It’s hot. Not just hot, but HOT. Not the kind of hot about which you casually complain, but the kind where you moan out loud. It’s the kind of hot that makes a face drip sweat. At least mine. Sauna-hot. Carry-a-towel-with-you-everywhere hot. The kind of hot that makes you wonder what on earth you were thinking when you decided to visit Morocco in August?! Hot like when you turn on your car and it blasts piping hot air from the an A/C not yet
ready to act like an A/C. Seriously and ridiculously hot, dry, heat.

So we get up early and do what needs doing and we take a rest midday until it becomes more manageable. We are grateful for sweat because it cools us in the rare breeze. And we sit in an Internet cafe drinking cold water and juice whilst misters spray us, the whole time listening to French music. We are tranquil, happy, and mildly less hot here. Today, at least. Tomorrow we go to Sahara Desert where the temperatures are at least 20 degrees hotter.