Abdul took us to Bistro La Saveur, another riad in the newer part of Marrakech, for our final dinner.
I had the superb roast breast of duck, much better than the espresso martini.
We enjoyed a very merry evening. It's amazing how quickly you bond with an international group of strangers.
On Sunday morning, Thom and I rushed to the YSL Museum before departing Marrakech.
The guards ushered us into an exhibition of homoerotic work by Jacques Azema, a 20th century French artist unfamiliar to me. The internet doesn't offer much about him, either. Here's a self-portrait.
I liked the exhibition enough to buy the catalog.
This entry would have been much longer if the YSL Museum had permitted visitors to photograph the permanent exhibit of the designer's dresses. Its beauty brought me to tears. Really. Another gallery paid tribute to one of YSL's muses.
Some fanciful sketches were also displayed.
More succulents outside the museum. I shot this cactus fruit in portrait mode.
We shared a cab to the airport with Cole and Jeannie, who live on Haight Street in San Francisco. They met at a Goth bar and eventually made a pact: for every Nine Inch Nails concert Jeannie attends with Cole, he has to accompany her to Tom Jones!
Tom struck a pose at the Marrakech airport. Little did we know we were on stand-by for our Casablanca flight.
All's well that end's well. Royal Air Maroc found us seats at the last moment, but the propellers were a surprise.
