We arrived in Rabat. The road made me a bit nauseous; my mom is holding up like a champ.
The atmosphere here is completely different — calmer, and you barely see any foreigners. The sun is out, the muezzin is calling, everything’s cheaper. After touristy Chefchaouen, the contrast is real.
I’m trying to get my mom into keeping a travel journal. It’s actually pretty therapeutic — writing things down while they’re still vivid. She seems willing so far; we’ll see how long that lasts.
