I was recently treated to a little mid-week trip away by my Papa, to Marrakech! Lucky, lucky moi! All the way in North Africa, so I have now, officially ventured out of Europe! I kept a little travel log while I was out there, in order to aid blogging, so let the write-up commence!
Once arriving in Marrakech, after successfully going through customs, collecting our bags and changing our money, we embarked (well, my Dad embarked) upon the first bout of bartering that trip, in relation to a taxi to our riad (hotel). In danger of sounding terribly British, the roads were fucking LETHAL. and, the national colour for taxis appears to be beige.
The streets in the centre of Marrakech are very windy and narrow, meaning our taxi couldn't take us right to the door of our riad, resulting in some young Marrakechian man carrying our bag and guiding us there, then demanding a fiver off us for the trouble (bare in mind we walked around 100 metres maximum). When we began the second bout of bartering, two of his mates turned up to support him, needless to say we gave him the money and ensured we did not get mugged off again!
Once sorted in the hotel, we ventured into the hubbub that is Marrakech, quickly coming to the conclusion, that if we were not run over at some point during the trip, it would be a miracle. Now one thing i hate, is feeling like a tourist, and we were DEFINITELY that, and we DEFINITELY stuck out like massive sore thumbs! My surely unhealthy pale complexion and scarlet barnet not helping the situation, even warranting people to call me Lady GaGa, which I loved of course...
We found our way to the Jemaa el Fna (the square) and I was walking around, literally clutching my bag for dear life, trying not to look at anyone in the eye, because if you do, they want some moolah off you. If you take a photo, dear God, you have to pay them, later in the trip i went to the toilet, some woman in there wanted money from me, she literally did nothing, she just stood there. Unfortunately I had no change on me so had to scarper, with her shouting after me. This was our downfall of the trip, our lack of loose change.
The square was a site to behold in the day, with snake charmers, men with monkeys on leads :( ladies doing henna, fruit stalls and entertainers, and we soon got accustomed to how we should behave over there. After declining so many offers of various things, one man did take me by surprise however, sticking his hat on me and giving me his bell things to hold, as shown in the photo, I wasn't exactly happy! Especially because some woman was fast approaching, shouting 'Henna!? Henna?!'
Marrakech really is a treat for the senses, there is so much to look at, I felt how Karl Pilkington did in India, my neck hurt from looking at everything! It is so busy, and such a different culture to what I am used to, you have to have your wits about you, but it is fantastic.
Thought we'd try some local grub for din dins, a vegetable tagine, not gonna lie, was pretty bland, perhaps would've been more flavoursome with some meat in there, but neither of us eat it. Breakfast the next morning however, was a treat! We had crepes, fruit salad, freshly squeezed orange juice, with bits! hurrah! And a yoghurt which neither of us touched all trip. Didn't want to fill up on that business when there's crepes around! Asked for tea, forgot I wasn't in England, assumed it'd be a cup of Rosie, it was mint. Smelt good, tasted shite, like mulled wine.
It rained here and there throughout the day, boo! But it was still warm, you forget it's December when you're there, obviously no signs of Christmas and no chilly weather! Was rather windy too, which helped the no hairdrier situation, made me look a little mad professor though...
We went to the Jardin Majorelle, these tranquil gardens inside of busy, mad Marrakech. We even managed to take in a little fashion exhibition of Yves Saint Laurent's work, seeing as he and his mate bought the gardens and Marrakech was his inspiration for a couple of his collections. He said Marrakech taught him colour, I thoroughly understand where he is coming from, this is the most colourful place I have ever been.
After the Jardin, we ventured forth into the myriad of sensual delights that are the souks. Wow. Marrakech holds some talented craftsmen! Walking through the tiny lanes, littered with tiny shops overflowing with leather bags, slippers, spices, pottery, jewellery, so many sights and smells hit you, and of course the shop owners are tremendously pushy, but that goes without saying! Today we were just browsing, which is hard to explain! We're going back tomorrow to actually purchase...yay!
We managed to find a bar! Luckily Dad had done his research before we came, and sussed out this place called Kosybar...that's right with a 'K' so it must be funky. They're not big on their drink over there, despite having mint tea with this Moroccan whisky...so many of the restaurants don't sell beer, and they're not the sort of places you can really just chill at. But Kosybar, oh! Extremely apt name, it is the cosiest bar I've ever been in. Cushions and soft furnishings EVERYWHERE! We sat up on the roof terrace most of the night, me on the pineapple juice, dad on the Corona. Then we nipped downstairs for 'one for the road' and there was this duo playing keyboards and singing. The vocalist was effortlessly cool, a black man with loafers and sunglasses on, despite it being bloody dark in there. God knows how he managed to navigate his way round the room.
