Quite deceptive from the air,
Morocco appears so monochromatic.

Then you arrive at the airport, and it blossoms. First, you notice the blue, an intense 'not-a-cloud-in-the-sky' blue.

Then orange. Not just the color, but the smell of a newly peeled orange. A segment generously offered.

The 'music' of daily commuters plays on the way to the hotel.

Fresh olive branches and roses floating in a fountain pool perfume the lobby.

Sun warms your skin as it filters in,
creating shadow patterns in the room.

Woken by the local mosque's call to prayer before a tantalizing breakfast.

The Kasbah beckons and the adventure begins.

Many aromas drift along slight breezes, making it hard to resist the temptation to scoop up handfuls.

Vivid tiles weave patterns in all directions.

Sunlight dapples into
narrow passages.

Carefully carved patterns invite you to run your fingers along the grooves and edges.

Lunch made with local ingredients.

Patterns and patterns and color and texture and more color.

Cool to the touch.

Crisp bubbling water drowns out the city noise.

The lure of the rugs.

It's hard to resist caressing the luxurious goods.

Hidden treasures...

A pause. Drinking tea in the sun.

Late afternoon shadows.

Dinner in a tent. How better to end a day in Marrakesh?