Morocco marked my first trip away from my new home of Barcelona – Which actually sat above the Moroccan embassy. We were given firm no’s to snapping photos of the policemen, drank lots of Turkish tea, and found ourselves at the mercy of our tour guide hiking up the Atlas Mountains in flip flops.
The Riad we stayed at in Marrakech was easily one of the most beautiful hotels I stayed at while abroad for the price of a hostel. The owners were genuinely friendly and wanted to accommodate us in any way they could.
We had a guide walk us through the markets where we each bought sandals, spices, and photo ops with monkeys. Nighttime was spent with red wine, lamb, and couscous.
My favorite day was spent venturing outside of the city to cruise around on a camel and unknowingly hire a hike guide who ended up essentially tossing each of us up the Atlas Mountains while the call to prayer sounded. So. Cool. Even though my flip flops did little to support my feet and I slipped up & down the mountain the most of our group, it was a perfect day abroad. I was uncomfortable, a little scared, inconveniently unathletic, and loving every single minute.
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