Return to Spain

Day 46
We were up early once again to catch the train to Tangier. I screwed up the time though and we just missed the first train out. Because of me we had to wait about 3 hours for the next train. It really put our whole day behind. While we waited I spent our last dirhams on snacks for the ride and Al returned to the Medina to see if anyone had any patches.

On the train we passed some pretty run down little towns. It was really quite sad. When we got to the ferry terminal we were shocked to learn that we couldn´t use our credit cards. We ended up paying in euros, but we didn’t quite have enough. I made up the difference with a 5 pound note I had kept from the UK. We got a bit ripped because of it, but at least we were getting out of Morocco.

The ferry wasn´t long, but Spain is two hours ahead of Morocco so it seemed to be very late. We didn´t have a map and out of sheer luck found the hostel I had booked for us in Tarifa with no problems.

It was too late to do much and we ended just picking up cold cuts for dinner and going to sleep. I did however, get one picture of some ponies in a field.

Chellah

Day 46
We managed to find a cute café close to our hotel where I could finally get some mint tea and yummy pastries.

The main reason we had picked Rabat and not Casablanca was to visit Chellah. This was where humans first lived in Rabat. There are the ruins of a mosque as well as some Roman ruins. The entrance gate was quite impressive. Right when we were arriving a tour bus was also pulling up. A guy who had been resting came out in traditional Moroccan clothing and started banging on a drum. When the package tourist walked by he held out his hat for money.

The gardens were wild, but they were beautiful. I´ve started to enjoy taking pictures of flowers and had a field day here. On the way down to the ruined mosque thousands of birds sat in the trees. Some of them seemed to be fighting.

Al and I climbed around the mosque and took loads of pictures. Our guidebook had told us that there would be a pond full of eels. We found the pond, but it had been drained the bottom was filled with mud. I wonder what happened to the eels.

The Roman ruins weren’t much, but we could make out what had been houses and walls and bits of street. It looked a little like Jeresh in Jordan, but in a much more advanced state of decay.

As we wandered the mile or so back to Rabat we passed the Royal Palace. It was funny to think that we had just seen the king two days before.

After lunch and some questionable oj, we decided to head back to the souk. Al wanted to try and get a patch from Morocco. Unfortunately we didn’t have any luck.

After some time on the internet and booking some hostels in Spain we decided to try again for a movie in English. The guy at reception suggested that we go one town over, to a place called Sale. We asked if there would be shops and something like a mall. He said yes.

The place he had recommended was not a mall, it was a resort hotel. We found out quickly that the cinema had closed. There was a dance club on site and Al thought from the neon girls dancing on the front that it must be a strip club. He asked the security guy by asking “girls dance” and pretending to pull up his shirt. The guy laughed and blushed saying no.

We ended up having some decent pizza at one of the hotels restaurants and playing a few rounds of poop before heading back to Rabat.

Uno Rabat

Day 45

After a four hour train ride we checked into Hotel Central. It was by far one of the grossest places I have ever stayed. However, the price and location were right, so I couldn´t turn it down.

I was dying to see a movie in English and we spent some time looking for a theatre. There wasn´t anything that wasn´t dubbed or in French. Instead we wandered the medina for a bit. We were not hassled here like we had been in Fez, in fact, no one really noticed us.

We had been recommended a place called the Goethe Institute for dinner. I was under the impression that we would be drinking German beer and eating German food. It turned out to have a more Moroccan and Spanish menu. It also seemed to be a trendy place for expats and tourists.

Neither of us were feeling like a night out so we played Uno in the room for a bit before calling it a night.

The King and I

Day 44
As we had decided to skip out on Marrakech we got up early to take an hour long train ride to Meknes. Of course we had a leisurely breakfast with lots of mint tea first. The same guys that had pestered us the day before about a tour did it again. We told them that we had done it alone.

