HONORED TO HAVE 275,000 UNIQUE READERS

BLOGGING DAILY – FOR A DECADE – ABOUT ACCESSIBILITY, INCLUSION, EQUITY AND DIVERSITY

I am proud to have so many people checking out and sharing the stories on my blog.

It started out as a way to share my travel images and thoughts on urban design.

I quickly added advocacy for people with disabilities – which certainly is crucial to accessible travel and barrier-free urban design/town planning.

Over the years, I have gotten more aggressive about calling out poor design that creates barriers for wheelchair users.

I have pointed out how this nation still lacks affordable, accessible housing – despite living more than three decades under the Americans with Disabilities Act.

The stories also have shared best practices for urban design, architecture and transportation mobility – gleaned from my articles in leading publications such as Planning, New Mobility and On Common Ground magazines.

I love sharing images from the backstreets of Turkey, Morocco, Egypt and other locales in Europe, South America and beyond.

I have made more than 3,000 blog posts.

That’s enough to fill four full-length books.

Thanks to everyone for following this blog and sharing its ideas.

JEMAA EL-FNAA (12)

    THE TOWN SQUARE OF MARRAKECH

The square at night is filled with sights, smells, sounds and intrigue.

It’s not the 21^st century.

It would be some point in the ancient history of this trading crossroads.

JEMAA EL-FNAA (11)

   THE TOWN SQUARE OF MARRAKECH

Red, purple, orange and yellow illuminate the sunset at Jemaa el-Fnaa.

All the tourist trinkets.

All the tour guide touts.

All the pushy vendors.

Melt away from memory.

You are in photography paradise.

JEMAA EL-FNAA (10)

  THE TOWN SQUARE OF MARRAKECH

Dusk in Jemaa el-Fnaa is inspiring.

But interesting to nefarious things are likely taking place on the square and all around its fringes.

Or at least that’s the places many short story tellers take you in Marrakech Noir.

Akashic Books published the finely-crafted volume of dark stories, translated from Arabic, French, and Dutch.

http://www.akashicbooks.com/catalog/marrakech-noir-morocco/

JEMAA EL-FNAA (9)

 THE TOWN SQUARE OF MARRAKECH

Sunset is a magical time in the Red City.

JEMAA EL-FNAA (8)

 THE TOWN SQUARE OF MARRAKECH

Grab a seat at any of the dozens of multi-terraced cafes.

Order a simple tajine or cous cous.

Watch the food vendors assemble like time lapse before your eyes.

JEMAA EL-FNAA (7)

  THE TOWN SQUARE OF MARRAKECH

Barbary Macaques are the only primate species endemic to Morocco and Algeria.

The have been categorized as “endangered to extinction.”

It is prohibited to sell or keep them as pets.

Despite the restrictions, Barbary Macaques are used as photo props for tourists, 

JEMAA EL-FNAA (6)

  THE TOWN SQUARE OF MARRAKECH

Koutoubia Mosque is the largest mosque in Marrakech.

It was founded in 1147 and entirely rebuilt around 1158.

It cuts a gorgeous figure over the main square, especially when the sun sets behind it.

Enjoy the mosque from the outside – unless you are Muslim, you are not allowed to enter.

JEMAA EL-FNAA (5)

  THE TOWN SQUARE OF MARRAKECH

Goat heads seem to be a popular item at the food stalls.

Locals far outnumber tourists at the stalls.

Pick a place that looks crowded with locals and try something.

The prices are so low, you will not be losing much money if you don’t clean your plate.

JEMAA EL-FNAA (4)

THE TOWN SQUARE OF MARRAKECH

Every day of the year.

From dusk till past midnight.

Smoke fills the air.

Grills are filled with meats.

Stews and soups boil and bubble.

Food vendors fill the square.

JEMAA EL-FNAA (3)

 THE TOWN SQUARE OF MARRAKECH

You read about it in the guide books.

You’ve seen it in old movies.

It’s even been depicted in countless cartoons.

But when you are walking and gawking and almost stumble across cobras…it gives one a jolt.

JEMAA EL-FNAA (2)

THE TOWN SQUARE OF MARRAKECH

Dozens of cafes have multiple terraces that overlook the main square.

Some are top restaurants favored by wealthy locals.

Many are tourist traps with decent tajines.

A few are once grand, but now faded French-themed dowagers.

JEMAA EL-FNAA (1)

THE TOWN SQUARE OF MARRAKECH

Locals and tourists jam the square from morning till late into the night.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE, 

I RESOLVE TO PAY ATTENTION TO MY HEALTH

From the time I was little, I ate whatever I wanted in whatever quantity made me feel full.

It’s a long story – one that will be told on this blog sometime in 2020 – but suffice to say my mom was severely mentally ill and often abusive.

In her rare times of being lucid and contrite, she would cook an insane amount of food for me as a way of saying sorry.

A little kid, barely 5, would be served enough lasagna, garlic bread, veal cutlet and cake to feed a crew of Olympic swimmers in training.

Fruits and vegetables were rarely on the dinner table.

Thus began a century of associating 5,000+ calorie days with being loved.

Feeling down, eat an entire pizza.

Celebrating something great, get $300 worth of food from a $100 gourmet brunch.

I turned 55 in 2019 and by the end of the year, decided that maybe another round of buying bigger pants, shirts and belts…was not the answer.

So I am on my journey.

