Tangier.

I am from Fes. I grew up in Meknes. Two of our most beautiful, soulful cities. But I found myself in Tangier. Bohemian, cosmopolitan, mysterious, painted with light and shadow. It’s a city of beauty and depth made for dreamers. You can be anyone in Tangier. You can remake yourself, rewrite your backstory, indulge your fantasies, or simply start anew.  

It is a place with an unusual dynamic in which devout old men mingle with ruffians, artists, and bon-vivants. A place where expats and locals remake and reinvent the surface of a city that, at its core, is still the same trading village it was 2,500 years ago. Sexy and seedy, salacious yet civilized, Tangier inspires through its streets, vistas, and parties, artists -- as diverse as Henri Matisse, Tennessee Williams, and Allen Ginsberg. It sits in one of those privileged places in the world, guarding the entrance between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, all while staring longingly at the long-lost Andalucía. It’s a city with a soul like no other.

Dancing and twirling with my aunts for hours as a child to a traditional music, magical moments of bonding, lightness and pure happiness.

On my mother's couch in Casablanca, the late afternoon sun rays filtering through the curtains, playing hide and seek on the senia (silver plate with tea set).

Ouzoud falls.

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