When we got to Meknes it was odd to see that the streets were blocked off and there were gun toting soldiers all over the place. After asking around for a bit we found out that the king was coming. We were about 30 minutes early and decided to get a spot and hang out. Just as we were about to give up he came by. I got lucky and got a picture of him waving out of the window.

Our main objective was to visit Habs Kara, or the prison of Christen Slaves. Moulay Ismail would receive foreign ambassadors in the pavilion that was above the prison. The ambassadors never knew how close their countrymen were. The slave quarters were frightening. They were dark and dank, but Al insisted on exploring them fully. It was very sad knowing that 60,000 people were once chained to the walls in a standing position here.

I wanted to check out the souks, but Al didn´t want to get hassled. Eventually I won and we wandered around for a bit. The food souk was full of cow and goat heads and smelled awful. There were several stands with live chickens, and other stands that killed the chickens. The rest of the souks were quite boring, they had household goods and things we just didn´t need.

We decided to call it a day and headed back to Fez. We had an early train the next day and after dinner at a place close to the hotel we called it a night.

Escaping the Maze

Day 43
We were up early and ready to check out Fez. They guys at the hotel tried to pressure us into hiring a guide through them, but we refused. Over breakfast at the café next to the hotel we introduced ourselves to two guys who were clearly tourists. I was thinking that maybe we could split the cost of a guide. They turned out to be Belgian and had done the tour before through the same hotel we were at. They said that it was mostly shops and not much history.

The guys at the hotel didn´t like that we were talking to the Belgians. They told me that if I wanted a tour I needed to talk to them. We told the hotel guys that we would be doing the medina on our own.

Al and I decided that the best thing to do would be to go to the tourist info center and hire a guide through them. When we went there we were told that we could have either a 3 hour or a 5 hour tour. If we picked the 5 hour tour we would need to buy dinner for our guide. We asked if we would get to pick the restaurant. The guy didn´t like that question and told us that we could just get a guide at the gates.

After figuring out that we couldn´t possibly fit in Marrakech and a desert tour we took our chances and headed to the medina. We hadn´t quite decided if we would get a guide or do it alone yet. As soon as the cab stopped kids were running up and opening our doors. They asked for money, but we brushed them off. A guy named Mohammad approached us. He was an unofficial guide, but he spoke good English and told us the tour was the same price no matter how long it took. Plus, we didn´t have to buy him dinner.

Mohammad lead us around the labyrinth of streets that date from the 14th century. We walked by a school with Donald duck painted on the wall. Our guide pointed out that the door hinges were often in the shape of the hand of Fatima for good luck. We ducked into two medersa´s, or schools. Both were museums. The first was in quite good repair and had a display on musical instruments. I never caught the name of the school. The second medersa was called Sahrij and had been built in the 14th century. Even though it was under restoration the cedar woodwork was still stunning.

We also saw more mosques than I care to remember. The Andalusian mosque, was built in 849, and was quite attractive. We were, of course, not allowed inside.

My favorite part was the tanneries. The guy there explained to us that the hides were first washed in pigeon droppings and then white washed. After that the color is added. The whole process takes about 3 weeks. The leather guy didn´t do the hard sell thing and we left without any problems.

The cheapie sunglasses I had bought the year before broke in the beginning of our tour. I can´t not have sun glasses, so I shopped around for a bit. The first guy wanted 180 dirhams, or US $23 for a pair of fake Prada´s. He tried to tell me that they were real! I ended up spending 30 dirhams, or about US $3.75 for an oversized pair of shades.

The police in Fez are really trying to crack down on faux guides like Mohammed. The people who hired him wouldn´t get in trouble, but I have heard that unofficial guides are often arrested. This means that Mohammed couldn´t really be seen with us. He kept looking around and always walked way in front of us. A few times he completely disappeared. One time I thought that we had lost him for good. Al and I were checking out some sign, I don´t remember about what, when some kids kicked a soccer ball to Al. We both passed the ball around for a bit. When we stopped the kids pulled key chains out of their pockets to sell to us. Al pulled a Happy Meal toy from my lunch out of his pocket and gave it to the smallest kid. They all forgot about selling us stuff and quickly became engrossed over the small toy. When we turned around Mohammed was gone.

