Morocco: Marrakesh

Remi in black; Sarah in purple

We're not going to do this thing chronologically, it's just too complicated.  We took the train from Fes to Marrakesh.  I forget how long the trip was (8 hours)... too long (much too long), if I remember correctly.  First class carriages though, so it wasn't too bad.

Arab coke on the train.

We arrived in Marrakesh at night, hopped a cab to the Place Jemaa el Fna in the old city.  According to UNESCO, the Place is a "masterpiece of the oral and intangible heritage of humanity".  It speaks volumes that there is nothing of the sort in Canada, food inspectors would have a heart attack if they saw this place.  They're being over-cautious if you want my opinion, a mild gastro is a small price to pay to have something this vibrant in the heart of town.  This place is a zoo all the time, but at night it gets really crazy.  Snakes, donkeys, cars, diesel, motorbikes, cross-dressers, henna artists, sales people, food stalls, restaurants and just about everything else you could imagine.

Here's something you might not know: dates don't have to be those dessicated things you buy at the grocery store.  We didn't come home with any, but we tasted a few.  We actually just missed many a date festival in Morocco.  They love their dates!

The shops go all day.  These lights were for sale everywhere.  The shops came into their own at night though.  We only resisted buying some because we figured they'd never survive the trip back home.

Sarah didn't figure it was worthwhile to negotiate a price for the henna.  Not to worry though, one quick call to the bank and we added a second mortgage to the house.  First of all, this woman assaulted me.  It may look like I'm smiling, as though I am enjoying this little escapade, but in fact I am grimacing in pain (not really) and horror (also not really, but if I make it dramatic, it may make up for the price paid...  which really wasn't that expensive...).

Marrakesh is nice.  So nice, in fact that, it's over-run with tourists.  A bus would arrive and disgorge it's passengers into the site.  You could hear the self-importance and camera shutters coming from miles away.  It got to the point where they were stepping into so many of my pictures that I retaliated by taking pictures of them.  Some of them actually turned out.  I took this picture in the Medersa Ben Youssef.  The little boy somehow escaped the throngs from the bus.  This place was built in the 16th century.

We went to a museum that had loads of old photographs.  This medersa looked almost the same a hundred years ago.

Remi and I spent a couple of hours here, just hanging out, writing in the journal and taking in the serenity between buses.  Like ants at a picnic, those tourists!

I saw a guy in a stall carving details like this in plaster.  It was all chisel work.

I found an attractive (pfft) French tourist to take this picture.  I snuck a picture of her for my "tourist collection", but it was blurry.

The nice thing about traveling alone is that you can enjoy a place for several hours without being bothered by such things as schedules.  We sat here when the tourists invaded, then walked around between buses.  You appreciate a place more when you have the time to enjoy it.
Funny story about tourist buses: they actually had to wear these numbers pinned to their clothing so they wouldn't lose their shepherd.  I'm actually not quite sure how they DON'T lose track of people.  The medina is HUGE and winding.  They just drop a bus load of sheep off and hope for the best, I guess!

A calligrapher in the medersa.  He was selling these to tourists, so I managed a shot without getting roped into buying one (seriously, what are you going to do with that?).
Calligraphy is pretty important to Moroccans - I thought of buying a few pages of the Qu'ran.  They were pretty, but close inspection showed they were artificially aged.  The guy selling them told me they bring good luck... but that it's frowned upon to hang them in the bathroom.

The souqs (markets) in Marrakesh are awesome.  Hundreds of stalls, selling all kinds of stuff.  Some of the stores are tiny, others are large converted riads.  The downside is that you sometimes get stuck listening to a guy's sales pitch over (yet another) cup of mint tea.
We haven't written about mint tea yet.  It's a Moroccan specialty.  They steep fresh mint leaves in sugar and water... It's actually more like a thick syrup.  It gets served anytime someone is being a good host or wants you to buy something.  It's up to you to decide which.  I loved it!  I found out why on our driving tour (blog to come!) when we were shown just how much sugar ends up in the pot...  It was like salt-lick sized!!!  Mmm... diabetes...

