Hello from Morocco, where I’m sitting on the bed in my room in Chefchaouen aka “the blue city” with a stack of postcards. I’m working on my handwriting (which is terrible) and trying to make sending postcards a regular part of my practice, starting with a few of you. I’ll be sending five paid subscribers in the Inner Circle a postcard from Morocco, so be on the lookout for those in a few weeks.

And why am I here? Well, I left Tunisia early to come to Morocco and I’m giving you the tea on that below. But let’s just say it’s been such a sigh of relief to be back and such a joy to be hosting so many of you on our Morocco North trip, which just kicked off.

So far there’s been Uno games and Spades on the terrace, steaming tajines that make the table go silent, and stunning handmade rugs haggled over and packed away to bring home. And we’re just getting started.

More soon.

-Anela

I love stressing that man out.

More than once I've texted somebody's son in the wee hours of the morning saying something along the lines of, "I think I need to get the fuck out of this country."

This time I was messaging him from Tunisia, a fabulously beautiful country in the middle of a crisis.

See, what had happened was, I flew halfway across the world solo, arrived sweaty and bleary eyed, to explore this North African country that sits next to the Mediterranean Sea.

I was taking a few weeks before heading to Morocco and Egypt to host trips… Taking time to feel a bit of the rhythm of Tunisia, to explore its food and history, and to find out whether I'd ever bring you here.

So yes, I came to scout.

Tunis, the capital city, is breezy, with a bit of seaside charm. A friend of a friend picked me up, a stranger made less strange by their generous hospitality, and we walked along a lake in the city to watch the sunset.

I spent days wandering coffee shops and cafes, meeting more strangers who told me stories of their time in Tunis, their adventures in the country.

I slept in, waking up with no alarm and just seeing what the day would bring.

I went for coffees at 8pm, people watching as I re-adapted to the bustling nighttime culture that exists across North Africa and the Middle East.

I stayed a night at Dar El Jeld, a historic guest house with whitewashed walls and rooms that smelled like orange blossoms.

And in many ways it was idyllic though no place is perfect.

After an entire week of dining around the capital, I'm sad to report that I found most food to be quite bland.

I also experienced more colorism than I have in nearby countries. I stopped speaking Arabic for the most part, because I was immediately treated better when I spoke English.

After a week of wide open days, my time got more structured. I booked a tour.

The goal was twofold. See as much of the rest of the country as I could, and test a local tour operator. There's no better way to know if a supplier is reliable than to spend my own money and watch how they do it in person.

So on a quiet morning Mohammed, a guide assigned to me by the tour company I hired, Xperience Tunisia, picked me up. And we set off from Tunis by car.

We went to Dougga to see Roman ruins with only one other family there, walking through sites that in Europe would be packed with thousands of people.

In Testour, we walked to the local mosque with the Star of David embedded in the stonework. The city was built by Jews and Muslims fleeing Spain in the 1600s. We tried local cheese right from the makers who vend along the main street.

Knowing I love food, Mohammed would stop the car at random intervals, hop out, and quickly return with a treat. Fresh, in season figs from the farmer. Ripe peaches that drip juices down your chin as you eat them.

And the food was much better outside of Tunis. Fresher, much more flavorful. The kind of meals you'll remember forever.

My days of exploration also happened to land in the middle of a record heat wave. The kind that prevents society from functioning as we expect.

I could only spend 10 to 15 minutes outside before I risked heat exhaustion. Towns we stopped in had no power because the grid was overloaded. When power fails so does refrigeration, so does AC, and so do many electric water pumps. The effects cascade and people die.

It hit 118 degrees in the desert and the power went out in the fancy af hotel I had just checked into. I scrolled my phone and saw that protests had begun. Tunisians protesting the power cuts, but more importantly the mismanagement they see as the cause of it.

Now to be clear, I was perfectly safe. Cocooned in a resort far away from any disturbances, with a steady supply of fans and food and water.

But still. I know when to call it.

So I texted bae and called Mohammed, who had just gone to take the night off and rest before we started again the next day.