We figured that he would just find us like he had before and wandered slowly through a shop lined street. Different people kept hassling us with our guide gone. Eventually we had wandered far enough that people were asking if we needed a taxi. There are no cars in the medina so we could only assume that we were just about out. We both felt bad, Mohammed was doing a good job and seemed like a descent guy. We wouldn´t want to run out on him before paying him. This caused us to turn back. After a few minutes we saw Mohammed running down the street to find us. I was relived. I would have felt awful if we had not paid him.

The last real stop on the tour was a rug and blanket weaver. They gave us tea and pulled out about 12 different rugs and blankets explaining what the symbols on each one meant. When they were done they wanted to know which kind we liked best. Al told him the ones he liked. They wanted something like 2000 dirhams for a small blanket and a jacket that Al was interested in. There was no way we were going to do that so they asked for a counter offer. We gave the ridiculous offer of 200 dirhams. He told us that we were killing him. I told him that we just didn´t have the money and we got up to leave. As we were walking out he asked us “what is your problem, you come to Morocco with no money?” I told him that we had enough to see the country, not to take it home with us.

At this point we had been walking around in the heat for about 3.5 hours. We were both tired and told Mohammed that we were ready to get a cab back. He lead us out of the maze and we gave him a good tip. He took a picture of the two of us. By accident we had both worn shirts with my logo on it. We were one of “those” couples for the day.

After showering it was time for a Moroccan meal. We found a great restaurant that served a 3 course meal. All of it was good, but the chicken was out of this world. We finished off the evening with a couple of beers at a café overlooking the main boulevard. When the outside closed we moved indoors. I was very unhappy to see that there wasn´t any toilet paper in the bathroom. A woman, dressed very proactively in a bar of mainly men, handed me some tissues. I thanked her for them. It´s not every day that a (most likely) prostitute helps me out.

Two if by land, one if by sea

Day 42
After discussing our options far later than we should have we decided to go forward with our plans to visit Morocco and were up before dawn to catch a bus.

We had to take several different types of transportation to get to Fez. First we spent about 2 hours on a bus to Algerceras, then we spent another 3 hours on a ferry, we ended with a 6 hour train ride from Tangier to Fez.

Immigration to Morocco was painless. Once through we were approached by a guy who told us that he was just there to help and that he was an official guy. He gave us good information (except for an incorrect train time) and didn´t ask for any money. I guess he was telling the truth.

We did not have such a nice experience on the train. Some guy sat in the compartment that we were sharing with an elderly couple. He heard us speaking and in very good English told us that he was about to marry an Australian and that he worked at the Tangier tourist booth and was hoping to open his own tourist company at some point. He gave us the name of a place to stay and the name of a guide and his number. We didn´t trust him. He did find out from us that we lived in NYC (we didn´t mention my trip) and, upon hearing Al speak Spanish to the elderly couple, that Al was Uruguayan. The shady guy eventually left saying he needed the bathroom. He was gone for about 2 hours.

Eventually he came back to just leave again minutes later. We figured that he had found an easier target. At this point another guy comes in to the booth. He starts talking to us, ask us where we are from. When we say NYC he tells Al that he doesn´t look like he is from NY, but rather from South America. That was just too weird, and we figured that the two shady guys were in cahoots. The second guy left and we didn´t see him again.

Eventually the elderly couple, who were on the train until 11pm at night, figured out that there was an empty compartment and went to move. We offered to do so instead. When we got to Fez we both needed the bathrooms and were behind the rest of the passengers in departing the station. I didn´t see it, but Al saw both shady guys walking together, when they saw us, one of them jumped behind a column. Clearly they were trying something, what we didn´t know, and I guess it didn´t matter because they didn´t get it.