Healthy eating and exercising seems as exotic and faraway to me as the images of Marrakech, Morocco displayed at the top and bottom of this page.

But day by day, I am getting used to shopping healthy, cooking healthy, eating healthy.

Wish me luck as I add some healthy moderation to my life.

WE ARE GRATIFIED THAT THIS BLOG HAS MORE THAN 215,000 UNIQUE VISITORS

SAVING THE WORLD ONE CUTE CAT PIC AT A TIME...

WELL, NOT EXACTLY -- BUT WE DO BELIEVE IN PROMOTING KINDNESS, FAIR PLAY AND MAKING THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE

This blog has taken on serious issues – lack of affordable housing, planning/architecture that fails to meet the needs of people with disabilities, consumer rip-offs and much more.

It also has published probably 100 cute cat photos, many of HoneyBear our Siamese cat.

But even the cat pics have meaning. HoneyBear was rescued from the streets of Miami and our love for her inspired us to donate supplies and money to Cat Network and other groups that take care of thousands of stray cats.

Our recent photo series from Rome spotlighted the good work done by the all-volunteer Largo di Torre Argentina Cat Sanctuary.

Our images from Turkey, Morocco and far beyond portray how others live –so our readers can open their hearts and minds in this time of bigotry and bullying.

Our mini stories about urban design trying to teach people about the need to build for climate change in a sustainable way that enhances mobility and livability for people who use wheelchairs for mobility.

We certainly don’t take ourselves too seriously.

But when we look back – over 2,500 blog posts dating back nearly a decade – we know that each narrative and original image is focused on leaving the world a better place than we found it.

BERBER VILLAGES OF THE HIGH ATLAS MOUNTAINS, MOROCCO, NORTH AFRICA -- Part 7

IMAGES BY STEVE WRIGHT, WORDS BY LISA SYKES/THE GUARDIAN

Descending through the sweet-smelling pines and gnarled junipers we saw the summit of Toubkal in the distance, a faint triangular point against the blue sky. 

Below were well-kept terraces of fruit trees covered in spring blossom. Boulders and scree covered the valley floor, the aftermath of dangerous flash floods that had been caused by summer storms.

Later, the first star of the evening, the Etoile de berger or shepherd's star, rose in the sky and, on cue, dark blobs on the mountainside began moving across and down the slopes.

The flocks were coming home.

BERBER VILLAGES OF THE HIGH ATLAS MOUNTAINS, MOROCCO, NORTH AFRICA -- Part 6

IMAGES BY STEVE WRIGHT, WORDS BY LISA SYKES/THE GUARDIAN

On my first day of walking we climbed to the tizi (mountain pass) that gave us a spectacular view into the neighbouring Tacheddirt valley. 

Walking at a steady pace that still left me breathless on the steepest parts, we saw few other tourists. 

It was quiet in early March, the beginning of the season in the High Atlas, but the sun was already strong, burning my face before I realised it.

In the late afternoons, the temperature began to fall, and by the evening I was wearing two fleeces, jacket, thermal underwear, hat and gloves.

BERBER VILLAGES OF THE HIGH ATLAS MOUNTAINS, MOROCCO, NORTH AFRICA -- Part 5

IMAGES BY STEVE WRIGHT, WORDS BY LISA SYKES/THE GUARDIAN

With my pack strapped to a mule, we walked for 45 minutes over the pass to Aremd, Considering this is the closest village to the country's highest mountain, it is surprisingly free of tourist trappings. 

The Gte d'Omar in Aremd can accommodate 20 or so people, several to a room. 

The facilities are basic, but there is a shower - cold water is free, hot water costs 10 dirhams (70p). 

Fatima, Omar's wife, and her daughter-in-law bake fresh bread daily and cook delicious tajines - meat and vegetable stews cooked in earthenware pots with conical lids.

BERBER VILLAGES OF THE HIGH ATLAS MOUNTAINS, MOROCCO, NORTH AFRICA -- Part 4

IMAGES BY STEVE WRIGHT, WORDS BY LISA SYKES/THE GUARDIAN

My plan was to spend two days hiking in the High Atlas mountains, then return to explore Marrakech for an evening and morning before the flight home on Sunday afternoon.

Topping out at over 4,000 metres, the Toubkal is the country's highest massif, although I was only trekking at around the 2,000m. 

The treeline peters out at the village of Imlil at around 1,500m, where there's a clutch of small hotels, cafés and shops selling everything from Mars bars to guttering.

Imlil is an hour and a half by road from Marrakech, the last 20 minutes on a swaying mountain dirt track clinging to the contours. 

The villagers have voted not to have it paved as they like their semi-isolation at the head of the valley and are worried about being inundated by Moroccan tourists in their cars.

BERBER VILLAGES OF THE HIGH ATLAS MOUNTAINS, MOROCCO, NORTH AFRICA -- Part 3

IMAGES BY STEVE WRIGHT, WORDS BY LISA SYKES/THE GUARDIAN

 

Just 24 hours after leaving London, I am dashing about the terraced fields of apple trees with the village boys and men who are old enough to know better. 

Even my guide, Mohammed Elaamri, also a Berber, thinks it's all a little strange. 

Above us in the village of Aremd, every rooftop and street corner is filled with people swaying, jigging, dancing, chanting, clapping or banging a tambourine-style drum. 

By dusk, the goat-skinned men - there are up to eight of them each day - are knackered. 

The game ends with the muezzin's wailing call to prayer echoing around the surrounding mountains.