Marrakech, or you can't get there from here.

I had never used my Frequent Flier miles.  I had never quite figured out how to do that.  So they kept growing to over 100,000.  Time to cash them in for this trip.  Well USAir and its Star Alliance partners could not get me to Marrakech.  Madrid was as far as they could manage.  Marty and Paul were going to be routed through Frankfurt by their carrier.  Not a big deal.

How do you pack for a place that you know nothing about?  Will it rain?  Will it be blistering hot?  Will the hotel have any laundry service at all?  If you do not know Magellan's, I recommend them.  Not cheap.  But very savvy products for travelers.  By relying on their washable products I was able to pack light, carry three changes of clothing and all the other stuff I needed for the trip and still had more clothing than I actually needed.  Microfiber is a good thing, especially in a hot and dry climate.

Madrid-Barajas Airport

The flight was nice and I actually slept.  I arrived at the Madrid airport.  That is a true misnomer, because there are five of them, all connected by subways.  It is complicated. Each terminal has four floors.  You are obligated to walk though the Duty
Free Shops just to get to your gate.  Many times, and many Duty Free Shops. I got through immigration and customs. I got back through security and got all the way to my gate.  I had left my fanny pack with passport at security.  So all the way back through the maze of subways, elevators, duty free shops and escalators to the other end of security.  I found the line I had gone through and they had my stuff.  Great relief; great lesson.  Do not leave security until you are secure in all your stuff.

I was now aware that there was a large blister formed on the ball of my left foot.  

Two hour flight to RAK, the airport at Marrakech.  Marty and Paul were scheduled to arrive before me and we were to be met by the driver from MonRiad.

Lost Luggage.  

Marty and Paul had arrived before me.  Their luggage was not aboard their jet from Frankfurt.  Marty was negotiating that with the airport.  I knew none of this, went through immigration and customs, found my luggage, and exited into the enormous, cavernous, echoing terminal.   Ranks and ranks of men standing with signs of names of hotels, groups, travelers, etc.  I found my guy, determined that he had not seen the others.  Paul, Marty and I left the airport two hours later, no luggage but reunited.