We lugged our luggage to the bus station, accompanied by a puppy we nearly smuggled (ok not really) onto the bus with us. Our hotel search in Marrakech took awhile, but we eventually got some rooms on a street a stone’s throw away from the Jemaa Lfna.
We spent the rest of the daylight walking around the city, getting postcards, and going to the Bahia Palace. The Bahia Palace was built in the 18th century by one of the sultan’s viziers and then used as the residence of the French resident general. The only thing left of the palace is the building and the interior decoration, like the magnificent painted and carved cedar and plaster ceilings.
After dark the Jemaa Lfna really comes alive, and becomes way less touristy. Food stalls and tents spontaneously appear, serving food of questionable quality to tourists and locals alike. The smoke and lights made the square look like it was filled with white fireworks. We saw some performers, but not many. There were some fortune tellers, dancers, and also games where you could win a bottle of soda(?). We hung around for about 20 minutes until I noticed we were being followed by a super sketchy guy, at which point we hauled ass over to the Koutoubia mosque square to meet other friends.
G doesn’t go clubbing. The other three ladies I was staying with went out that night while I went to bed early. I didn’t have anything to wear anyway.
We caught the train the next day at 1pm, and arrived back in Rabat at 6pm. Although it was great fun to travel around the country for a week, I was glad to get back to Rabat. 57 Rue des Consuls does feel like home to me now. I had an awkward Alone Tagine for dinner and went to bed early.
The Alone Tagine is so called because I eat alone, from my own mini-tagine. Since my family eats dinner really late, I’ve been getting my meals earlier in the evening; for instance I had dinner when the rest of the family was having tea. I do appreciate Hajja making me dinner early, and even though it is a bit awkward, it’s my one American Thing I wouldn’t change. I just can’t handle eating so late at night and then going to bed immediately afterwards. I also get the hubs basket to myself, which may or may not be a good thing…
Showing posts with label Marrakech. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marrakech. Show all posts
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
southern excursion day 4
Spirits were low this morning because of the grey, rainy weather, not to mention the fact that 35 women had to use four turkish toilets. I know you’re probably tired of hearing about turkish toilets and showers, but really, that’s all we talk about. It’s important. Toilets are anyway, I couldn’t really care less about the showers, but some girls need to plan their week around when they can shower.
Moving on, the incessant rain for the past few weeks has taken its toll on the countryside: widespread flooding. The road from Ourzzazate was flooded in several places, forcing us to stop each time. The bus driver just drove through some raging torrents as if they were puddles. We were stopped for a good half hour at one stream. Nobody was crossing it, including us. Buses and cars were stopped and the drivers were having a little powwow at the edge of the rapids. An impatient CTM bus (one of the national bus lines) tried to cross the ocean and got stuck on a gravel bar. Eventually a heavy-machinery-giant-shovel-thing was sent in to clear the gravel and thus allow the water to flow down the valley and us to drive through it.
It wasn’t a bad stop really, we got cookies (biscuits!) and I discovered that my camera didn’t work. I guess I got some sand in the lens, and it got jammed open. Thankfully my friend Jesse has let me steal some of her pictures. Thanks Jesse! I did miss taking pictures of the High Atlas, Marrakech, Essaouira, and the rest of our trip, which was frankly, a total bummer.
Once we got the Marrakech and dropped our stuff at the hotel, we set out to explore the city for a few hours. Our first stop was Djmaa Lfna, the main square of the city, and some say the entire country. Our guide books were very eloquent about it, but during the day it’s a giant tourist trap, with henna ladies, monkey handlers, and others of the sort.
The souqs of Marrakech were very clean, but had the same stuff I’m used to seeing in many of the cities we visit, except for the surfeit of tourists. I did purchase a hat from a sweet-looking Amazigh lady. To be honest, I only stopped because she looked so nice. She didn’t speak Arabic, so the shopkeeper next door did all the bargaining. So I got a Purple Berber Beanie for 40dh, which I could have bargained down more (it started at 60dh), but I thought $5 was ok. The hat came in handy shortly because it started to rain. I was quite the sight, with my purple beanie under my pink scarf, but I look strange enough to Moroccans anyway so it wasn’t much of a change.
As the rain started to come down, I felt at one with the Marrakshis, dashing for doorways, not quite avoiding puddles, holding things over our heads, and in general getting soaked despite our best efforts. Moroccan puddles are nasty, in the cities anyway. You don’t really know how deep they are or what may be floating in them. I had Marrakech grit and nastyness all the way up to my knees.
Moving on, the incessant rain for the past few weeks has taken its toll on the countryside: widespread flooding. The road from Ourzzazate was flooded in several places, forcing us to stop each time. The bus driver just drove through some raging torrents as if they were puddles. We were stopped for a good half hour at one stream. Nobody was crossing it, including us. Buses and cars were stopped and the drivers were having a little powwow at the edge of the rapids. An impatient CTM bus (one of the national bus lines) tried to cross the ocean and got stuck on a gravel bar. Eventually a heavy-machinery-giant-shovel-thing was sent in to clear the gravel and thus allow the water to flow down the valley and us to drive through it.
It wasn’t a bad stop really, we got cookies (biscuits!) and I discovered that my camera didn’t work. I guess I got some sand in the lens, and it got jammed open. Thankfully my friend Jesse has let me steal some of her pictures. Thanks Jesse! I did miss taking pictures of the High Atlas, Marrakech, Essaouira, and the rest of our trip, which was frankly, a total bummer.
Once we got the Marrakech and dropped our stuff at the hotel, we set out to explore the city for a few hours. Our first stop was Djmaa Lfna, the main square of the city, and some say the entire country. Our guide books were very eloquent about it, but during the day it’s a giant tourist trap, with henna ladies, monkey handlers, and others of the sort.
The souqs of Marrakech were very clean, but had the same stuff I’m used to seeing in many of the cities we visit, except for the surfeit of tourists. I did purchase a hat from a sweet-looking Amazigh lady. To be honest, I only stopped because she looked so nice. She didn’t speak Arabic, so the shopkeeper next door did all the bargaining. So I got a Purple Berber Beanie for 40dh, which I could have bargained down more (it started at 60dh), but I thought $5 was ok. The hat came in handy shortly because it started to rain. I was quite the sight, with my purple beanie under my pink scarf, but I look strange enough to Moroccans anyway so it wasn’t much of a change.
As the rain started to come down, I felt at one with the Marrakshis, dashing for doorways, not quite avoiding puddles, holding things over our heads, and in general getting soaked despite our best efforts. Moroccan puddles are nasty, in the cities anyway. You don’t really know how deep they are or what may be floating in them. I had Marrakech grit and nastyness all the way up to my knees.
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