After a heartfelt farewell with our newst Moroccan friends, we set out for the train station and an overnight train for Marakesh. Having been unable to connect with our "live-in" cousin, Tamar, in Fes, we were determined to cross paths in Marakesh. Our 5:30 am arrival was a bit less eventful than our experience in Fes - this time we had a reservation at the charming Hotel Chellah. We spent our day watching snake charmers, walking through the medina, and most importantly, searching for the remains of the old Jewish Quarter (the Mellah). After some effort and lots of hassle, we gained entry into the courtyard housing the last functioning synagogue in the area. Dana conversed with the shomer (guard) of the shul in Hebrew and learned that there are approximately 260 Jewish people in the area and that the shul is still used for prayer 3 times a day and is 500 years old.

Just as exciting, but only dropping a few Dirham into various telephones scattered throughout the city, we managed to track Tamar down at her hotel. Unable to contain our excitement, Dana and I changed our plans to head southeast to Tinehir in the morning in order to spend time with Tamar and meet her parents. We could not have been happier to see a familiar face, nor more thankful for Tamar's parents' hospitality and generosity. We spent a 1 1\2 days with the Cohens and enjoyed every moment.

Unfortunately, our five-star detour had come to an end, and at 5am on May 6th we boarded a rickety, rundown, and extremely uncomfortable bus to Tinehir. The seats were so close to one another that even Dana felt like she had long legs. To add to our adventure, although there was adequate space within the underbelly of the bus for our packs, they were thrown on the roof and secured with a netted tarp. With every 180 degree turn into the Atlas mountains, Dana and I thought surely our belongings were going over the nearby cliffside.