Salam!
I landed in Marrakech at 9 or 10 or 11pm....not sure!?!? It was the eve of Ramadan and all I heard was an hour change from GMT time, forward or backward???!?
I tried to get some cash but the only two ATMs at the airport weren't working. So I had to exchange some of my euros and sterling to Dirhams. Out of the airport I was hailed by a small gang of taxi drivers desperate for my money.
Hotel de la Menera met my expectations unfortunately, not the best hotel in Marrakech. I opened my liner and tried to sleep in the heat-steaming room. (only to discover that there was an air condition hidden behind the curtains the next morning!). I walked through the heavily mosaic decorated lobby, lounge and huge dining area. The place needed a good clean as much as a time machine to bring it back to the future. A middle-aged man with a bark wood face brought me breakfast of coffee, milk, diluted orange juice, a fresh croissant and baguette with accompanying preservatives. I wolfed everything down read for the day. I asked the man for the time. He didn't know any English nor French as much. He got the question after a number of repeats and delved into answering it by showing me his Nokia. It said 19.54. Ok was not sure what that was supposed to imply. Suddenly, he seemed to remember and blurted 'dix heure..' Glad I was in time for breaky and the day ahead then.
I went to the receptionist to ask for an ATM close by and the souq (market). She indicated the ATM but as for the souq it was too early especially being the first day of Ramadan. My eye caught the huge wall clock and read 8.20am. Oh! so long for more sleep. I got the money and went back to bed!
The heat of the day started accelerating. On asking for directions again I met the group leader, Abdul. He quickly highlighted the main sites on a local map and I set off. My aim was to get to the infamous souq Jamaa el Fna. The Hotel was situated just outside the old Medina walls which enclosed narrower streets, a public garden and the Koutobia mosque. Instead of heading to the left of the mosque I headed towards the direction of Mecca. Getting lost in the roads and streets turned out to be quite an adventure.
I found myself in a square surrounded by craft shops then noticed one of the tourist attractions, the Saadian tombs which date back from the time of the sultan Ahmad al-Mansur (1578-1603). The tombs were discovered in 1917. The tombs are beautifully decorated and I don't recall seeing as elaborate for the rest of the trip.
Having discovered the tombs I thought I might as well try to find the Palais de Bahia which was only a few metres away according to the map. Along the way I discovered a locals local market in one of the narrow side streets. Intrigued I got lost amongst the crowds of mainly women shopping their daily cooking needs. The alleys fragranced of mint, fresh herbs and spices. It felt great not being harassed by the vendors. The locals barely noticed me. I finally got back on the road and started to walk towards the palace with the help of some directions. I never actually got to the Palace as I had enough of walking in circles in and out of the great grounds and never-ending walls surrounding it. Lured by the buzz back at the locals market I started to make my way back.
Along the way I came across a small weaving home-based workshop. I couldn't help stopping to observe. The two men work hard and steadily at the looms. Ahmed was friendly and let me take photos as he explained the process in broken English. we communicated in bits of Arabic and somehow managed a conversation about Ramadan before he proudly showed me how thread was made with the (literally) spinning wheel to then weave beautiful satin and coloured cotton scarves amongst other things.
I was so glad with the encounter that I was prepared to tip or even buy something. I grabbed a lovely handbag and he lured me into choosing a scarf too. I couldn't resist finding it hard to decide between three. Ahmend beckoned me to follow him for a mera (mirror). Just across the tiny sun-drenched road was a coiffure. We just marched in and Ahmed asked the big hairdresser who was doing a client's blow dry whether we could use the mirror. As he put the scarves around my neck the hairdresser grumpily shook her head disapprovingly until the last one for which she nodded vigorously. Scarf chosen the price haggling was next. When in the right state of mind I could be a tough chick to deal with. In this case I felt quite lenient having made friends and they were nice to me. Moreover, Ahmed also invited me for a harira (Ramadan soup) with his family that evening. That was quite special but had to refuse as I was meeting the group for the first time that night. Pity but .. Happy with my encounter and purchase I retraced my route to the crammed market again. I was adamant on buying spices were the local women did their shopping.
I queued well technically speaking. I'd say crowded with other fully-cladded women infront of the tiny shop's counter heavily decked with steel barrels full of powdered spices. As I tried to sneak in, a man came by my side trying to chat me up. He looked middle-aged and least attractive especially with a dangling half rotten tooth on the front of an otherwise toothless mouth. He tried to tell me that it is Ramadan today and I acknowledged. He then delved into explaining what Ramadan is about '...no food, no drink and no sex!' 'Are you fasting?' I asked. 'Me no fasting!' 'Oh! I fasting!' I replied quickly in some sort of Arabic. Then he said '..you and me rancontre...' then getting my puzzled face he asked whether I had a husband. I quickly replied yes and showed him my ring (the one I always wear on my 4th finger...you know, just in case!) and further explained that he's at the hotel. He wasn't too pleased. In between all this I was trying to buy the powdered spices asking the vendor what each one was. Somehow I ended up buy 250grams worth of cummin and another of suffron and they cost me less than a GPB1! I quickly scuttered off this time determined to find the big souq.