After wandering for a bit we settled on an uber cheap but not so great hotel. We were too tired and it was too late in the day to accomplish anything more than dinner and passing out in our room.

Monkey's in Space

I slept in a bit later than I had planned, but managed to get going quickly and I was once again entering the Medina. My goal for the day was to not get frustrated by the touts and to see a couple of the museums that I had not yet visited.

My first stop was the Saadian Tombs. The tombs were built by Ahmad I al-Mansour in the late 16^th and early 17^th centuries. What makes them so interesting, and what has helped to preserve them, is that they were not discovered until 1917. The tombs are located in the Kasbah area of the Medina. I had some time before they opened for the afternoon so I wandered about, avoiding the scooters and stares as best I could.

My wandering led me to the olive grove. I couldn't figure out how to get in, but it was still nice to take a look at it. I spent the rest of my time walking along the city walls. It was quiet there and I wasn't attracting any attention.

Wn the tombs finally opened I paid my US $1.10 and followed the crowd in. Luckily I managed to covertly follow along with a tour for a few minutes, if I hadn't I wouldn't have had a clue what I was looking at. The tombs were quite different than any others I had ever seen. In one respect they were sort of like the modern tombstones that are just a slate laid flat on the ground. However, there were no names and the full length stones were covered in intricate designs. About 60 members of the Saadi Dynasty were buried here. There were three main rooms. The most impressive room held the Sultans grandson. Another room was for children, and another for high ranking officials. Outside, surrounding the buildings, were the tombs of servants and soldiers.

After getting lost and then getting put back on track by kido spoke really good English I made it to El Badi Palace. El Badi are the remnants of Sultan Ahmed el-Mansour palace. This was the same guy who built the Saadian tombs. El Badi was built in 1578. Not much was left and it was difficult to see the 360 rooms that were once there. However, the walls were covered in storks and the ruins were fun to photograph. This palace was destroyed not long after its completion by the Alaouite Sultan Mawlay Ismail, he used the supplies for his own palace and left what he couldn't steal to the elements.

After about an hour of check out the view and taking pick after picture of the huge storks living on the walls I was ready to visit Djemma El Fna for the last time. I was determined to get a picture with a monkey without getting ripped off. When I got close to the monkey guys one of them sat a monkey on my arm before I knew what was happening. Suddenly having a five pound monke

y on your shoulder can really freak a person out. I felt bad though because it was just a baby monkey and I think I scared it. I ended up having the monkey guy pose with me and the monkey so that I didn't have to hold it. The monkey guys also asked for 200 dirhams. I gave them 50 instead. I was at the point that I was trying to get rid of my change anyway.

Just as soon as I had finished with the monkeys I was once again being approached by the henna women. At this point I thought what the heck and I went ahead and got a small henna tattoo on my hand.

For my last stop in Marrakesh I paid a few bucks for a coke and sat at one of the restaurants overlooking Djemma El Fna. It was funny to survey the madness from so far above and to be part of it, but removed. It was the perfect way to end my trip.

The next morning I was up at stupid o'clock to catch my flight. I didn't miss my connecting flight but I did sit next to another strange person. The old woman seated next me me not only insisted on using the armrest, but in hanging her arm several inches over my seat. In the end I asked the flight attendant to explain to her that she could have the armrest, but that she can't hang her arm over my chair. She listened for the most part. What was the strangest bit was that she wouldn't get up when I needed to use the bathroom, instead forcing me to climb over her. She had been escorted to the seat so I assumed that she couldn't walk without aid. That was until two thirds of the way into the flight she got up an walked around for a while. Some people really need to learn airport etiquette.

Marrakesh was fabulous. It was a lot of work and tiring, though, getting all of that attention, not to mention the actual work that I did. The lesson that I learned is that when I am in places like Marrakesh, where I am an attraction all my own, I should get a hotel room right in the middle of everything. That way if I want a break I will have a retreat close by. I am definitely looking forward to seeing more of Morocco with Rose in April!

