Morocco from the perspective of a woman in stilettosOr: As a woman in stilettos set out to get her butt ripped apart.
Everything started quite undramatic in Casablanca. I had expected so much from the city, which gave one of the most famous films of the last century its name. My disappointment was as low as my hopes high, when we arrived there.
One of the very view highlights of Casablanca
The only beautiful and nice thing was an old facade of the former Hotel Lincoln and thus our (almost) only photo shot of Casablanca.
Marrakesh: Dream of One Thousand and One NightsTherefore we straight away, took the train to Marrakesh and stormed the Medina and the night market.
In the Medina I spontaneously argued with locals, since they thought that we would need to pay if they would simply point the way to the labyrinth of the Medina. Not with me! And so I was just about to start a huge argument when I was (as always) rescued by the Travelnerd by distracting me with coffee and pastries.
Delicacies at the Medina
The next two days we spent trying to slouch on the terrace of our hotel (as any normal Globetrotter would do), exploring the area and treating ourselves at the night market with couscous and other delicacies.
When we took the bus over the Atlas Mountains in the direction of the Sahara, I was amazed on how diverse the Moroccan countryside is. It went up and down and the colour of the landscape changed from green to brown to red and back to green again. I was glad that I was on the bus and was not travelling with a bicycle, like I was forced to do so in Kyrgyzstan.
Atlas mountain range
At the intermediate stop in Agadz, I was amused with the hotel without water and beds, but with some dog barking all night long, had accordingly become annoyed and so, continued to the next stage Quazarzate, the next morning. The Travelnerd looked fresh and happy as always; Globetrotter seem to be immune to late-night disturbances and water pipe breaks.
Hell RideFinally arrived at the edge of the Sahara, I was getting nervous, but was also curious to see how two days would feel in the desert.
And it felt painful. My camel, the fat bastard, tore my butt apart after only a few minutes. No clinging and no good advice from the Travelnerd, who not only dressed as a Bedouin, but also posed on the back of his camel, would had helped.
Painful ride into the dessert
Just about time for me to get off that animal and enjoy the beauty of the desert walking on my own feet.
Faster than I thought, the magic of One Thousand and One Nights was over again - but I wouldn't forget this holiday soon, because Morocco's beauty had been seared in my memory and the camel's back into my butt.
I am very much looking forward to your questions and comments in the guestbook.
If you want to convince yourself of the beauty of Morocco, please click here.