Take food. I missed out on much of Morocco's famous cuisine by insisting on meatless meals incorporating locally grown organic produce. That's because Moroccans are omnivores, and those who aren't get bland veggies and couscous most of the time. I had a few gastronomic victories, such as baked stuffed calamari at Lalla Mira, an Essaouira "bio-hotel" that uses solar panels and organic cotton sheets. And I savored the nine well-seasoned vegetables at the Riad Maison Bleue, which preserves tradition by serving up time-tested family recipes. But I also created a lot of garbage by drinking bottled water—18 bottles over eight hot days—because I didn't trust refillable water-filtering bottles (recommended by The Ethical Travel Guide) to remove perilous bacteria. And when I nobly decided to support a young merchant by getting a cheese-and-veggie sandwich from his less than busy food cart, it had the effect of increasing my time spent in the bathroom for the rest of the trip. So much for karma.

Shopping was also a mixed bag. Heritage Tours had steered me to a cooperative where women, illiterate and often divorced, keep 80 percent of the profits from the sale of high-end cosmetics. I gladly paid full price for a few gifts there and also at Afoulki, an Essaouira lamp shop whose profits fund programs for poor children in the area. On the downside, I needed to get a carrying case with a zipper and couldn't find one anywhere to meet my animal-free criterion. I reluctantly bought one made of camel skin. I also stocked up on wooden games for my kids, thinking I was doing a good deed by supporting local craftspeople. Two days later, I learned from a careful Lonely Planet reader that the wood I'd bought, called thuya, is endangered. Foiled again. Lesson six: Read, then read some more, and keep your ears open for insight into what's ethical in a particular place.

Having stumbled more than once in my quest for ethical purity, I picked the brains of fellow travelers on a similar quest. Our experiences led us to the same conclusion: Ethics and luxury can go hand in hand, even in the developing world. Stuart and Marilyn Gillard of Santa Barbara had asked their travel agent for "authentic" accommodations with creature comforts and found themselves in the Riad Maison Bleue, which had become a model of preservationist restoration for 11 other houses in Fez. Lisa Mossy of Houston harbored a concern that "women here [in Morocco] are suppressed" and used concierge.com to find Al Fassia, a women-owned cooperative restaurant in Marrakech. Mike Weston of Sheffield, England, had wanted a comfortable, adventurous, affordable trip. He chose British outfitter Explore in part because it makes a point of supporting local merchants. "If it was a lousy holiday and they gave twenty dollars to the locals, I wouldn't buy it," Weston says. "But if they provide a comfortable holiday and give to the locals as well, that's all the better."