Getting There - Aneel's Travelogue

One thing I forgot to mention about Chellah was how good it smelled. Rabat is one of those places where the pollution becomes like background noise. After even a short while, you stop noticing the buses belching soot, the scooters trailing white clouds, the diners smoking at the next table. It really seems to be everywhere. I've noticed that I'm congested and have a slight cough. I wouldn't be surprised to find that it's not that I'm catching a cold, but just that my lungs are reacting to what I'm breathing.

Chellah, on the other hand, is set back a few hundred meters from the road. It has a nice breeze. And it is full of fruit trees and flowering vines. The guide claimed that it was the botanical garden of Marshall Lyautey, the director of the French Protectorate of Morocco, which I'm a little skeptical of, but someone planted oranges and bananas, jasmine and morning glory.

Schweppes Indian Tonic: this is not the "lemonade" that I ordered. Yes, it is lemon-flavored, with a sour note over the tonic bitterness, but still. Not the same thing at all.

Fanta Lemon: Really lemony.

Poms Apple Soda: Really appley.

Biere Speciale Flag: Unremarkable.