Three hours out of Casablanca, into North Africa's hottest tourist spot 'Marrakech' lies so much culture, so much heritage and a hell of a lot of my flesh.
...No thanks to being attacked by a conniving family of Cacti.
So unfortunately my first morning in this fabulous city consisted of a full body tweezing... OUCH!
Word of advice...NEVER, I repeat NEVER, feel the need to pose with the porcupine of the plant world, no matter how pretty they pretend to be.
A few much needed Malibu's later I was feeling fabulous and ready to take on the 'real hustle'.
But my goodness! nothing could have prepared me for the sweaty world wind that was about to follow.
Im tongue tied pretty much most of time, so to put this whole experience into words is touching on impossible.
But this place is an absolute spicy feast for all the senses & I cant help but feel blessed to experience such 'through Michael Palin's eyes' wonder.
The dusty rose pink city is a sprawling network of activity from dawn until dusk. With market stalls in abundance, your nose (and your wallet) is tantalised by the rich scents of leather and the sweet smells of spice. Your ears filled with the sounds of snake charmers, men with monkeys, fortune tellers, food vendors and prayer from the hidden miniature mosques.
You can almost taste the mouthwatering Tagine, super sugary mint tea but of course all I was craving was a Mcflurry :)
In such a place you can experience so much wealth, yet so much poverty. So much beauty, yet so much ugly. But above all, just so much more than you could ever expect.
My first taste of snails!
& As it is most unlikely I will be unable to blog over the course of the next week, here is a few more Romantic, Raphy captures to keep you going through the wet, winterous days.
By the ever lovely Iain Thompson