"Hey Mohammed, I think it's time for me to leave Tunisia. We're going to bake in our sleep tonight without power, there's protests, and more importantly, I shouldn't be here using all these resources when there's a fuel and water shortage. Can we go back to the capital?"

I was asking him to drive 6 to 7 hours across a good portion of the country, with no notice, to get me back to Tunis.

He said, "I think that's a good idea. I want you to feel safe and comfortable. I'll be there in 30 minutes."

So I packed my bags, and in a few short minutes he pulled up in the car with the AC blasting.

Somehow Mohammed even managed to bring me cold beers for the ride and get my desert hotel night switched, so I had a free night at the same chain in the capital. A location with working AC.

And more importantly there was no negotiating. No arguing. Just immediate movement toward the best possible solution for me as a traveler and a customer.

In a day I was on a plane to Morocco, where it was almost 40 degrees cooler when I landed. There's now a heat wave here too, it seems to have followed me. But no outages, and not so hot you feel like you're going to die. Just uncomfortable at times.

So I've been sitting here thinking about Tunisia. About how much there is to explore.

There’s the best olive oil you'll ever have, and there's a decent chance you've already had it. Tunisia is the third largest olive oil exporter in the world and the majority of it leaves the country in bulk, gets blended in Italy and Spain, and is sold under those labels.

There are Roman ruins that will ruin you for Rome. Beaches and desert so close to each other.

But I still don't know. I’m leaning toward it’s not somewhere I want to run a trip right now. But I'm not ready to say never either.

Which is a bummer tbh. I spent the money and came home with a maybe.

This kind of on the ground testing, meeting and evaluating suppliers and hotels and destinations, is the job.

It's how I make sure that when I do host a group trip somewhere, we end up traveling with the Mohammeds of the world.

Some of these are affiliate links. I don't recommend shit I don't use.

I’m spending the next two months hosting Unfiltered & Fed bbs from around the world on our trips in Morocco and in Egypt. Every day is a reminder of who I build these experiences for, who I have in mind when I’m scouting and testing…

It’s me, and you, and all of us who want to eat well, dive into local culture, and be taken care of for once. For the planners and organizers and oldest daughters who want to know they can just show up and they will be good.

That’s what it’s all about.

The landscapes in Patagonia rewired my brain chemistry. It’s almost impossible to describe the beauty of what is called “the last truly wild place on earth” other than to say I see why it’s a bucket list destination for people.

BUT, almost every Patagonia trip on the market is designed for expert hikers. Not for us. This trip changes that.

We start in the city in Buenos Aires, to experience true Argentinian Asado and learn about a part of Argentinian history often obscured, its Black History. Then we head to wine country, to the sweeping hills and tasting rooms that produce more than half of the Malbec we see on shelves, and so many other varietals. And then, we head to the wilds. First we’ll stay at a glamping stop that is our special haven to unplug, complete with guided hikes designed to be more accessible than expert. And finally we’ll end in the southernmost city in Argentina, the gateway to Antarctica, for another outdoor adventure and a tasting menu experience that’s one of my favorite in the world.

This is Patagonia our way, because nature belongs to all of us.

For this one, we use our access to take you deeper.

We start in Lima, one of the best food cities in the world, and we take full advantage. Unlike other operators who tend to skip it, we dedicate an entire day to Afro-Peruvian heritage. That includes lunch at the famed El Rincón que no Conoces and an afternoon dance class, because you don't really understand a culture until you feel the rhythm of it.

Then we take you into the Sacred Valley to visit a remote Indigenous community for Pachamanca, a meal cooked underground with hot stones, and to learn about weaving traditions passed down for generations.

And yes, of course, we go to Machu Picchu. But we don't march you back onto a train to Cusco after that very long day. Instead, we stay the night in a beautiful hotel in town so you have time to actually process what you saw.

We end in Cusco with a yoga class inside an ancient temple plus a cooking class and a farewell dinner with a Peruvian chef. I even take you to my jeweler for custom gold and silver pieces you'll wear forever (that they can make and deliver to your hotel later).

This itinerary is every single trip to Peru that I've taken over the years distilled into the best it can be for us. She’s lux, she’s culturally rooted, and she’s still almost half of what other operators charge for something similar.