One year ago I was in Morocco. One year ago I was riding camels, eating tagine and completely lost in the souks. Morocco has an incredible physical distance or cultural distance ratio, meaning that while it is only a 1 hour ferry ride away from Spain it is really a world away. Yes there are high rise hotels and all the modern trappings of the west but you still can find your self completely surrounded by it's magical old world feel. Those impossibly narrow alley ways that travelers dream of, the impressively aggressive touts, and the food. Ohh the olive oil drenched wonders, paired with sweet mint tea was a must three times a day. 

One particular village that will for ever be with me is Chefchauan. This city painted blue was a gem. Beautiful hikes, friendly people and the type of authenticity that people will blabber on about much to the eye rolling of their domestic friends. When I was leaving this city for Tangier, I saw this old man carrying a 50 kilo bag of sand. Staggering up the steep streets in slippers he wandered his way through the allies for twenty minuets to deliver his package. On his journey I snapped this photograph of him, which is for sale in the print store.