Marrakech

(Famous Central Plaza named Jemaa el-Fnaa, almost empty because it is Ramadan)

“What is this?” Sandee shows me a Dutch Groupon ad touting 5 days in Marrakech for 499 Euro, flight, hotel and breakfast for 2 included.

          (alley leading to our Riad Amira)

(Roads have beautiful doors)

One of the nice things about living in Amsterdam is the nearness of lots of destinations at very reasonable rates. But in the scheme of things this offer was really cheap.

(our room with a view at the shower)

(Our bed  in the really narrow room)

So off we went very early on a Tuesday from Schiphol with thousands of other vacationers in a departure hall specifically earmarked for destination airlines with names nobody ever heard of to more than 50 different destinations in Europe and Northern Africa, snaking our way to check-in and then to security.

(Every Riad has an inner courtyard with pool and functioned as breakfast room)

(The rooftop functions as lounge in the evening)

On flights like this one, where a return ticket is less than a 100 Euro, one has to pay for seats, checked luggage, food and drinks, but in less than 3 to 4 hours we arrived, compliments of the tour organization, as touted in the Groupon ad, at the door of our Riyadh, a typical Moroccan B&B within the walled city, also named Medina, with, in this case, 7 rooms that all look out at an inner courtyard with the typical wading pool and a rooftop yard from where one can spot the other rooftops.

(Ramadan shows empty streets. The days after Ramadan this street was chaotic)

                                             (Typical Marrakech street scene)

(Everything in this walled town is ochre coloured)

Marrakech, also known as the Ochre City, lies in the center of the country on a high arid plateau, dominated to the south by the High Atlas Mountains. This is Berber country, which population are the original tribal habitants of this country north of the Sahara. Berbers were the nomads in the stories of camel caravans and oasis living. The name Berber was given to them by the invading Arab tribes who brought Islam to these parts. They call themselves Amazighs or “free people”. They had no cities in those pre- Islamic days since they were living as nomadic tribes.

(Berber hospitality in the Atlas Mountains)

(Chicken potato olives and lemon dish in a Berber mountain village)

(Sandee on her way to a mountain top village)

(A lot of people go to that village)

(After the mule trip it is still quite a climb on foot)

So after thousand of years of Berber tents, Marrakech was built as a Berber capital around the year 1000 by the “Islam spreading tribes” from the east, who subjugated the “free people” and built fortresses in order to control their newly gained domain, creating an empire that spread from Mauritania on the southern side of the Sahara to the southern cities of Spain and Portugal.

(The souk in Marrakech is full of these narrow alleys terrorized by scooters)

(A restaurant courtyard)

(An empty alley in the Medina because of Ramadan)

Exploring this red clay walled city full of red clay housing was our first mission. Beau a son of our friend Jane, who lives in Marrakech, had provided us with very useful info on where to go, what to see and what to do. So lunch within striking distance of our Riyadh was easy to find and our  first Moroccan couscous meal was devoured. 

(Beautiful dish at expensive restaurant in Marrakech: La Mamounia)

(la Fassia restaurant)

(La Fassia gardens where we heard the cannon booms ending Ramadan)

Moroccan dishes are world famous for their robust flavors, as they are spiced with the spoils of a long Berber trading history, trudging their camels through the desert sand bringing to their homeland “foreign” flavors such as cumin, saffron, turmeric, ginger, paprika, cardamom, peppers and cinnamon.

(Fatima our cooking school instructor)

(Food stalls in the Marrakech souks, which we visited with Fatima)

(Spices and Herbs stalls: note viagra for women, herbs to smile, rouge for berbers only?)

(Our  chicken supplier)

(The chosen victim for lunch)

(The protein pen of waiting for slaughter chickens)

As self described foodies, we had to take a cooking class while there and bring home a variety of spice blends like Ras el Hanout. And of course dine out at places famous for their local dishes.

(Another souk shot)

(Jemaa el-Fna  plaza during Ramadan we had coffee watching people go by)

But before we get there, let’s describe Sandee’s disastrous after lunch Souk visit. We ambled direction Jemaa el-Fnaa central square famous for day and night entertainment for tourists and locals alike. The gigantic plaza is surrounded by souks, a myriad of narrow alleys, where all the vendors are having their stalls. 

(Bahia palace-the name means Brilliance

 walkway around inner courtyard)

(Bahia palace ceilings - just magnificent)

(View of the gardens from Harem area)

Before entering the souk area we visited the Bahia palace. The pictures of this now palace museum will not do it justice. An hour or so later, about 3 or 4 pm we ambled through the souks, where unfortunately one has to constantly jump aside as scooters race up to your butt before one knows it, which makes Sandee crazy. 

(Bahia fountain)

(The 8000 sq m. Bahia Palace was built at the end of the 19th century by the grand vizier of the sultan for himself and his wives and concubines. The grand vizier or chamberlain to the sultan was actually starting his life as a black slave but rose through the ranks to power.) 

                                   (Another Bahia courtyard)

As we saw the plaza open up to us, Sandee asked me to stand still, so she could get her iPhone to make a picture and then she discovered my backpack unzipped and her iPhone gone.

(The famous blue majorelle gardens in Marrakech, built by Louis Majorelle in the 1920’s purchased by Yves St Laurent and his life companion Pierre Berger. The walled in villa complex and gardens served Yves place of inspiration for his women empowering clothing line)

(The villa is now a museum about the couple)

(Water and plants brings tranquility)

After the futile dashing around to spot the thief, we returned in haste  to our Rhiyad where the staff arranged for the police to come (and they came with 5 of them) to make a report. A bureaucratic effort to appease tourists who by the way sign their name for the veracity of their statement under a written in Arabic document.

(Lemon trees bring that flavor to most of the Berber dishes)

(Goats seeking it higher up)

(So do the storks)

(Another plaza and again “Ramadan empty”. Not eating during the day does stymie activity)  

(Classic inner courtyard hotel view)

We did not see the central plaza until the third day and realized it was rather empty and not as bustling as described, because we visited Marrakech on the last days of Ramadan and the 99.9 percent of Muslims here were more exhausted than ever, eagerly awaiting at home or half asleep in their stalls the cannon booming announcement of the end of their fasting, which occurred on the forelast night of our visit, while dining in one of their more renowned local restaurants Al Fassia in a beautiful well-lit garden setting.

The next two days we found out how antlike busy the Medina is when normal life takes to the streets again.

(Our excursion to the sea town of Essouaria shows the main industry: fishing. Although going on these little ones onto the Atlantic Ocean?)

(Essouaria is a walled city, formally a slave trade depot)

(Blue and white are the city colors)

We took 2 of our 5 days, 1 day trips to the Atlas Mountains and to the seaside city of Essaouira, the respective stories of each to be read below the pictures.

(The Atlas Mountains are providing Amethyst and Agate)

(Views of mountain trails and waterfalls in the Atlas Mountains)

On the last day we took a cooking class done on the rooftop of a restaurant in the souks, by a lovely young lady named Fatima. She had us buy the ingredients, including the scrawny chicken, that featured in our chicken tajine. We also were introduced by her to a store owner of spices, who really tried to sell us the local oral “medicine” that would bring me virility, despite Sandee’s apparently unconvincing objections to its seeming need.

(Berber mountain forts and villages)

To end this story, dominated by Sandee’s bout of forced electronic withdrawal, as we had to return to the US before she could get a wireless provider replacement phone issued, we found that things could have been worse as told by two ladies we met in the airport, as we snaked our way to the passport booths. 

(The blue and white seaside town has these flat wind resisting trees)

We spotted a mother and daughter who sported blue Dutch passports instead of the maroon colored ones everybody else carried.

They on their first day in Marrakech had a scooter, manned by 2 villains, rip the backpack from the mother’s shoulder with all their documents, including passports, credit cards and cash, leaving them destitute behind.

(Typical roadside butcher)

The fact that the 16 year old daughter carried her own smartphone, allowed them to contact daddy back in the Netherlands, who wired money and provided all required info to the Dutch embassy consular officer in Casablanca (a full day travel away from Marrakech), so he could issue them these temporary blue passports, which incidentally gave them extra bonus time with the passport officials at the airport, explaining their story, since they missed entry stamps

(The Ramadan snooze)

We felt so much better about our woos.

(Even the crippled beggar snoozes so he doesn’t notice me)