At the edge of the Sahara, the sight of the mighty Erg Chebbi dunes looming over an ancient desert fort, reflected in the mirror of a tranquil oasis, seems too perfect to be true.
Similarly, like an elusive mirage on a sea of yellow, the Auberge Yasmina looks impossibly beautiful.
Round every corner the images continue. One day I am standing in the stark whiteness of Midelt, feeding nuts to snow-covered Barbary Apes. The next, my eye is caught by a red jellaba framed against the intricate Moorish architecture of Fez.
Then there are Essaouira's blue-hued fishing boats, rainbow-coloured rows of shoes, multi-hued piles of spices, pink babouches and palm-fringed Kasbahs all demanding attention.
But, above all, it is the people who leave an indelible image.
From the curious Berber boy with pre-aged hands to the wary guardian of the medersa, every "Salam a Lakum" opens the door to another room in culture that is best described as proud.
Each Moroccan I met knew that they lived in a beautiful part of the world... and who could disagree.
Further information: See visitmorocco.org.