Breaking the Backpacker Code

After several days of basically working around the clock it was just about time for everyone to head home. The last planned activity was a walking tour of Marrakesh. I had not made a point of visiting a few places over the weekend as I wasn't completely sure what would be on the tour and I didn't want any repeats. I normally don't care for tours like this, and all of the backpacker instincts in me were screaming to abort from the get go. However, Marrakesh is a place where a tour is a good idea. The Medina is a maze and everything is difficult to find. A tour can not only help you get your bearings, but also find those really hidden places that you might have never even thought about visiting.

Our tour guide, whose name I don't remember, began by leading us through a maze-like area. For some reason, it frightened me more to cross the moped filled and busy streets with a large group, than it did when I was on my own. I kept worrying that someone wasn't paying attention, or that they would get distracted and lost.

Our first stop was a pre-school, or perhaps a kindergarten. The children all seemed very happy and were waving at us and smiling for pictures. I tried to ask one little girl what her name was, she didn't understand and simply stared at my blond hair. Right next door was the communal bakery. Women made dough at home and then would bring it to the baker to use the oven. After a couple of pictures our guide mentioned that the baker would want tips. That's when I put my camera down. Don't tell me 5 pictures in that he wants money. Also, I had told my event planner that I wanted things like that taken care of on the tour.

We spent some time wandering around the back allies of the souk that many tourists never quite make it to. This gave us more of a local, and less kitchy view of the Medina. At the various shops there were many kids working. Our guide explained that the kids went to school Monday through Thursday and then on Fridays had apprenticeships. It was still odd to see 12 year old kids working with metal or selling dates. He said that we could take pictures, but that the kids wanted tips as well. Here's where I don't mind tipping. Unfortunately I didn't have any small change, but a member of our group gave the boys a rather large tip and we all snapped away.

One of our stops was at the 600 year old Caravan hotel. This is where travelers, mostly merchants, would stop for a few days. It was the Ritz of the 16^th century. Most of it had been turned into small apartments and it was looking a little worse for wear. Still, the location was great and it was possible to imagine how beautiful it once was.

The Ben Youssef Medersa is a 16^th century koronic school and is simply breathtaking. The detailed stucco work was amazing. I kept taking picture after picture, knowing that none of them would do it justice. The students, almost 900 during the Medersa's heyday, where housed in small prison-like cells. There were about 8 cells to a courtyard and a sky light. For fun a co-worker jumped in a cell and we “locked” him in.

We also made a stop at the Museum of Marrakesh. I would have liked to have spent more time here. We took a quick look at some Berber rugs. The wood carvings above the doors were amazing. I kept clicking away at them, but never quite taking a picture that would do them justice. One section of the museum had at one time been a haman. Now it is just a functionless example of its past use. The oven, off to the side of the hamman, had been repurposed to hang some blue torso-looking pieces of modern art.

Eventually we ended up at Djemma El Fna. The guide paid off the snake guy and our small group clicked away. The snake charmer tried to get everyone to wear a snake around their necks. Everyone declined, I'd already done it so at least I wasn't a wimp like everyone else!

Our last stop was really no surprise, it was a carpet store. I'd heard of these, but I didn't realize just how much of a show these guys put on. Over about a 15 minute time span the store owner (I think) talked about different types of Berber carpets. While he was talking his employees rolled out one rug after another. In no time there must have been about 50 unrolled rugs piled up on the floor. I think the pile came up almost to my knees. This intricate display was all for naught though, as no one wanted to buy.

After the tour my boss and I had considered getting a private tour guide to visit some other areas of Marrakesh. However, both of us were exhausted and all I really wanted to do was to take a nap.

Later that night we met up for a nice dinner. Afterwards I was left to enjoy Marrakesh on my own for one more day.

A Hamman Story

The next was I was up early to get serious and start working. I had tons of things to do to get started on the meeting and to ensure that everything would go smoothly when the attendees began to arrive.

