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:
- Bahia Palace (a near-replica of Alhambra in Granada):
- From the Majorelle Garden: