But let me begin at the beginning:

Morocco was way cool, as expected. We were off to a wild start as we headed off on the 8:30 pm Royal Air Maroc flight out of JFK. Since we always try to get adjacent aisle seats, one's seatmate can tend to be an interesting experience.

This crazy, absolutely nuts Moroccan woman sat next to me and had me laughing and being all sorts of naughty even before the vacation had begun. She was hysterical without even trying! Hardly two hours into the flight she was leaning across the aisle, tugging on Charley's arm saying, "She good woman!!" (meaning moi, of course. ) I just hope he remembers this! All of the above is noteworthy because the computer labels which I normally use for postcards were tucked between the pages of a guidebook I had intended to read, but which she read to me...with commentary! Needless to say, the labels were lost and I had no address book with me. I could send postcards only to those whose address I know by heart!

We arrived in Casablanca in the morning and were met there by our guide, a sweet young (32 but seemed younger) Moroccan guy who reminded me of a guy I taught with for 28 years! He was darling. From there we headed right away to Rabat, then to Fez, stopping at Volubilis, a wonderful Roman city rivaling Ephesus in my opinion. From Fez we headed southward to Erfoud to meet up with our Land Rovers and onward into the desert, the highlight of our trip.

We got into a Land Rover with another couple  of about my age (i.e., much younger than Charley!) from New Hampshire, and we were to spend the next 6 days with them in this car. What a scream! Our driver met us in Erfoud wearing a burnoose, you know, one of those weird things on his head like Arafat. I chose him and his car just because he looked cool!

Well, he really WAS cool! What a hoot! By the time we arrived at our tented camp that evening, he was introducing me as Fatima Berbère and we were great buddies. I can say that this is one time in my life when speaking French really paid off. This was the only way we could communicate with him and we were the only group who could really communicate with their driver.

This guy was really great! By the next day, we all had Berber names (Charley was Abrahim! The other couple Achmed and Aicha!) We would get into our car in the morning, put on a cassette of Berber music, chant  "Berber, Berber!" and take off. We had what one might call esprit de corps, referring to ourselves as "la famille berbère"! (Achmed reminded us that "there's only one way out of the family...") What a hoot!

And then there was the desert itself. The first night was an absolute disaster---or at least I thought so the next morning after not one wink of sleep! The wind blew like hell all night long, slapping the walls of the tent into the side of my head. This is supposed to be fun ? I was less than impressed, even though we were camped at the foot of a gorgeous dune. The next morning we were to climb the damn dune to see the sunrise. When the wake-up (knock-up, slap-up, screw-up, or whatever!) came, I said the hell with it. I HAD to get some sleep---and I knew it would be cloudy with no sunrise to see.

We then did the obligatory camel rides (fun!), loaded up our stuff, and headed farther south into the desert to a much more remote location, where we were to stay for two nights. We were all optimistic about the wind situation; the sun was shining and the wind had diminished. We knew we were in for a great night. While we were in the dining tent yucking it up that evening, the wind came up and switched direction. Now, I'm no meteorologist, but many years of sailing have taught me that when it changes direction, this is not good. In fact it sucks! It was a hurricane!

What a wild night. Even windier than before, I packed up all my cameras in zip-lock bags and barricaded myself under the covers. The problem was at 2 am when I had to go to the damn loo, staggered out of the tent as into a snowstorm, flashlight illuminating the blowing sand! And it was really difficult to make my way just because of the wind, and because I had to shield my eyes from the sand. I kept thinking that I couldn't believe we had paid real money to do this. However wild it was, it mattered little that second night. We both slept like babies, so tired were we from our sleepless night before.

The good news is that the third day was gorgeous. The wind calmed and all was well. Of course by this time we had sand in our entire beings, but who cared. I don't think I'll ever forget the canned fruit for dessert which had sand in it, a little more each night! What to do but laugh! And grit!

During the day we would go on hikes, and drove out to a couple of oasis (just what IS the plural: oases???) where we would encounter nomads in search of water at the well. And then to see them out in the desert with their herds of camels! It was awesome! Everyone LOVED the desert! I've never been so thirsty in my life, although a liter bottle of water was my constant companion!

After the tented camp, it took us three more days to drive through the desert to Marrakech. The towns where we stopped to spend the night in hotels were really nothing but oasis towns! And what gorgeous scenery we saw, with the brown of the desert, the rusty red of the adobe, and the green of the oases! It is stunning!

We finally arrived in Marrakech, where we spent three days of needed R&R! And washed our clothes! We were quite sad to bid farewell to our driver, who we now referred to as Papa Berbère (the unenlightened just called him Papa Bear!) What a super time we had in that Land Rover---en famille!

So what's not to like about Morocco? We loved it! Good food, very friendly and smiling people! Our group of 15 was quite compatible and that, of course, always helps! We had a great guide, Abdel Hay, who was so sweet. About the second day, I mentioned that something or other was an aphrodisiac, and he got all embarrassed. Ah, an Achilles heel! From then on, every now and then I would throw in that word, he would get all flustered and blush, we would all laugh! By the end of the first week, he could handle aphrodisiac, but was not quite sure how to handle me! So he would just laugh! And so would I!

Are you tired?? I haven't even gotten to Spain yet...