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August 19, 2011

Disclaimer: I have waited five days in Morocco to write a blog post. I’ve been debating whether or not to write only about the best of times I’ve had, (which have been wonderful) painting a lovely picture of my travels as I have for the past six weeks, or to really give you my take on Marrakech. I’ve gone with the latter. I apologize in advance for any offense my words may cause.

What a week. There are 100 things I could say about this city.

Morocco has been a whirlwind of sounds and colors. A complete sensory abuse as Jim put it.

All travel guides and websites describe Moroccan people as some of the kindest in the world – as genuinely nice people who will go out of their way to make a visitor feel welcome. While I will not argue with that description, after five days in Marrakech this has not been my experience.

The hassle for dirham is never ending. With bulls eyes on our foreheads we are pushed and prodded into shops, down this street or that and always with the expectation of a pay out. Sitting in wait for a passerby: “Big square? Big square is this way.” “Museum, Marrakech Museum is this way, I’ll take you there. No problem, no money, its no problem”.

Of course, in reality there are many problems if at your destination you do not give at least fifty dirham.

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