48 hours in Marrakesh. It's amazing how much you can fit in a weekend when you feel completely transported to another world. From a very snowy London we almost didn't make the short flight to our hot and sunny destination (but that's a whole other long story....). Before we knew it we were being driven in the oldest taxi I've ever experienced to the completely different sound of Arabic music playing through the radio and scenery made up of pinks and oranges. A completely beautiful mess, an assault on the senses. Orange juice, eat here miss, best food here, buy a lamp, I'll show you some nice rugs, snake charmer, take some rosemary to cover the smell of the tannery, blazing sunsets, friendly children, where is that music coming from?, pigeon pie, serenity, wall courtyard, little finches, sweet mint tea, small cakes, roses, back out into the market, how do we find our way out?, french, arabic, english, spices, bargaining, pink shadows, sunset again, time to return, all over too soon. Words feel empty when describing Marrakesh and so, I will write no more.