One Thousand and One Arabian Nights! I remember the stories I read when I was young. King Shakryar killed his wife the day after his wedding night to prevent her from loving someone-else. He married a thousand times and killed a thousand wives, until he married the Magician's daughter. She started telling him a story each night, with a Cliff-hanger ending? - so that he would want to hear more of the stories, and delay killing her. Such romance!
In 1954, I was in the Arabian Sea, approaching Port Aden.
In Aden, Joyce and I hired an imposing- looking Guide to go sightseeing. I named him our Ali-BaBa. Ali-BaBa was well over six feet tall, truly "dark and handsome" in his flowing robe and turban. He had the most amazing and mesmerizing dark eyes I had ever saw, as if he could hypnotize you anytime he wanted to. I guess he could have picked me up with three fingers literally.
He took us around and then to the Bazaar. What a sight! I loved it! However, there was a hint of Fear in me. I felt that any minute, someone would draw a knife from his sleeves and slash my throat or something. Call me over sensitive.
Did I say that I loved the Bazaar? I really did. I love Shopping! I loved the many exotic wares. The myriad objects with wonderful, intricate forms and colors, a tourist's dream, The textiles! The brass-wares! The carvings! The musical instruments! Those pointed-toed shoes!
I was a kid in the candy store.
I can imagine how Marco Polo felt when he first landed in China. All the sights and sounds must have had the same effects on him as the Aden bazaar had on me.
Soon we were in the Red Sea.
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