No Room at the Inn

Dar Noury is largely a barefoot house. Not out of any effort to keep it clean, as the pink dust of Marrakech blows in through the open courtyard layer upon layer, but more out of laziness and the pleasure of having smooth tiles underfoot. Someone else decided he liked the look of our courtyard, too, our tile stacks providing an ideal spot to sun and relax. Rearranging them this morning, the interloper was discovered, and scarily close to Samuel's fingers. Safely (for us, at least) pinched between two tiles, we were able to get off a quick shot before Hannan dealt a swift blow to him with her bubble gum pink flipflop. As with the opportunistic mice of late, we hope word gets out to the other ugly exotic insects: There's no room at Dar Noury!