1984: the Pyle’s Moroccan holiday

Donkey pair, donkey pair, donkey pair, single (donkey). My family's holiday economies are odd. 5 star hotel/tor the city by one donkey cart. This is my sharpest memory of the 1984 trip, I must try harder and summon more. Disappointment at the obviousness of Marrakesh's market. I could stand at the spice merchants and and see straight through to to the silversmith. Marrakesh's medina could be done guide-less, though the guides claimed otherwise. In Fez (our first stop), a glimpse of the medina suggested a guide to disentangle. Marrakesh was flatness to Fez's hills. This was desert, no confusion of host continent here. From Marrakesh I took away dust, from Fez: intrigue - leather curing vats and madrases in session and the false but pleasant feeling we were the only tourist for miles. Also: fewer touts and a restaurant in the hills with a ceiling that pulled back to the stars. That Marrakesh has now outpaced Fez in the civic popularity race, its (linear) alleys edged by super chic french run ryads. In the super-chic guide I read, sized to fit in a super chic small bag, Marrakesh was worldly traveler who read wallpaper. C - expecting to be amazed.