A woman in Marrakech...

Marrakech is an "experience". In the Djemaa el-Fna, snake charmers, henna ladies, musicians, and basically everybody is out to make money off of tourists. It can be a bit overwhelming at first, but it actually becomes comical once you understand it - assuming you didn't get suckered. Likewise, wandering through the souks can be a minefield of aggressive touts, but it's good fun once you understand the way things work.

Even outside the souks, though, I find it tedious to be a woman here in Marrakech. I can't go anywhere without some random 20-to-30-something year old modern Moroccan man attaching himself to me like glue. In fact, I find it more tedious in Marrakech than in Italy - and that's saying something. Perhaps it'd be less tedious if my French was better, but it gets old trying to shake off some dude and not make things worse. I'm over it and ready to move on. C'est la vie. (The only thing I can think of is that, although some Moroccan women opt not to wear the hijab, my hair is really long and noticeable - on top of the fact that I'm obviously not Moroccan and, thus, attract attention. Who knows the real reason?)

Fortunately (I guess?), my time in Marrakech is coming to an end. I've booked a 2-nt/3-day tour to the Sahara (which almost didn't happen due to the weather in the High Atlas mountains that you have to cross on the way to the Sahara - i.e. snow/ice), then plan to crash one additional night in Marrakech before leaving for a few days in Essaouira to wrap up my holiday...hopefully in a bit warmer, more restful environment. It's been cold, here - and it'll be really cold in the desert!!

Sidebar: It also seems impossible to come to Morocco and not wind up getting high off second hand hash smoke. It's not "legal", but seems almost as pervasive as the fresh orange juice stands...