Last summer, I went to Morocco with my girls. I could write a book about the mostly sober shenanigans that took place over the course of 10 days. This is the story that started it off. 

Christina and I divide up the duties for the trip. I would secure the hotels, she would handle the adventures. Fine. 

I research and research. I am super picky about where I sleep, and in general, I don't do traditional hotels unless it's a last minute situation. Hotels are overpriced, and usually sterile. I picked a ryaid, a traditional Moroccan palace that's kinda like a bed and breakfast because well, the architecture is dope and we don't have them in the US.. I picked this specific ryaid because the decor was kind of like Morocco-meets- shabby chic, Old World--meets-new and black-and-white,  our room had a balcony and there was a rooftop pool. A review said it was a bit off the beaten path, but worth the trek. And it was close to the hotel where our friends are staying.