Arabian Nights

For the Christmas holidays we visited Morocco; the land of mountains and medinas, sand and souks, and of course, mint tea and tanjines!

This was on the way to our hostel in Marrakesh. It only got narrower and darker from here on in. The hostel itself was built around a beautiful central courtyard going up three stories to a roof terrace.

Just your average Mosque doorway in the Marrakesh medina.

The Kotoubia Mosque, completely rebuilt in the 13th century because the old one didn't quite point towards Mecca.

"Hello! Ali Baba! You want?"

Overlooking the main square and the Kotoubia Mosque at sunset.

Djemaa el-Fna.  Marrakesh's main square; the beating pulse of the entire country. 

Snow on Christmas day.  Driving through the High Atlas mountains.

The Three Kings.  

Good thing we didn't get carsick.  These roads threaten the stomachs of even the hardiest of travellers.

Ait Benhaddou; a Kasbah almost frozen in time from the 11th Century.  Also the backdrop to a few movies.

The Draa Valley.  

Drummers.  And a girl who didn't move.

We spent Christmas Eve sitting atop camels beneath the Saharan stars, eventually stopping at this camp site, where we woke on Christmas morning to a desert sunrise.

The Sahara on Christmas morning.

Intricate carving adorned every doorway and ceiling of the Bahia Palace in Marakesh. This is a close up of one of the pillars in the photo bellow.

The next city we visited was Fez.
If you hear Bakair! Bakair! then squish against the wall because there's a horse coming up on ya (but don't go into a shop whatever you do).

The Jedi knights of Fez. Most of whom appeared to be out of work.

Satellite television comes as standard.

The tanneries in Fes.  What the camera doesn't capture is the smell.  Suddenly the giant bunch of mint we were handed at the beginning makes a lot of sense (no pun intended). 

"Hard work if you can get it."

No pearls in sight.

Overlooking the Fez medina. Nowhere is completely free of (very polite) blanket sellers.

Next up was a little town called Chefchaouen. It is known for having been painted blue in the early 20th century (I don't know why) and also for having a plentiful supply of a certain plant in the vicinity.

Chefchaouen; the blue town.

A mountain stream cuts through the medina of Chefchaouen.

We climbed partway up a mountain with Marcel (wearing hat) where we managed a few minutes of isolation before a man hoping to sell a said certain plant spotted us...

Chefchaouen puts Wellington to shame.

Even the graffiti is blue.

Some actual photos of us...

This is now in Tangier in the very north of Morocco. It's something about politics. Apparently.

The medinas were cleaned meticulously every morning. Not too sure where all the rubbish was supposed to go but there were a lot of plastic bags and bottles floating about the country side.

Tangier was a bit of a non-event really (great patisserie though) so we only stayed one night before heading back down south on the night train.

Our trip finished back where it started, in Marakesh. By now we were accustomed/fed up with the whole pushy sales technique but it was a laugh watching new travellers coming in and getting quickly sponged of their money. It makes you feel  wise and worldly. For a moment anyway.