I don´t really know where to begin in describing Morocco, so I´ll begin at the beginning. Arriving all alone in Marrakesh at night was all that I had feared - dirty, noisy, hot and completely overwhelming. I loved it instantly. I was grateful that I had taken the unusual step (for me) of booking a room ahead. But my hostel was in the heart of the old city where cars can´t go, so the minute I was dropped off at the city walls, I was lost. I looked around to see only men, and to hear a few of them offer to guide me to where I wanted to go. There was nothing to do but say "non, merci" and stride confidently off in a random direction as though I knew exactly where I was going. The streets were narrow and winding, had no signs on them, and the moment I hesitated at a corner, I was again descended upon with offers to show me the way. I´m not entirely sure why I refused - stubborness, perhaps, or because I had no local currency yet to pay them. Probably the latter was just an excuse for the former. I just kept ducking into shops where the people looked nice and using my pitiful french to get pointed in the right direction. I felt like I was getting close when the proprietor of a carpet shop I asked for directions from told me to follow him - through a maze of even darker and narrower streets. Either I wasn´t even close to my hostel before or I was about to get robbed. Fortunately, it was the former and he delivered me safely to the front door of my riad.
According to the dictionary, "riad" (Arabic: رياض) is a traditional Moroccan palace with an interior garden. And palace it was! When the door opened, my jaw hit the carpet. I have never stayed in a place so luxurious in my life. There´s nothing worse than people who go on vacation and come back and describe their hotel in excrutiating detail, so I will spare you except to say that it was such a relaxing juxtaposition to the chaos outside its doors. It was full of wonderful people, both working and staying there, and it would be my oasis for the next few weeks.
The next morning, the street to my riad felt much friendlier when I went out to explore the "souqs", or Moroccan markets.
You can buy anything you want in the souqs of Marrakesh. 
Spices.
!
Make-up. The grey stuff is for charcoaling your eyelids and the red stuff is lipstick.
Natural dyes for clothing and rugs.
You can also find a few things you might not want.
During Ramadan, people aren´t eating or drinking anything (not even water) during daytime hours. Needless to say, the night it ended, and for days afterward, it was a huge celebration.
I was finally able to find an alcoholic beverage.
I had to wait three days for this beer but, when I did, it was a truly Moroccan experience.
Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world...
They served really tasty, cheap food in the market at night and it was such an experience to be there, especially after Ramadan.
The tastiest food by far, though, was in our riad. This is called a ´tagine´and takes hours to cook.
It is a traditional Moroccan tofu dish. Just kidding, I haven´t been particularly vegetarian here, but am not too sad about it.
On the other end of the food spectrum...
After a few days in Marrakesh, I headed for the beach town of Essouira, on the Atlantic coast of north Africa, with Jimmy and Graeme, a couple of fantastic folks I´d met at the riad.
The next day, we went through the mountains to a Unesco world heritage site called Ait Ben Haddou. It is an ancient city but six families still live in it. Part of the film ´Gladiator´was also filmed here.
Newer towns don´t look much different and are all the same colour as the surrounding hillsides, since they are made out of them.
After returning to Marrakesh, I decided it was time to partake in another essential Moroccan experience: the hammam. Eschewing the modern westernized spas, I headed for a traditional bathhouse (the building with the pink arches). I won´t go into the details, but I got SCRUBBED! I have never felt cleaner or more relaxed in my life. On the way back to the riad, these little boys asked me what I was searching for and I was honestly able to say "je cherche pour rien". I was very content.
Relaxing on the roof of the riad after my hammam.
After a week in and around Marrakesh, a few of us headed through the mountians for the Sahara desert.
On the way, we stopped to have tea with a Berber (desert nomad) family. 
Fatima makes rugs out of silk, sheep and camel wool that take 6 months to make.
This is one of her carpets, made of camel wool.
The Berber symbol for equality in marriage embroidered into a rug.
Some graffiti we saw along the way. It looks like beautiful art on the side of the road, and I love that it probably says "Grad ´95" or "Fatima and Mohammed 4ever"
Dates on a donkey. They were delicious.
We rode camels into the desert. Mine was named "hammer".
Justin, who I travelled with for a bit, and who made me proud to also be Canadian.
Our camp in the desert. 
The berbers who led us out there played drums and traditional songs for us, then asked us to share songs from our respective countries.
The guys from New Zealand did the Haka, a traditional Maori chant.Justin and I sang Summer of ´69 by Bryan Adams, of course. Luckily everyone else there knew the words and drowned me out.
We slept out under the stars then watched the sun rise over the Sahara.
On the way back, we stopped at the Todra Gorge for the afternoon. I met a wonderful local named Ali, and was able to do a bit of climbing. He calls it paradise, and I have to agree.
We caught a ride back into town in the back of a dump truck.
Although a bit sad to be away from home for my birthday, I had a wonderful day. I had a bath in the riad and felt like quite the princess. Marty, Ireland´s hottest up and coming artist, gave me a drawing lesson.
And then it was time to leave.
Last night while waiting for my plane to board, I wrote this in my journal: "I´m leaving Marrakesh and leaving a piece of my heart here in the chaos and beauty that is Morocco. What is so sad is that it will never be the same. I can come back here, and I will to climb in the paradise that is the Todra Gorge, but the same confluence of people and experiences won´t happen again. A different one will, and it will be good, but this has been so unique and special it just makes me want to cry. What a beautiful reminder of the importance of embracing what frightens you - to be alone, the unknown, not speaking the language, not understanding the culture. Because, in the end, people are the same everywhere and you can always learn to say "hello" and "thank you" and a lot can be communicated through these two simple phrases. Salaam aleikum and choukran Morocco. I will miss you.
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