Camels, turbans, and the desert

We're back from the desert, sore from camel riding with odd burn marks on our bodies. Somehow being back in Marrakesh feels like home which makes zero sense. But our hostel is so amazing that we had to come back to swim in the pool and sleep in a real bed.

We left Marakesh a few days ago and traveled by bus to Zagora. I've heard people recount their stories of terrifying bus rides and I always think that it can't be that bad. This was that bad. The bus kept going up and up through the Atlas mountains and we kept looking down and down. The bus driver honks once before going around a turn, as though thats going to do anything if there is another car, walker (people walk up this) or donkey. The honk is just information that we will hit you. Hey, watch out, we are about to plow through you. On the trip to and from, there were people throwing up. Totally normal to the bus driver. And once one starts... Everywhere, gross, yuck. AND STILL there were people lying on the floor of the bus. Just snoozing. No biggie.

We made it to Zagora and were brought to our hotel by the Kazbah. Its very different from Marakesh. These houses are made up brick, clay and hay? Its the desert and looks like the desert. I still don't totally understand what a Kazbah is. Antoine, the owner of the hotel, gave us a tour and showed us maps. It was interesting though the kids throwing rocks at us were a little unnerving.

The next day we prepared ourselves for the desert, buying wraps for our heads and lathering on sunscreen. How does one pack for the desert? No idea. We met our guides, Mustafa and Achmed at the front of the hotel with three camels just sitting in the shade. We couldn't have been whiter or more UN-Moroccan (see pictures), but we did it. Our guides were hilarious and knew more about America than we did. This seems to be a theme with all the people we meet, but for guys who didn't go to school and trek through the desert 355 days a year, it's pretty amazing. Mustafa and Achmed cooked for us and sang songs. They slept in the sand. We slept outside on tiny mattresses with our blankets over our heads because of my fear of snakes and stories of Jackels they told us. Not to mention the beatles that were the size of my hand. In the middle of the night the moon was so bright and the three camels were just hanging out grunting next to us. It was pretty amazing. I almost forgot about the snakes. Almost.

Our last stop in Zagora was the rug shop that we had promised (never promise anything) to come back to. Anthony haggled for rugs successfully. It was impressive to watch. "But I am just a teacher..." The flies were everywhere and we were drinking extremely sugary tea that I am convinced was making me want to buy more and more silver jewelry that I didn't need. We ended up with two small rugs and some little things that we can barely fit in our bags. Anthony is a prized haggler, so much that I think he should keep it up in Turkey. He says otherwise.

It's our last day in Morocco; we leave for Casablanca today to get our flight to Israel. We're about to start our super fast trip through the Middle East. More later. Love, Michelle and Anthony