Marrakesh

We arrived in Marrakesh at sunset, and began our search for a hotel with internet as we had been out of touch for some time. The streets were thronged with people enjoying the last weekend of the two week Moroccan holiday period. We persevered and were rewarded with the wonderful Hotel Afriquia with its colourful tile work, courtyard with orange trees and a nice room with WiFi connection. That night we went out for dinner in the famous Djema-el-Fna square, where every evening hundreds of stalls set up to cook delicious and fresh typical cuisine. As we walked by, the waiters tried to entice us to dine with them and both locals and tourists sidled up to the long picnic-style tables to enjoy the atmosphere and meals.

It is a colourful experience, full of smells and sights and sounds, as the rest of the square is taken up by many groups of performing artists with their story-telling, comedy or musical instruments. We walked around after dinner and sat in on a Berber music group, and it was easy to see why Marrakesh’s original public square has been deemed a World Heritage site. The richness of culture that is passed on from the performers to the audience every night is astounding.

However, one “richness” was passed on us against our wishes. We could not resist getting close to the snake charmers and their reptilian companions for a photo. As we posed for a picture, one of the handlers moved to quickly remove a snake from around Ben’s neck! A thought flashed through our minds: Was a near deadly strike narrowly avoided? Apparently not. The reptile proved to be deadly only from the other end as before the snake charmer made his quick move, the snake had let loose a bowel movement that could only have been developed after food poisoning in Bolivia! We retreated to our hotel to do some laundry and regroup.


The next morning we went around the corner to a local café and had our favourite Moroccan breakfast: crepe with cheese and honey and coffee with milk. This was followed by our daily dose of fresh orange juice from the plaza stalls.

We took a stroll through the Bahia Palace, once home to a very important Vizier (advisor to the Sultan) and built by the best artisans of the time. The home was enormous and artwork was exquisite.

We spent the rest of the day wandering around the old medina with its narrow winding streets filled with colourful stalls selling everything from leather goods to natural beauty products to brightly embroidered clothing and silver jewellery. Patricia bought some cosmetic Argan oil, which is reputed to have remarkable properties for both skin and hair health, while the cooking version of the oil has an aromatic nutty scent. The traditional process for creating Argan oil requires goats to process the fruit exterior in their digestive system with the farmers rescuing the nut from amongst other goat undesirables. We assume the farmers then clean the nuts well before toasting them and pressing them into the delicious oil. Yum…

For lunch we found the best sandwich stall of our trip so far, with fresh grilled beef and all the trimmings.

That evening we met up with Hicham, who was staying with his friend Hassan, and together we enjoyed a coffee on a patio in the afternoon sunshine. Then we took a taxi out into the Ville Nouvelle to watch the Barcelona vs. Real Madrid game (El Classico).

After only one day in Marakesh, we found that we were growing tired of the constant big city hustle with almost every interaction with local people involving a scheme to relieve us of as much money as possible – offensive prices and sometimes even language. This was certainly the worst we had experienced of the Moroccan culture and we had to remind ourselves that we had many amazing earlier experiences and there were many more to come. To preserve our sanity and our experience, we decided to treat ourselves to a luxury spa hammam experience high above the fray.

In Chefchaouen, Patricia had gone with our Spanish friend, Christina, to experience a hammam as the locals do it. A hammam is a place where both men and women go, although at separate times or in separate places, to scrub themselves clean and gossip about once a week. The typical experience consists of a building with an anteroom for changing and three connecting rooms: the first slightly warm, the next warmer, and the last steaming hot. Hot water is provided by the bucketful, and the ladies sit on their stools and apply black mud soap. They then use their loofahs and help each other to vigorously scrub away all the dead skin, a process which can take more than half an hour. After the scrub they rinse off and apply a layer of “gommage” – a dark mud mask to the body. This is followed by shampooing and brushing of the hair all while chatting away the time. It was a wonderful, new experience. In Marrakesh we found a luxury spa hammam run by a friendly Frenchman. Patricia went for the typical treatments and then was joined by Ben for a one hour massage on the rooftop terrace. Ahhhhh… we left feeling relaxed and ready to take on our last night in the city.

The Koutoubia is the minaret of the main mosque just outside of the medina, and we spent some time sight seeing before buying some supplies for a joint dinner with Hicham and friends that night, sharing a home cooked delicious chicken tagine in the wee hours.

It was with sadness that we bid farewell to our Moroccan friend Hicham; Inshalla we will meet again! The next morning we boarded our bus to Tafraoute, heading towards the south of Morocco for more mountains and friendly experiences...