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Getting to Marrakesh felt like part of the adventure itself. Four hours on the train each way gives you time to watch Morocco slowly shift—cities softening into countryside, colors changing, conversations fading in and out. It’s long enough to feel the distance, but comfortable enough to let your mind wander. By the time I arrived, I felt ready for something different. And Marrakesh is  different. Even as someone who’s been living in Morocco, it immediately felt touristy—and

I’ve heard about Moroccan hammams since I arrived — spoken about casually, recommended enthusiastically, treated as something both ordinary and essential. This week, I finally experienced one for myself. I went to Marsh + Mallow in Rabat with a friend, where we booked a manicure and pedicure, a hammam, and a blowout. The entire experience cost about $40 , which still feels a little unbelievable. This was a private  hammam, which is different from many traditional hammams here

There is something strange about realizing you’re in your last month somewhere — especially when that place still feels like it’s unfolding. I’m not leaving tomorrow. I’m not packing boxes yet. I’m still going to class, meeting people, riding the tram, walking my usual routes. And yet, everything now comes with a quiet awareness: this is one of the last times. The last month doesn’t arrive all at once. It creeps in gently. It shows up when someone asks, “When do you leave?” W