Souqs, fondouks and mosques are common sights in the Marrakech medina.
Thom was less than thrilled with the quality of merchandise. He's carrying his bag of biscotti.
Most souks sell souvenirs for the tourists who mob Jemaa el-Fnaa, the main square where snake charmers and chained monkeys offer a theater of live cruelty.
Uncaged birds seemed less offensive; nor did their owners demand tips for photos.
King Mohammad VI sees everything. He's ruled Morocco for more than two decades with a personal fortune of more than two billion dollars.
We wandered around for a couple of hours, observing daily life.
Without cars, you don't expect traffic jams.
More bikes.
We eventually stumbled upon the photography museum where an historical exhibit illustrated how little the medina has changed since the medium was invented. This cat watched us enjoy mint tea, lemon water and smuggled biscotti on the roof.
We did find a nicer shopping area near the museum.
I bought a meta sweatshirt at Max and Jan. It was either that or "Rock the Kasbah." The young salesman claimed he knew the Clash song, but I didn't believe him.
The artwork at the hotel reminded me of another leather souvenir I picked up for $10. The owner of the souk declared "You bargain better than a Moroccan." I'll bet he says that to all the shoppers!
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