Djemaa el Fna

2 young women, who don't look the slightest bit of Moroccan, traveled to Marrakech, Morocco last weekend. They had no plan, no hostel reservations, yet managed to have a great trip, despite many people's advice telling them otherwise. Yo no iría they told us. But we did go and here I am, back in Madrid, living to tell about it.

It was a travel experience like no other. My first time in Northern Africa, a Muslim, male-dominating society where the harsh sounding sounds of Arabic and various Berber languages fill the streets. Though it was only a brief two day stay, I felt that this was enough to satisfy my previous curiosity of Morocco. We were able to experience the amazing tastes and flavors of Moroccan cuisine - the tajine, couscous, and kebabs. It was a vegetarian's dream with such a selection of tasty dishes all containing fresh vegetables, chickpeas, and legumes. My favorite gastronomical experience yet with the sweet curry flavors and saffron spiked stews.

What suprised me the most about our stay was the locked away French knowledge that seemed to easily escape me when bargaining for teteras (teapots) to make that wonderful Moroccan mint tea with the most freshly picked mint or negotiating our hostel down to 150 dirhams a night (less than 15 euros for the room ... about 7 euros per person).

I still wake up each morning craving their freshly squeezed orange juice that truly is the best OJ in the world. Be prepared to only pay .12 USD for a big, refreshing cup.

The only real regret I have about the trip, however, was witnessing the tragic end of a small companion that sneakily accompanied us until our last night. Our dear lizard friend that slept in the corner of our 150 dirham a night room saw its end to a Moroccan flip-flop. Poor thing. And we caused all of this to happen, fetching the owner to come to our room, simply to dispose of it by putting it out the window. Yet our little friend had to be difficult and scurried underneath our bed, in pure fright and confusion. After tearing the room apart searching for him, his curly tail was finally spotted by my eagle eyes under the bed frame. Our last instructions were to SORTEZ! the room and the last thing we heard was a heavy flip-flop hitting the floor, as this little guy (or girl) met his/her end.

Thankfully, after a few moments of sadness for the brutality against our poor lizard, we slept soundly that night, only to safely make it to the airport the next morning and return unharmed to Madrid. We can now tell the tales of the enchanting camel rides, desert legends, the Atlas mountain range, the Ourika valley and its waterfalls, and mysterious Marrakech.