The first time I ever tasted freshly squeezed pomegranate juice was in Tangier, Morocco. Call me late but it’s a memory I’m proud of and will remember greatly. The gentleman squeezing the pomegranate was so kind too. He was so interested in knowing my thoughts on the juice.
So many great memories in Tangier, even the nightly strolls around Grand Socco and Petit Socco. At first the nightly strolls were a bit creepy cause there are so many dark corners and quiet parts but people are still around. The other creepy part, for me, was the hill that looks over the port of Tangier. At night, the ocean looked so dark and resembled a dark void. And to make it worse, there are no gates surrounding the hill so if you decide to fall there is no holding on to.
I just finished watching El Tiempo Entre Costuras, a Spanish soap opera based in Tangier and Tetouan. Oh how the nostalgia came flowing in every time I saw the beautiful streets of these two cities. I jumped with excitement every time I saw a familiar street I walked. Take me back please!