It's not only for tourists.  You can pass barber shops, wood shops, bike repair shops, butcher shops (ever seen a butcher hack a goat's head with a machete?  I have), light shops, tourist shops, bakeries etc.

Kitties everywhere.  There were some dogs around, but never in crowded areas.  I think the cats were pets.  This was the cutest one.

 This was some snobby overprice hotel.  It looked nice though.  Remi's standards are too low.

 One of the alleyways near Olivier's place.  We have a picture of this alleyway with a motorbike.  I liked that picture better.  But at least Remi finally got off his butt and helped me with a blog.

Ah yes... cats.  They do get fed.  This one is enjoying some Fancy Feast®. 

 More souqs.

 Vegetables were not only cheap, but frequently very good.

Street art was relatively common.  We came across it from time to time.

Sarah wanted this photo.  It might speak to the French influence that there is a pharmacy on every street corner.  If you ask a Moroccan though, they'll tell you about some spice mixture that will cure all that ails you.  I suspect that's part tradition, part optimism.  Drugs aren't cheap anywhere.

Switching hotels.  Walking with one of these bags on is like bleeding in shark infested waters.  You need a riad? what do you want to buy?  the Jemaa el Fna is that way!  that way! Just come see my shop!

I can't remember anymore - I think this is the Palais Bahia.  It was nice, but parts were closed for repairs, so it wasn't as great as it could be.  Very nice painted and carved ceilings though.

This is another place we chose to spend some time.  Tourists again swarmed the site, little numbers attached to their lapels, following their guide like little goslings.

Same place.  Waiting for tourists to get out of my shot.  If you have time, it's nice to wait, you notice things you might not have seen.  See below for the photo he waited all day for!

El Badi palace.  It was mostly in ruins, which is sad, but it does allow you to see how the place was built.  They also had a 100 year old "minbar" - not to be confused with minibar (I was briefly disappointed) - a kind of pulpit.  Again, parts of it were wrecked, but that allowed me to see how it was built.  You might not care, but it looked like the mortises and tenons were machined.  Very impressive.  It was at this site that I was burped at for offending a faux guide (false guide).  Yes, burped at.  We had refused his "services" as we entered the site (at which point he told us not to follow and listen in if he was able to rook any tourists into paying him for his "knowledge"), and then I advised another bunch of tourists that they didn't need a guide for the site (which was true) at which point the guy walked up behind me and belched.  Several times.  I've never been burped at before...

Sitting in the riad with Olivier.  This is the face Sarah made when we spoke French.  For the record, my French improved.

 In the courtyard of the riad.

Note the henna.  Still playing with various photo effects.  This one is a little boring, in my opinion.  Henna that was supposed to last for 3 weeks!!  Three days later... just a shadow.

A museum in Marrakesh (Dar Si Said).  The museums usually had nice stuff to look at, and were built in converted riads, so they were pretty too.

Attack of the tourists!  This bus load was notably annoying.

Sarah buying shoes.  I noticed the sales people were happy if I took a step back.  I think it's because the average guy would say: "You don't need that!  it's too expensive!  he's ripping us off!" (all of which is true).  I wish I'd bought flats in Fez.  Note to other tourists, if you like leather, buy it in Fez.  I have a pair of slippers from Fez, way better quality, way more comfortable than the flats I bought in Marrakech.
I've been playing with different effects in Photoshop.  I like the vintage look, even if it is a bit cliché now.

Yves St. Laurent had a house in Marrakesh.  The gardens are now open for tourists.  It was over-run with a particularly pernicious group of tourists: the fashionably-conscious-tourist.  In some cases it was the fashionably-conscious-twenty-years-ago-but-thinks-style-doesn't-change-tourist.  Still, it was fun to walk around, and the house was near the ville nouvelle, where we could see some other more high-end galleries.

I think he was on to something painting the pots.  We're planning on doing that in the spring.

 I liked the lines.

And that's that.  Until we add photos and stories from our desert adventures.  If you haven't looked at the blog in a while, scroll down, there's more.

Love S & R