Morocco

In the space of a couple of weeks I went from a blue-painted mountain town to a medieval walled city to a desert camp under more stars than I’ve seen anywhere else, and it never once felt like the same country twice.

This is a place that rewards moving slowly. The medinas don’t make sense on a map and aren’t meant to. The distances between cities look small until you’re on the road for six hours through mountains and plains. And everywhere you go, tea gets poured whether you asked for it or not. Below is where I went and what each place is actually like.