Josie’s Journal – Thursday 3rd April, 1941
I’m not going to write much tonight because we’re heading off on our trip tomorrow and that means getting up early. If you ask me, there’s been an awful lot of preparation for a so-called relaxed family holiday. Papa has arranged the car and the extra gasoline we’ll need and Maman has been trying to think of everything else we might want for any eventuality that may occur. She’s been worrying about whether we will need mosquito nets, whether we’ll have enough warm clothes for the cold nights and whether we might run out of water or starve to death. I think the time we spent in the refugee camp has had a lasting effect on her. But Papa has assured her that we will actually be staying in very nice hotels.
He spread the map out on the table and showed me exactly where we’re going. First we’ll visit Meknes to see Bab Mansour, which is a huge and ancient arched gate covered with beautiful mosaic tiles. Then we’ll go to Fez, where we’re going to stay the night in a traditional riad that is now a guest house, recommended by two English friends of Miss Ellis’s who have been staying there too. That will be very interesting to see and should reassure Maman that we really are staying in comfortable places if they are suitable for English ladies. After that, we’ll head into the mountains, driving up through a long valley that leads to Taza, a city at the head of the pass. Beyond that is the desert. Papa showed me some pictures in a guidebook. Taza is very ancient and began as a fortress because it was used to defend one of the very few passes through the mountains. The town is surrounded by ramparts to protect it from marauders. When I saw the photos of those high walls, I hoped that they would help protect us, just in case the camouflage provided by me and Annette being along for the trip needs a bit of reinforcement.
Beneath the town there are caves in which people live. They are called ‘troglodytes’。 I think it would be very interesting to be a cave dweller. You probably wouldn’t have to worry about being polite and brushing your hair and having dinner parties. Maybe it wouldn’t be so much fun in the winter, though, because there can be snow in the mountains then, even in Africa.
We will spend two nights in Taza, giving us time to explore the town and the mountains and perhaps venture into the desert, although that’ll depend on how the gasoline supplies are holding out. According to the map, it is approximately 330 kilometres from Casablanca to Taza.
After that we’ll drive all the way home in one day, which will be a lot of driving for Papa. I hope the Dodge Sedan will be up to it, and that we can have the windows open sometimes because it’s certain to be very warm in the middle of the day. Papa says we’ll mostly try and travel earlier and that it’ll be cooler in the mountains in any case.
I’m not going to take my journal with me on the trip because Annette and I will be sharing a room when we stay at the hotels so I won’t be able to write in it without her poking her nose in and demanding to read what I’ve said in case I’m writing anything about her. I’ll just take some notes so I don’t forget things and then I can write up everything about the trip when we come home again. In the meantime I’ve found the perfect hiding place for it under the floorboards in my room. I think my sandalwood box will just fit in there too, for safekeeping while we’re away.
I hope I sleep well tonight, although I’m feeling a mixture of excited and anxious about the trip. But I’m determined to be the best possible camouflage for Papa so I will be acting the perfect tourist.
Goodnight.
Josie’s Journal – Wednesday 9th April, 1941
We got back late last night. Even though the trip was very interesting, I was pleased to be home again and have my own bed to sleep in. Annette snores, and in Taza we had to share a bed. She took up most of it, even though it would have been quite large enough for two people if she had kept to her own side. I think she must have had a few bad dreams of her own, because she was very restless and kept kicking me. I’d take her to see the dreamseller if I thought it’d do her any good, but I know if I suggested it she’d make that face like she did when we went past the leather tannery in Fez.
But I’m jumping ahead again. Here’s what happened on our trip to the mountains . . .
We set off early and first of all we followed the road alongside the ocean. I looked out of the window and thought about the words I’d thrown into it. I felt a bit sad, but mostly it was a quiet sadness, one that didn’t feel as painful as before.
Then Annette said, ‘Josie is biting her fingernails again,’ and Maman turned around in her seat and told me to stop. She asked me what I was thinking about that was making me anxious and I said, ‘Having to share a room with Annette tonight’， just to teach that sister of mine a lesson for telling tales.