It was some time after the first of five daily prayer times in Morocco circa 3:45 a.m. That I woke up to pack my weekender bag for a trip south to the Sahara, although the days I’d be gone were week ones and my bag doubled as my carry on.
My riad arranged the trip and I entirely trusted their recommendation. I didn’t know what to expect besides maroon walls, winding roads torturing y fear of heights, camel rides and rituals among rolling mountains, erected tents and copious tea coffee and tea with mint. I later learned that by virtue of mint not growing in the desert, tea is mindless in the Sahara. But there was sugar.
As I waited for the caravan to fill a woman sat across from me in repose. As the caravan took off with a dozen strangers that would become intimate acquaintances by virtue of our journey my offer to share fresh dried fruits and nuts to the woman across from me who seemed to be attentive to a book and a sleepy male companion.
On our first stop at a cafe high perched literally on a cliff with a panorama worth of facing a fear, he awakened. They had coffee. I watched. She perked up. Then came our first conversation, a return to the caravan but she still refused my snacks. It was all good.
Another coffee stop. More cliffs. More conversation. After about eight hours we arrived to the Sahara riding camels into the center of the Saharan universe, claiming a tent together, breaking bread together while eating the traditional tagine. Not even the stars could separate us from joining in live music with the nom, dancing in the sand and enjoying cups of coffee well into the desert night.
A couple of days later we returned to the Marrakech square, emptying out the caravan with so much more than what we boarded: one another’s friendship. That was seven months ago. Two weeks ago they were married. And with NY as the first of a three-part honeymoon leg they stopped to have coffee with me. Of course I’m just in love with them now. Here, the newlyweds at Saturday’s NY: they drink cappuccino.
Two weeks ago they were married in their home of Berlin and stopped in NY on the first part of their three destination honeymoon tour to see me: like gahhhh. Of course we did coffee a few times, one of which was here at Saturday’s New York. The drink coffee: cappuccinos to be exact. I kind of don’t care anymore that she didn’t want my snacks and gave me coffee time on a cliff heading to the Sahara. |
Coffee Shop: Saturdays NY