I had been pleading with Mum and Dad for years to come and visit me while I was off living abroad. Dad has run a successful hands on business in Melbourne for the past thousand years and getting away was always difficult. As it is a family business Mum has always been very involved as well. However, this year was the year of the big R - Retirement year. I told them under no circumstances were they not going to travel the 30 hours from Australia to Morocco and share its wonders with me. I sourced cheap tickets for them both and told them to spend my part of the inheritance. It was time for Nev and Ron to dip their toes in the Atlantic.
I almost died of shock when they informed that they would actually be visiting me. I guess Morocco was a place they were always going to have to come to, after all, this is the country that stole their youngest child and only daughter who obviously has no plans on returning to Australia anytime soon.
So then what? Now I had to figure out how on earth I was going to preoccupy my Mum and Dad for 3 weeks. I did what I always do when confronted with a challenging situation. I wrote list, after list, after list. What sights to see, where to eat, where to shop, the lists went on and on and on!
Mum and Dad arrived a few days before my birthday and I was beside myself with excitement. I boarded the train to Casa and made sure I had enough to do for the 3-4 hour journey. Well that 3-4 hour journey became a 6 hour journey as there was some sort of trouble with another train. All passengers were offered a warm soft drink on an already hot day and told to wait, which we did.
Finally I arrived at the airport ten minutes late. In that 10 minutes Mum had already paid a guy 20 dirham to call and see where I was. They were looking extremely wide eyed when they saw me. They experienced customs first hand - shouting, queue jumping, shoving, and honestly just wanted to get out of the airport, quick smart.
We made a quick exit and spent out first night in Casablanca. Like the A1 tourist guide that I am we ate Italian in the hotel restaurant on our first night in Casablanca.
Upon arriving in Marrakech Dad was greeted with a 'Bonjour' on the street. Still a little jet lagged he shouted after me. "Hey, that man is saying something to me!" "What did he say, Dad?" I replied. "Bonjour?" Dad said. "Ugh, he's saying G'day!" I informed him. "Oh, righto!" Happy with that explanation we merrily continued to my apartment.
I didn't realise what a work out my arabic (however minimal) would get when Mum and Dad were here. To them I sounded like I was speaking fluently and they were extremely proud that their little girl could converse with the locals, give taxi drivers a hard time and make sure they didn't starve.
We took a little break from Morocco and flew to Italy at the start of my school holidays. Mum and Dad loved Rome and were amazed by the history of it all. For me better than all that was seeing Mum standing slap bang in the middle of a city she had learnt about all those years ago at her little catholic primary school in Melbourne and since then had wanted to visit.
England was great and luckily for Dad it was when Ponting resigned from his captaincy of the Australian cricket team. He felt very lucky as he was able to read an english paper and get the latest news. Also, he won't admit this but as I was dragging Mum up and down Oxford Street he was sitting back in the B&B watching all the soaps he gives Mum heaps about back home for watching. Every day when we would return we would get information on what scam the Dingles were pulling in Emmerdale or what was happening in the Vic on Eastenders.
After our week long jaunt in Europe is was time to return to Morocco. I was pleased about this because I wanted to take Mum and Dad to Essaouira, my favorite place (for many reasons) in Morocco. There we experienced the windy city, rain, wind, and shine. We were shown unbelievable hospitality by a friend's family and I do think the seaside town impressed them both. Maybe not as much as me, but definitely a little.
Next stop was Fes and we stayed in a friend's dar. This is the place I managed for 2 months and it was nice to stay there as a guest again. I introduced Mum and Dad to friends, good friends and I think it put Mum at ease to know that I would be ok and had amazing people there for me if my world came crashing down around me in Morocco. Fes is my refuge and I think it always will be. We explored the winding alleyways, smelly tannery and dodged touts successfully.
Having Mum and Dad here was certainly an experience and I am so glad that they came. Maybe it wasn't the place they had always dreamed of going to but they did it for me. Why? Because this place is my home now and it will always have a special place in my heart. I thank them for that tremendously.
