An immense amount of hassle - and the silliest, most annoying and likely most memorable in-transit day of any trip ever - finally brought us to Marrakesh via Chefchaouen, via Rabat, via a bus that we missed one of but the second took us 4+ extra hours to reach the outskirts of Rabat, with two never-explained passport checks mid bus ride (if someone takes your passport out of your hands and sight in a third world country... yes, be worried!) finally dropping us (and just us! the confused non-Moroccans) off on the side of the highway without an explanation (that we could understand) but with a huge multi-hour delay (and without any, not one during a 10 hr bus ride, bathroom break. yikes!) We were angry, confused, frustrated, a little afraid but really - and it took some reminding each other - we were okay. We worried so much that it made us giggle. Wait a minute, we are in Morocco. This rules. So what if we haven't seen a bathroom in 10 hours, and we don't know on earth we will get to a city 325 kilometers away by tonight? We are in Morocco, fulfilling a dream.
So we carried on, finally ate our first and only meal of the day in a train station (still-half-frozen pizza and leftover 1 euro muesli from Spain), found a bathroom (!), bought ourselves a first-class (fancy! but really, it was $7) train ticket, and boarded a train to Marrakesh ... only to get stuck in second class, literally STUCK because of our backpacks and it being packed with unseated people. STUCK! At this point it was all we could do to laugh until we cried at our exhausting and hilarious day. I don't think I could have done this and kept this high of spirits with anyone but Alex. For this among so many other things, this chick is a brilliant travel partner. If you aren't sobbing by the end of an awfully hectic and tiring day like that... you are a keeper in my book. Alas, we were on a train to Marrakesh, hours later than expected, but we were on our way.
Below: the brilliant cobalt blue art studio and home of Yves Saint Laurent in Marrakesh.