Marrakech, Morocco 17.03.2011--20.03.2011

I find it ironic that the best weekend of my time overseas was in a Muslim country with no alcohol.  For an American in Spain, Morocco was unreal--It's no longer Western culture.  Stoplights occasionally seem optional and there's really no order to the way automobiles, horse-drawn carriages, bikers, and pedestrians function in the streets.  There is also no such thing as a fixed price for street vendors.  Bartering is the norm, which is nice if you have a way with words, but God forbid you make eye contact with a vendor and don't intend on buying anything because you won't have an easy time walking away.  And the Moroccan sun is a different animal.  I thought after one day in Djemaa el Fna, Marrakech's main square and market place, I had skin cancer.  The natives, though, have an unbelievable ability to withstand the heat--Pants and jackets are customary in 70°F weather.  I could have gone nuts with my camera, but I guess the locals don't like pictures being taken of them.  I'm not exactly sure why, but from what I could gather, they feel that tourists taking photos exploit them and their culture.

• It's illegal to take pictures of Moroccan police officers:

• From Djemaa el Fna:

•  I rode this bad boy:

• Raspberries:

• Bahia Palace (a near-replica of Alhambra in Granada):

• From the Majorelle Garden: