They’re Taking Me to Marrakech

Just saying the city’s name instantly launches that song in your head, and it keeps going on and on, like a loop recording.  You know the one; I hope you enjoy hearing it for the next few days.

The city is magic, eclectic, steeped in pure spicy Moroccan culture, and it is like two worlds combined. Newer Marrakech is modern, clean, and fast-paced like many cities in the world, but take a few steps through one of the arched entries to the Medina and it’s like going back in time.  There it is hot and dusty, crowded, colorful, and loud.  People are everywhere; walking around them is like drawing a jigsaw puzzle.  Men and women mill around or rush about in the plazas where people cook on charcoal fires on well-used grill carts; some are eating, and some are shopping.  You may even see snake charmers holding a handful of snakes while another man is playing the eerie-sounding pungi.  In the souk maze, locals and tourists alike dodge motorcycles, pushcarts, donkey-drawn carts, and crowded people through the winding, narrow network of alleys of the souk.  You can buy anything there, and you can also easily get lost. 

Marrakech is a city on steroids.  Experiencing it is stressful, but there is something very enticing about it . . .  it’s devilishly attractive with a sense of intrigue.  After two nights there filled with unusual sights and sounds, we were relieved to board the train returning to our suburban apartment outside Casablanca. I hope to have forgivenes, I did not take photos of the maddness in the plazas and the souk. I was concentrating on staying with Stan who was steadily marching on, elbows out.

While in Marrakech, we took a day trip to the Atlas Mountains, giving us a sense of Moroccan life outside the major cities.  Our van included a lovely young couple, Naomi and Mike from Bristol, England, another couple from outside London, several French-speaking people we didn’t get to know well, and a young Leed, England-based Philippine nurse, Beth, travelling solo.  It was a great group.  One of the French couples carried a baby about 9 months old.  Other than jabbering sweetly, he never made a peep in our entire 8-hour day, but after being fed by his little mama, he smiled behind his pacifier and flashed his big brown eyes when we played peek-a-boo. 

As we drove up the winding road in the mountains, leaving the desert behind, we passed Berber villages nestled on hillsides. Indigenous Moroccan people there still live a lifestyle very much like their ancestors did for centuries, except now many have the necessary conveniences like electricity, plumbing, and televisions.  People of the area do their shopping only once a week in a central village, where on Saturdays, the town is transformed into a bustling market selling exotic meats, spices, fruit and vegetables, and goods for all purposes.  Our tour happened to be on a Saturday, so we were able to visit.  Like a string of preschoolers on an outing, our group stayed close together and walked quickly through the wildly busy market.  

What a different way of life!

Later, we had tea and biscuits at the house of a cousin of our guide, Youssef.  Rooms of this very pleasant house opened to one another through decoratively styled arches. The floors were beautifully tiled and covered in lovely hand-woven Berber rugs. 

Yes, I know.  Stan and I made a pact; we ordinarily do not ride animals for fun.  Somehow it seems a bit exploitative.  But we had a camel ride on this trip.  These camels were clean – not stinky at all and appeared to be well-cared for.   Even their fur and eyelashes were soft and pretty.  Berber men prepared us for our ride by wrapping our heads in brightly colored turbans.  We mounted our camels and off we went.  It was nice, much better than riding a mule or an elephant.  Three cute baby camels followed along the trail to stay near their moms. 

Our trip ended at an altitude of about 5,000 feet; local villages are snow-covered there from December through March each year.  High on the horizon, we could see the snowcapped Moroccan mountain, Toubkal.  At a height of 13,671 feet, it is the tallest mountain in North Africa. 

Near the end of our upward journey, we hiked through the cool forest, passing streams and waterfalls.  It boggles the mind to take in cool, fresh air while just two hours downhill is the hot, scorching desert.   

Many people earn their living in this part of Morocco by growing apples, walnuts, cherries, and berries. The apple orchards we passed on our hike were bursting with big red apples, soon to be ready for harvest. 

At the end of our hike, we were rewarded with a late but supremely delicious Tagine lunch of chichen with beautifully cooked spiced vegetables and mint tea. Stan and I took our cookie dessert home for a late-night snack.  While the younger ones in our group looked forward to their evening plans, Stan and I lounged in our beautifully air-conditioned Marrakech riad hotel. We ate our cookies with a glass of wine and conked out! 

In case I forget, Moroccan food is delectable, and except for the amazing and plentiful breads, it is very healthy and so delicious!  It’s like Mexican, I could eat Moroccan food every day.