses, realizing that we had just gotten off our only way home. Bravo. The first option that came to our minds was a taxi from Lausanne to Bern, which would not have been cheap. Luckily, the friend of one lady offered to pick us up in Lausanne. So we had to wait an hour, and on a Monday night not many establishments are open after midnight. In the end, we found ourselves in front of a pub in Lausanne that was about to close, and the lovely ladies managed to charm the bartender into letting us sit at the bar while he cleaned up and closed. So there we sat at half-past one on a Monday night in probably the biggest dive in Lausanne, sipping our beers. Then the friend showed up with a super small VW Golf that only had front doors and of course didn’t have enough space for all the suitcases. As we were squashed together like sardines in the Golf with our luggage, we felt like we were back in Morocco. The car was so fully loaded that depending on the terrain it was hitting the ground. However, it ran, which was good. Then we were trapped in an apparently endless loop of highway exits and entrances. Due to all the construction sites in Lausanne, we couldn’t find the right highway entrance to Bern and kept turning around in weird places. We were roaming somewhere in the dark streets of Lausanne's suburbs and I asked the ladies in the car if we were somehow part of a very elaborate criminal scheme. Maybe they were smuggling drugs in our luggage and now wanted to elegantly dispose of us. But they were not drug dealers; they were lawyers - quite nice ones on top of that. Despite the somewhat annoying circumstances, we had a great time and laughed a lot (overtiredness and beer are always an explosive mix). In Murten, the Fribourg woman and her boyfriend dropped us off, and the three of us continued with a taxi towards Bern. The Bernese woman called a taxi driver she knew who agreed to pick us up at 2:45 am in Murten at an abandoned McDonald's. What a lifesaver! 30 minutes later, we managed to finally get home safe and sound. So our journey did not end resource-efficiently, but it was all the more worth telling and perhaps even with new friends gained. One thing is for sure: if anyone ever asks us how we met, we have a great story ready.

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Game of Thrones backdrop