I did have a few free moments that I used to to the thing everyone must do when they come to Morocco, I had a hamman. This was not just any hamman, this was a hamman at a five star hotel. Therefore this might be slightly different, and definitely far more expensive than you have previously read about.

When I arrived I was ushered into a small changing room where I changed from my jeans and t-shirt into a bathing suit that even behind closed doors I felt uncomfortable wearing. Before beginning the hamman I had decided that there is no way I was going to let her make me remove even the top half of my one piece suit.

After changing I was lead into a hot room and she immediately told me to take my top down. At first I pretended that I did not understand, be eventually she just untied the back herself, and there I was naked except for the bottom of my bathing suit. She then asked me to lie down on a mat. That mat was warm from the heat and steam of the room, that was relaxing after my busy day of work.

My attendant left for what seemed like an eternity. When she came back she was wearing something that amounted to 50 percent a work out outfit and 50 percent a bathing suit, but 100 percent unattractive.

She then began filling up buckets of warm water and dumping them over me. In no time I was soaked through. The next step was to rub me down with some sort of soap. This was followed by rubdown with a coarse mitten. I had thought this part would tickle, but it was too rough for that. The following step was to once again be rubbed all over with some different type of soap. Throughout the entire process she would randomly throw so more buckets of warm water over me. Finally it was time for the full body massage. I had thought that this bit would last longer, but apparently not.

She then had me sit up while she washed my hair. The very last step was to throw buckets of cold water over me. This was almost a nice change after how oppressively hot and steamy the room has become, almost. The very last step was to put my robe back on and relax in the neutral temperature of a room decked out in facial supplies. I'm glad that I had a chance to experience the hamman, but I think my Western idea of remaining clothed in front of strangers will prevent me from doing something like that again.

The next few days will be full of work so I won't be writing about them. I will pick up with Friday and my company-paid tour of Marrakesh!

Escape from the Snake Charmer

I had planned to get out of Marrakesh and see some more of Morocco, but I just didn't have the energy. I slept for about 14 hours straight. It was fabulous. I decided to go with my current theme of being lazy and I lounged around my room watching Scooby Doo and eating the rest of the fruit from the night before.

Eventually I got my act together and wandered around the hotel trying to find all of the different amenities. The pool and the gardens were amazing. Eventually it was time for the free bus to the downtown area and I took advantage of it.

By the time I arrived I was very hungry and very much in need of a bathroom. I practically ran past all of the performers. I also ran past a guy with a monkey. How could I have done that, he had a monkey, what could be more fun?

After my quick lunch of pizza I was determined to find the palace and the tombs. It wasn't long before I was being tailed by a guy who wanted to “practice” his English. At first I said ok, but then he wanted to take me to the Jewish Souk, down a dark thin alley. That was the point that I said no. He kept telling me that tourists go there all the time and that it was the right way. I say no and asked him to go away. He did, of all the crazy things.

I decided to try and wander a bit more. I ended up finding the Jewish souk on my own and it was definitely not down a dark thin alley and there were not any tourists there. It's better to walk around the non-tourist areas. It wasn't a beautiful place by any means, but it was real. I ended up finding a really nice little spice stand and buying some tea for my mom. The vendor gave me some black soap (for a hamman) and I took a picture with him.

I wandered a bit more and saw two guys taking pictures in front of La Koutoubia, this partially ruined tower thing. I wanted a picture of myself in front of it too so I offered to take a picture of them. I often do this, its a good way to know that your camera won't be walking off. After they took the picture I found out that they were from Casablanca. They also wanted pictures with me and my phone number. I let them take the pictures.

Now that I wasn't hungry I wanted to try and find the guy with the monkey. I'm willing to pay for a picture with a monkey. The square was packed. There were far more people there than had been previously. I didn't find the monkey guy but before I knew what was happening I was posing for pictures with snakes, there was even one around my neck. That was a little scary. I know that these guys try to rip off tourists and that he would want money. I was fine with that and more than willing to give him about MAD 20 (US $2.80).

