And then there is this huge city, this destination vacation land, this Orlando of the northern fringe of the Sahara. The train station, its scale, openness, terraces, shops and sleek lines is a marvel. In itself, worth the trip. And, then, unexpected for me, the high snow covered peaks of the Atlas mountains that frame the city. Quite like the high Front Range strikes above the Denver skyline. I look again to make sure I am in the right place, continent, and after getting several sets of directions arrive at the hotel. So Marrakesh has its traditions, its past as an imperial city...from which the Almoravids and Almohads ruled north to Spain and south to Niger, holding together rich trade routes in cloth, slaves, jewels...but it also has its present incarnation as the destination of huge tour buses or package tours. European families with children and strollers and cameras crowd the souks during the day. But the sun is bright, the air is dry...if somewhat full of pollution from cars and mopeds...and the spirit is one of a holiday town.
