Marrakech.....

We had all heard stories of Marrakech and her endless labyrinth of souks. Carpet souk, food, ceramic, iron and the slippers in the leather souk that would tempt us all. Hand carved lemon wood kitchen utinsils are fantastic, and they fit easily down the side of our cases.
Place Jemma Fna is a delight. It is mandatory that you have a large glass of the best orange juice in the world, sold here from rolling kiosks. I was told that the harsh climate and scarce rain creates citrus that is so concentrated nothing can compare to the flavor. I completely agree.
In the evenings, once the sun sets, food stalls pop up everywhere as the snakes and monkeys head home after a hard day of working the crowds. If you feel adventurous you can go for the roasted goat's head being sold in several stalls.
There is fantastic people watching from the fringe of open air cafes that surround the square.
The Majorelle Gardens are not to be missed. French painter Jacques Majorelle fell in love with the light of Morocco. He created the gardens during his days of painting in Marrakech. French fashion designer Ives St. Laurent bought this property, restored it, and it is magnificent. Here you will find the most intense blues ever.
There is a small museum on the grounds with the most exquisite pieces I have ever seen. Robes of brocade, scarves, jewelry, knives and swords, old doors, rugs, camel blankets, all presented in the most tasteful setting.
The gift shop has a selected assortment of the finest items. The blue is a major focus here as well. The cafe has lovely iced things to cool you down and if that isn't enough the intermittent misters will.
After 5 days and nights in the exciting high energy of Marrakech we said our farewells and headed for the Sahara.
Get out the motion sickness pills, it is time to head over the High Atlas mountains.
Several of us were Aromatherapists, and others simply loved the scent of roses. The Valley of the Roses, in El Kelaa M'Gouna, is where the French come each year to harvest the roses and extract the oil for the French perfume industry. The roses grow here in hedges that meander around this village. Children line the roads selling necklaces of tiny rose buds that are so fragrant, and the scent lasted for months.
We spent 2 nights on a bluff overlooking an oasis in a very old mud brick Kasbah.
Some took long walks exploring some of the ruined Kasbahs in the area, others picked apricots, some swam in the shallow river that wound through the oasis, while others rested or read.
We drove out through the Dades Gorge and all of it's rose red splendor. The Todra Gorge was similar to the Swartburg Pass in South Africa with it's high walls, and a river running through it.
The entire area was planted out in Palmeries. We stopped and did a walk through one to discover what lay under this canopy of palm trees. There were women working the land, children playing, goats and cows roaming, all under cover of the palm trees making it much cooler than in the open desert.