Snake Guy (SG) (while shaking my hand with two hands): Good luck, good life good fortune, now give me MAD 200 (US $24).

Me (loudly as there were other tourists around watching): That's extortion, that's ridiculous, I won't give you that!

SG: Shush, shush (I guess that my yelling was bad for his business) ok, MAD 100 (US $12).

Me: Yea right, I was going to give you something but now you get nothing!

He was holding my arm but still I turned and ran away. I forgot about the monkey and just weaved through the crowd, not even noticing the women following me and asking if I want henna tattoos. I just wanted out of that place. I couldn't take being followed and approached constantly any more. And part of me felt bad. I almost felt like I stole those pictures from him. I feel better about it now, he shouldn't have been so unreasonable. If I'm going to do this thing, travel around the world, then I really need to not feel bad when things like this happen. At least I got away with (hopefully) great pictures for free. That can't be bad!

The nice thing about travel is that even after some guy tries to rip you off your reminded about how good people can be. When I asked the first cab how much the ride would be he charged me MAD 60 (US $7.50), less than half of what I've paid before. With the good comes the bad, the good always out weights the bad, and the bad almost always makes for a good story.

How the Other Half Travels

I was filled with excitement as I waited for my plane to Marrakesh. I was also tired enough to sleep through almost the entire 2.5 hour delay on the runway. The woman sitting next to me was one of the stranger people I've been seated next to on a plane. First she sat in my seat and didn't want to leave it. Then, when she saw me reading my magazines she asked if she could have them. She hummed constantly. At one point she disappeared for about 6 hours. The best 6 hours of the entire flight. Some people should just not be allowed planes, or at least they should have their own section!

Due to the delay I missed my connecting flight in Casablanca. I had arranged to be picked up (I'm in Marrakesh for a work thing) through my event planner. I realized too late that I didn't have anyone's phone number to tell them that I would not be on my original flight. Still, someone called me and waited the additional few hours for me.

I had to wait for about an hour to check into my room. What was nice was that despite the fact that I looked like crap they treated me like gold. My room is amazing. I've never stayed in a place like this before. I have a king sized bed, a seating area and a little patio.

After cleaning myself up it was time to hit the town. By the town I mean Djemma El Fna, the reason to come to Marrakesh. Djemma El Fna is an amazing market with a souk right next to it. I felt like a kid in a candy store and I

walked around with a dumb grin on my face. Everywhere I walked the vender's called to me from the stalls. Everything looked am

azing, well, except for the sheep head and brain. There were also women wandering around trying to get me to buy henna tattoos from them. I do kinda want one, but I need to be professional for work. There were large circles of people with men screaming in the middle. I think they might have been story tellers.

I was attracting quite a bit of attention and it was exhausting. At one point I had about 6 guys around me trying to get me to eat at their stalls. I did the brave thing and I ran away. Eventually I found a stall that didn't beg me and I ate there.

I spent a few hours just wandering and meandering through the different stalls. In Jordan Rachel and I attracted a lot of attention but no one ever tried to touch us. Here, the men seem to have no qualms about grabbing my arm to try and get my attention. Once again I bought a necklace from the man who didn't call out to me. He did tell me that I am beautiful and he offered to give me a tour, to practice his English, not for money. Yeah right.

At one point I found a bunch of stalls that had animals and I really like the little turtles. To boys, around eight, pick up a couple of the turtles and tried to get me to hold them. I pretended that I was frightened and they laughed like crazy.

When I was done being starred at it was time for me to go back to the hotel. It took some time to find a taxi and during my walk up the main street in the modern part of the town men made kissy noises at me. I was able to bargain a bit for my cab ride.

After returning to the hotel I visited their bowling bar. It was empty and I was tired. So soon I headed back to my room for some sleep.