After another wonderful petit dejeuner we made our way to the Musee de Maroc (once losing our way a couple of times, and promising to buy a door knocker in the form of the hand of Fatima and a rather sweet teapot from this "I'm not pushy, I'm not pushy, but come into my shop, just for a look around" whilst not letting us leave, man with dentures that kept falling out) it literally had naff all in it. A few daggers, a couple of plates and a robe. The vast majority of the rooms were actually empty, so we took some photos of the tiles on the floor and walls. And that museum has been described as the best one in Marrakech, so it troubles me to think what's in the others!
We went back to the denture man and bought the door knocker and the teapot, he wanted something like £95 for them, we got him down to £20. They really do take the piss!
We also went to this ruin, can't quite remember what it was called, it was rather small, and we didn't really know the back story, and this school, Ecole Ben Youssef or something. Was alright, didn't really know what it was about either, but it's good to absorb the Moroccan culture. Ha.
After rummaging through the souks again (and buying a beautiful brown leather bag, a piece of amber to make me/my knicker drawer smell delicious and lusting after a chameleon...£15 and that's without bartering! Oh yeah, Dad got a BEAUTY of a leather jacket too, a tan coloured bomber, which the man fitted new cuffs onto and a new zip, so we sat chatting to him for most of the day)...we got lost! and I think we managed to find the only Marrakechians who don't know their way around Marrakech. They had to ask for directions! We walked for what seemed like FOREVER, then finally rounded a corner that we recognised. We then had the typical awkward negotiation of how much money they deserved, they wanted more, we said no, rah, rah, rah. We won. Phew!
(Dad modelling his new jacket)We ate in the square again, then were off to our favourite haunt...Kosybar! Someone was having a birthday meal up on the terrace, all the staff, including the chefs sang 'Happy Birthday' to them, in three different languages, with sparklers. We then decended into the depths of cosiness for another jazz performance by Mr Cool and Youssef the keyboard player, which was rather enjoyable. It seems mr cool has three trademarks. He sings a lot of words like, "n,n,n,n,n,no" and "d,d,d,d,d,don't" et cetera, he says "girl" after everything and says stuff in a really, really deep voice, like the guy who does the movie trailers. He also has perfected this double spin.
Saw a fight on our way home, was kinda scary, these two men were using planks of wood to hit each other, some man with a donkey and cart got involved, and a load of other young boys and men. But once we'd watched for a bit we managed to sneak past unscathed!
So, onto our last day, ahhhhh..... had strawberry yoghurt at breakfast instead of the natural one, still didn't eat it though, managed to pluck up the courage to ask the lovely maid lady for a chocolat chaud instead of the minty tea, it does smell good, and come in a lovely little teapot, with even lovelier handle cover made from fabric and looking like a little man, but it is literally hot water with a load of mint leaves shmushed into it.
Delved one last time into the magic of the souks, super, super shopping day! Lots of bargains to be had, picked up my new best friend, a lovely leather rucksack, a little pottery ashtray (tacky i know, but practical!) And a Secret Squirrel present for my sister for Christmas. Dad got some bargains too, scarves and slippers and wooden boxes, I wish you could barter in Topshop, I've gotten reasonably good now. Also indulged in some henna, I took my time picking out a design I liked from the lady's book, she drew it on my hand so fast, and it looked absolutely nothing like the picture I'd chosen! For some reason the dye was bright orange, looked like a small child had been let loose with a hi-lighter.
We lay in the sun for a few more hours, then made our way to the airport enduring our last deathly Moroccan taxi ride. We were delayed 45 minutes, which turned into more like an hour and a half, and once landed in England we couldn't get off the plane for half hour because the bloody tunnel thing they use to get us off broke down. The pilot kept being all jokey on the microphone, literally wanted to slap him.
I can whole-heartedly say that I enjoyed Morocco, it was everything I had hoped and imagined it would be like, a little scarier than I expected, but I soon got used to the way of life over there, you have to accept that these are very poor people, and to them, we are massive walking, talking money signs. There are so many beautiful things I want to buy in Marrakech! I'm very pleased I've gone, now I have been though, I can't imagine hurrying back there, but I adore everything I brought back!
Until anon x
