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- Continental Breakfast
- Free High-Speed Internet
- Swimming pool
- Kids activities or Babysitting
TripAdvisor Reviews Riad Aya Marrakech
Travel Blogs from Marrakech
... awaits. As there is a road blocked off we have to transfer our bags to an old man (he was at least 80) who wheelbarrows them along. He did get rather cheeky asking for a lot of money at the end. At least he didn't keel over - I'd feel terrible. We head out for dinner on a rooftop over Marrakech ahead of our departure the following day.
What would be the point, you say, in going to Morocco and buying spices without whipping up a feast in ...
After two nights in Zagora, we started our way back northwest and ended up again in the seeming middle of nowhere. Our accomodations, the Kasbah Air Ben Damietta, was a wonderful place, run by a French woman; so the cuisine de haute was French - steak!
We also stopped at the Atlas Movie Studio outside of, here comes that name again, Ouarzazate. Lawrence of Arabia, Cleopatra, and Patton, among other, were filmed, at least in part, here.
... more Johnson and Johnson products that had kindly been donated and set off for the taxi rank.
As the staff brought baby after baby out to us I waited for Adam, nervous that they weren't going to bring him out today. As soon as I saw his little face I shamelessly went up and took him out of the arms of the nurse. As soon as I felt him in my arms I could smell the Baby Shampoo I'd previously donated, it was heart-warming to know it ...
... first thing that struck me was the heat. The second was the light which was also imbued with a pinkish hue. The third was the inefficiency of Moroccan customs which took an hour to clear. It was a relief to see the sign for “Mrs Naomi” being held by the driver we’d arranged through our riad (traditional guest house) still waiting for us. We followed him to his car and the adventure began!
It was a white knuckle ride to the edge of the city where ...
We come to an orange stall. To its left – an orange stall. To its right – an orange stall. Behind and in front – an orange stall. I have never been surrounded by so many orange towers in my life and, for a moment, I picture my parents receiving a phone call explaining my tragic death, not from the riots, not from a nasty encounter in a dark sin-filled alley but crushed to death by a mountain of toppled ...