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Mad for Morocco
Europe meets Africa meets Islam
Getting there
Even for Americans, it's not such a big journey. I flew direct to Casablanca (yes, like the movie, but the modern version bears little resemblance) from New York City, about a seven-hour flight. And for most of the trip, I drove, spending three days in Marrakesh (worth it), two days in Fes (one might have been enough), one in Essouria (wish I could have stayed a week — this is where the Hideous Kinky crowd hangs out now), one in Rabat, and one in Meknes. Quite a tour in a week, given the mind-boggling diversity of what you can do in Morocco.
What to do
From camel trekking in Zagora to surfing in Safi; from Marrakesh's carnival-like bazaar at Djemaa el Fna square (filled at night with snake charmers) to the serene confines of the Majorelle Gardens (owned by Yves St. Laurent); from driving the desert road on the way to Tan Tan to skiing at Oukaimeden: from visiting a traditional tannery in the Fes medina to seeing how argan oil is made at a women's collective of divorcees and widows; from the semolina cake-like Berber breads to the steaming clay tangine pots filled with prunes and lamb; from the Roman ruins at Volublis to the medieval gates of Meknes — Morocco is a total assault on the senses.
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