Marrakech, where the souk swallows the map
My first night in Marrakech I stood at the edge of Djemaa el-Fna as smoke from the food stalls rose into a pink sky, and I forgot to take a photo for twenty minutes. The next evening I went into the souks with a map. The souk swallowed it. I came out in the dyers quarter just as the lanterns came on.
Mornings are the quiet half of the city. Jardin Majorelle at opening, cobalt walls before anyone else's shadow falls on them. The tanneries at dawn, color and mint and a smell you do not forget. The Bahia Palace in soft light. Breakfast on a rooftop, msemen and mint tea, nothing overhead but swallows. At night, dinner in a riad by candlelight. Marrakech is loud by design. You learn where it pauses.

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