I got there in the end. The big square wasn't as bustling and crowded as I would have expected. I bought half a litre of freshly squeezed jus d'orange from one of the desperate wagon vendors. I was so thirsty. Carrying it around to avoid drinking in public was one hell of a sacrifice. The main souq was a myriad of alleys which at that hour and heat of the day weren't so appealing. I leisurely walked along its parameters until I decided to call it a day.
On my way back I relished some shade in the mosque's garden drinking the now warm jus d'orange.
Back at the hotel I decided I'd kick off a bit of holiday feeling and enjoyed the pool.
I met the rest of the group at around 6pm and after an intro to the tour from Abdul we headed for the Djemma el Fnaa which is the big souq turned into rows of al fresco restaurants. Before choosing one though our apetites were excentuated by a lamb head stall displaying all sorts sizes including teeth, tonges and brians. Great photo opportunity if anything else! The restaurants displayed fresh food which you could pick, have cooked and enjoy with saffroned couscous, flat bread and olives.
Four of us girls decided to get a mix of everything so we tasted the Moroccan salad, the fried fish, the tender beef with veggies, the famous baked aubergines.... all so yummy. I was starving by then having only lunched on water and jus d'orange.
We finished off with was to be the first in a series of high-poured very sweet mint tea!
Later J, Michelle, Arlene and myself wondered off around the Square peering at the amateur performing groups, playing drums and traditional guitars. I was eager to see a cobra charmer or a tooth picker but there weren't any that night. We couldn't help noticing that all the performers including the heavily-clad belly dancers were men!
Infact there were hardly any women out and about except for a few who were accompanyting their husbands. We walked around peering into the small crowds to get a glimpse of the playing bands. Then a member asked us to sit on the surrounding wooden benches in full view of both the band and their audience. We felt quite aware of our presence. The band played passionately at the light of a lantern in the centre of the circle. The same guy suddenly reached for my hand and invited me to dance to his steps. I was itching to join but wasn't sure given the Ramadan and no-women situation. Whatever, I jumped into it and it was fun. Eventually, we managed to get Arlene to dance with us too and before we knew it the crowd around us doubled to say the least. We spent the next hour or so in-between enjoying the music and being asked to dance again, again and again.
Enjoy some Berber live music yourself!
It was a good night which well prepared us for our great Moroccan Express trip :)
read more in the next episode...
sahha
Nicky
X X x
I landed in Marrakech at 9 or 10 or 11pm....not sure!?!? It was the eve of Ramadan and all I heard was an hour change from GMT time, forward or backward???!?
I tried to get some cash but the only two ATMs at the airport weren't working. So I had to exchange some of my euros and sterling to Dirhams. Out of the airport I was hailed by a small gang of taxi drivers desperate for my money.
Hotel de la Menera met my expectations unfortunately, not the best hotel in Marrakech. I opened my liner and tried to sleep in the heat-steaming room. (only to discover that there was an air condition hidden behind the curtains the next morning!). I walked through the heavily mosaic decorated lobby, lounge and huge dining area. The place needed a good clean as much as a time machine to bring it back to the future. A middle-aged man with a bark wood face brought me breakfast of coffee, milk, diluted orange juice, a fresh croissant and baguette with accompanying preservatives. I wolfed everything down read for the day. I asked the man for the time. He didn't know any English nor French as much. He got the question after a number of repeats and delved into answering it by showing me his Nokia. It said 19.54. Ok was not sure what that was supposed to imply. Suddenly, he seemed to remember and blurted 'dix heure..' Glad I was in time for breaky and the day ahead then.
I went to the receptionist to ask for an ATM close by and the souq (market). She indicated the ATM but as for the souq it was too early especially being the first day of Ramadan. My eye caught the huge wall clock and read 8.20am. Oh! so long for more sleep. I got the money and went back to bed!
The heat of the day started accelerating. On asking for directions again I met the group leader, Abdul. He quickly highlighted the main sites on a local map and I set off. My aim was to get to the infamous souq Jamaa el Fna. The Hotel was situated just outside the old Medina walls which enclosed narrower streets, a public garden and the Koutobia mosque. Instead of heading to the left of the mosque I headed towards the direction of Mecca. Getting lost in the roads and streets turned out to be quite an adventure.
I found myself in a square surrounded by craft shops then noticed one of the tourist attractions, the Saadian tombs which date back from the time of the sultan Ahmad al-Mansur (1578-1603). The tombs were discovered in 1917. The tombs are beautifully decorated and I don't recall seeing as elaborate for the rest of the trip.
Having discovered the tombs I thought I might as well try to find the Palais de Bahia which was only a few metres away according to the map. Along the way I discovered a locals local market in one of the narrow side streets. Intrigued I got lost amongst the crowds of mainly women shopping their daily cooking needs. The alleys fragranced of mint, fresh herbs and spices. It felt great not being harassed by the vendors. The locals barely noticed me. I finally got back on the road and started to walk towards the palace with the help of some directions. I never actually got to the Palace as I had enough of walking in circles in and out of the great grounds and never-ending walls surrounding it. Lured by the buzz back at the locals market I started to make my way back.
