We're excited to be on the road, on our way to Fez (or Fes) in Morocco. We pass a lush countryside of poppies, prickly pear trees, olive trees, and finally arrive in the "Medina," or old city, which was named an UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1981.
We're staying at a Moroccan Riad in the Medina, which used to be an estate owned by the wealthiest citizens, merchants and courtiers. Today most Riads have been converted into boutique hotels or guesthouses.
For us, the Riad is an oasis, a living space that separates you from the other tourists, people trying to sell you things, and/or motorbikes. In the summer the Riad is cool (with no need for AC).
Imagine a regular looking wooden door which opens into a garden courtyard, replete with a fountain, swimming pool, fruit trees and birds which fly overhead--in short, it's a luxurious outdoor space that is both private and breathtaking.
Theo, our gangster cat, immediately loves the Riad. When he hears the birds tweeting, he is fixated, adopting his usual stalkerish behavior because as he meows to me, "I'm a cat, Mom."
He's also determined from the get go to sniff his way around. Where we are easily lost, as we move through exterior to interior places, trying to find the stairs that will lead us to our bedroom, Theo seems to know the way.
"Where are we?" I whisper to Dan.
Theo magically appears.
"Follow Theo," Dan suggests.
Sure enough, he knows the stairs to take, the rooms to cross, and even the elevator which will take us to the right hallway. Our bedroom is as big as some small apartments in New York City. There is a sleeping area, a sitting area, and enormous bathroom and even a small space that opens up so you can look down to the pool and admire the intricate tile work on the walls.
As we eat lunch and then relax upstairs, Theo wanders. I suspect he's making a map in his head of the best way to negotiate the space. He can't get lost, but he can remain hidden for hours.
Tell me a cat who can live inside and yet still stalk birds?
"We're only here for a few days," I tell him later in the evening.
He gives me own of those head tilts as if he can't quite believe the bad news I'm telling him. If we were to vote on it--stay here or continue our tour of Morocco, I know what Theo would vote for--I can imagine his paw in the air voting, waving his answer.
The best part is the magnificent view of Fez from the patio on the second floor. Priceless. But for Theo, his view of a bird careening through the air is much more alluring. And priceless.
