"Meow".
Our conversation had been interrupted in a slightly startling fashion by a feline voice coming from somewhere under our table. It was a feeble looking street cat (with a voice that was far from feeble) hugging my legs. It was clear what she wanted. A few ear scratches and a lion's share of our lunch. You cannot ignore her. You cannot continue your conversation. You cannot even get back to your train of thought after being interjected so strongly (and so charmingly) by one of Chefchaouen's very own heroines.
And this is the essence of our time at Morocco.
There were interjections & interesting sights around every corner and when they have presented themselves, you had little choice but to devote your undivided attention to it until another sight/sound/smell threw your thoughts and emotions into complete disarray. In this photo-essay, I hope to be able to have a similar effect on you - to disturb your senses with the colorful madness that is Morocco.
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