Along the way I came across a small weaving home-based workshop. I couldn't help stopping to observe. The two men work hard and steadily at the looms. Ahmed was friendly and let me take photos as he explained the process in broken English. we communicated in bits of Arabic and somehow managed a conversation about Ramadan before he proudly showed me how thread was made with the (literally) spinning wheel to then weave beautiful satin and coloured cotton scarves amongst other things.
I was so glad with the encounter that I was prepared to tip or even buy something. I grabbed a lovely handbag and he lured me into choosing a scarf too. I couldn't resist finding it hard to decide between three. Ahmend beckoned me to follow him for a mera (mirror). Just across the tiny sun-drenched road was a coiffure. We just marched in and Ahmed asked the big hairdresser who was doing a client's blow dry whether we could use the mirror. As he put the scarves around my neck the hairdresser grumpily shook her head disapprovingly until the last one for which she nodded vigorously. Scarf chosen the price haggling was next. When in the right state of mind I could be a tough chick to deal with. In this case I felt quite lenient having made friends and they were nice to me. Moreover, Ahmed also invited me for a harira (Ramadan soup) with his family that evening. That was quite special but had to refuse as I was meeting the group for the first time that night. Pity but .. Happy with my encounter and purchase I retraced my route to the crammed market again. I was adamant on buying spices were the local women did their shopping.
I queued well technically speaking. I'd say crowded with other fully-cladded women infront of the tiny shop's counter heavily decked with steel barrels full of powdered spices. As I tried to sneak in, a man came by my side trying to chat me up. He looked middle-aged and least attractive especially with a dangling half rotten tooth on the front of an otherwise toothless mouth. He tried to tell me that it is Ramadan today and I acknowledged. He then delved into explaining what Ramadan is about '...no food, no drink and no sex!' 'Are you fasting?' I asked. 'Me no fasting!' 'Oh! I fasting!' I replied quickly in some sort of Arabic. Then he said '..you and me rancontre...' then getting my puzzled face he asked whether I had a husband. I quickly replied yes and showed him my ring (the one I always wear on my 4th finger...you know, just in case!) and further explained that he's at the hotel. He wasn't too pleased. In between all this I was trying to buy the powdered spices asking the vendor what each one was. Somehow I ended up buy 250grams worth of cummin and another of suffron and they cost me less than a GPB1! I quickly scuttered off this time determined to find the big souq.
I got there in the end. The big square wasn't as bustling and crowded as I would have expected. I bought half a litre of freshly squeezed jus d'orange from one of the desperate wagon vendors. I was so thirsty. Carrying it around to avoid drinking in public was one hell of a sacrifice. The main souq was a myriad of alleys which at that hour and heat of the day weren't so appealing. I leisurely walked along its parameters until I decided to call it a day.
On my way back I relished some shade in the mosque's garden drinking the now warm jus d'orange.
Back at the hotel I decided I'd kick off a bit of holiday feeling and enjoyed the pool.
I met the rest of the group at around 6pm and after an intro to the tour from Abdul we headed for the Djemma el Fnaa which is the big souq turned into rows of al fresco restaurants. Before choosing one though our apetites were excentuated by a lamb head stall displaying all sorts sizes including teeth, tonges and brians. Great photo opportunity if anything else! The restaurants displayed fresh food which you could pick, have cooked and enjoy with saffroned couscous, flat bread and olives.
Four of us girls decided to get a mix of everything so we tasted the Moroccan salad, the fried fish, the tender beef with veggies, the famous baked aubergines.... all so yummy. I was starving by then having only lunched on water and jus d'orange.
We finished off with was to be the first in a series of high-poured very sweet mint tea!
Later J, Michelle, Arlene and myself wondered off around the Square peering at the amateur performing groups, playing drums and traditional guitars. I was eager to see a cobra charmer or a tooth picker but there weren't any that night. We couldn't help noticing that all the performers including the heavily-clad belly dancers were men!
Infact there were hardly any women out and about except for a few who were accompanyting their husbands. We walked around peering into the small crowds to get a glimpse of the playing bands. Then a member asked us to sit on the surrounding wooden benches in full view of both the band and their audience. We felt quite aware of our presence. The band played passionately at the light of a lantern in the centre of the circle. The same guy suddenly reached for my hand and invited me to dance to his steps. I was itching to join but wasn't sure given the Ramadan and no-women situation. Whatever, I jumped into it and it was fun. Eventually, we managed to get Arlene to dance with us too and before we knew it the crowd around us doubled to say the least. We spent the next hour or so in-between enjoying the music and being asked to dance again, again and again.
Enjoy some Berber live music yourself!
It was a good night which well prepared us for our great Moroccan Express trip :)
read more in the next episode...
sahha
Nicky
X X x
1 comment:
oh gosh :)crossing the street to the coiffeur to find a mirror is simply hilarious :) .....and glad you did not succumb to the toothless guy. you deserve so much better :) xxx
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