India, Dec. 7 -- Dear Reader,

I've become obsessed with doors. You see them everywhere in Morocco - ten feet tall, set into the high, windowless walls of the ancient Medina. Burnished oak studded with metallic rivets, sometimes painted with flowers and leaves. There's the sheer beauty of these doors, and then there's the mystery of what lies behind them.

In Fes, I walk through one such door and find myself in another world. Gone are the ruined Medina streets with their peeling plaster. I'm standing in a beautiful courtyard at a long table set with candles, silverware, and a bowl of oranges.

"That's your room," says Karen, the Norwegian woman who comes to greet me. She points toward the centre of the wrought iron latticed balconies surr...