While the clean smell of rain had vanished from the sky, yesterday evening Peter and I took a little walk thru the souk (market). The air in the souk, supple with indecipherably aromatic perfume mixtures, was very still and quiet. I was the only woman, except for the few swathed in hijabs, with only their eyelined and blacked eyes visible, behind the counters selling frankincense. We bargained for three gorgeous Pashmina scarves, and proudly wore the green ones to barbecue night in the garden at the Hilton.
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