Morocco, when I visited it some 12 years ago, in the winter of ’95, was a beggar’s paradise crammed with touts eager to harass all and sundry foreigners. I had piloted an RV over practically every road in Morocco and thought, right, I’ve been there, done that. I could not have been more wrong; in the last decade Morocco, with more than 100,000 visitors a year, has morphed into Europe—with no beggars or touts on offer, and, fortunately, without Europe’s stunningly inflated price tags.