Lanterns hanging from a stall in the souks of Marrakech

So the crew and I decided to hit Morocco for a few days... Winter in London has become a bit tiresome, and we were in desperate need of some sun, shopping and relaxation...

In a nutshell, Marrakech was amazing. It was like something out of an "Arabian Nights" story... Between the four of us, we managed to get by in a weird concoction of Fusha, Egyptian and French... We got lost in the souks for hours, got charmed by the locals, went trekking up the Atlas Mountains, chilled in Casablanca... it was simply amazing.

And, in no Hanna story is complete without the love interest. Why is it that I can't go anywhere without meeting someone? In this case, it was a group of American tourists... four Muslim guys who were staying at our hotel. Two of them were tooooo hot for words... and somehow, they always ended up wherever we were. Even when we hired a 4x4 and went up the mountains, we saw them when we stopped in this little Berber village in the middle of nowhere for lunch. We took a plane to Casablanca.. and they were on the flight. We went for Jumuah in the Kutubia Masjid.. and sure enough, they were there too... not to mention sitting at the table adjacent to ours for breakfast, hogging the pool table next to ours in the evening... it was weird.

One of the guys, Hasan, finally got the guts to come up to us... and yeah, he was hot, he was charming... but he is AMERICAN and I had no intention of starting something up with someone who lives on the other side of the world.

BUT HE JUST WOULDN'T GIVE UP!!!

Oh well... it was fun while it lasted. :)

Aside from that, the hot hijabis did a few other crazy things of course... we got lost in the gorgeous little alleyways in Marrakech and I was DYING to see someone's house... so, being the mad, brazen hussy's that we are, we knocked on a random door and in pigeon Arabic, asked if we could have a little tour... the lovely family ended up making us stay for dinner! They were so sweet... really fulfilling the hospitable Arab stereotype.

Another highlight was, when in Jma el Fnaa at night, we whipped on our belly dancing belts and joined the professional dancers in the square... it was so much fun! There was nothing sexual in it, just a bunch of girls having fun... but I think some of the men took it as an invitation to hassle us. Not good.

Enjoy the pics...xx

(P.S.. I know I've been MIA but that doesn't mean I'm married! I'm just busy that's all!)

Above is the street we got lost in and then knocked on the door asking for a tour!

Above random street in Marrakech

Above little alleyway in Marrakech

I'm not entirely stupid. I know that I won't be able to find a decent man on the merit of my wit alone... Maybe if I were Elizabeth Bennett... but I'm not. There's no Darcy out there who is astounded by my verbal talents.

I'm not a Jane Bennett either, with beauty so breathtaking, that my face alone is enough to tempt any decent man, of good fortune, who is in want of a wife.

After much deliberation, I have concluded that, in order to make myself as attractive as possible to potential suitors, I have to be able to offer more than just a high libido.

Thus, last weekend was dedicated to domestication. If I can't get a man based on my looks or my (lack of) intelligence, I'll have to do it the good ole fashioned way - through his stomach.

I woke up early on Saturday, cleaned the entire house, went shopping for groceries... and made dinner. For the first time in my life. And you know what? It wasn't too bad! I made a roast leg of lamb, but it was more of a fusion between traditional English and Arab style... with all the trimmings.. and tiramisu for dessert. I outdid myself :)

You know what the odd thing was? It was strangely fulfilling. I regret to admit that I tend to scoff at people who make a big deal about homemaking... but I realised it does take a lot of work. Cleaning the house was like a workout in itself! But with the right tunes blaring out the surround sound, it was all good. I even did the whole dancing with the mop thing... I finally get what the fuss is about! Mr Mop is basically a short, skinny guy with dreadlocks.. not my type, but hey, the next best thing to a real man!

Sunday, I did it all over again. NOT! I haven't changed that much! I woke up late, considered cooking and dismissed the idea after about a minute of consideration. Instead, spent a couple of hours in the gym, working out, steaming, getting a facial and a massage. :) It's all about being a lady of leisure.

After that surreal, quiet weekend, I'm ready for party season! Bring it on!