The Burkations

This is a running collection of our epic adventures, big and small. Here are links to previous Burkations West Coast Adventure European Burkation Argentinian Burkation

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Near the port there is a hole in the city walls. Tourists flock here to take stupid pictures of themselves and their significant others. So that’s what we did. F it.

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This was one of the coolest experiences in Essaouira. After being mistaken for a Moroccan from the mountains (Berber), mostly due to my facial hair growth, it was time to get a shave. From a barber on the streets. We passed at least 10 throughout the city. This was one of the first we passed and I knew it was the one. An older gentleman, dressed in shirt-and-tie w/ white cloak who didn’t speak a word of English locked eyes with me and suddenly I was in the chair. The amount of care and attention (and speed) he took was incredible. He was an artist and my face was a canvas. A canvas with a crazy neck beard. After speedily and carefully making my face smooth again, I did the universal language for how much (rubbing my first to fingers together. He shrugged and did the universal sign for nothing (shooing me away). I gave him 100dh ($10) and the look on his face was amazement. It’s the very least I could pay him for the experience. He saw him later than night locking up. We locked eyes, nodded in mutual respect and that was that. 

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A guy and his meat. And his smartphone. Probably looking at cute kitten videos.

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This was a camel. A camel on the beach. Pissed off and awaiting the next tourist to ride its hump for 10 minutes.

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Stroll down the beach to the "Castle in the Sand," where Jimmy Hendrix was inspired to write the song even thought the song came out before his trip ever happened.

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Rooftop lunches, brunches interviews by the...Atlantic pool. Hanging out, lunching and looking at the sea.

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This is a Moroccan pancake, a msemen. We were served these every day. In large quantities. And this was one in Essaouira, a quaint beach town on the west coast of Morocco.

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Trying to leave Marrakech, we were abruptly confronted by this here horse. I secretly named him Carl. With a C. Off to Essouira.

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These guys, amongst hundreds of others, working hard to serve various meats and veggies to locals and tourists alike. Last meal in Marrakech.

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This was the most tame part of the Marrakech market. Lots of local goods to be haggled for. Lots of fake local goods to be overseen.

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Visited the old Ben Youssef Medersa Koran School. Beautiful.

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There are rows of food stalls in the main Marrakech square. And every stall has a posse of people trying to be your friend in an attempt to get you to dine there. We tried one that was almost exclusively full of locals. Their specialty was sheep's head. And you could also order brain. So we did. It was strange in color and consistency. Overall, super happy we tried it.

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Funky spices and wall art. Apparently the hair of mice is supposed to settle an upset stomach. Try it. Then let us know if it works.

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Arrived in Marrakech. It was a shock to the senses. We ate snails out of bowls for a dollar. It was perfect.

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This is a picture of Erin looking at the mountains. It's probably my favorite.

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This is a collection of all sorts of stuff from our drive into Marrakech. It was cool.

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Traveled through the mountains to Marrakech. Ran into some really cool art. This is made from saffron. Guy is burning the bottom to create the work of art. Also, the two pictures of us are on stairs. It’s something we do.