It has been over a month since we have traveled and the holiday season came and went, the time for another adventure arrived. The cold grey winter (occasionally white) needed some warmth and sunshine - so we booked a trip to Marrakech. Neither of us have been to Africa, therefore; this was a highly anticipated experience with a new culture. Oddly enough, when driving to the airport - Toto's "Africa" came on the radio station minutes before parking (not a literary liberty, this actually happened). After a four hour flight, we landed on another continent. In a new environment, it was imperative to learn the only way to facilitate a fair price (for anything) was to bargain - starting with the cab ride to our hotel. The RIU Tikida Palmeraie is outside the Medina, and according to the resort's staff, the fixed rate should be around 200 Dirham. The first three taxi drivers refused to accept anything less than 350 Dirham because the hotel was not inside the old city. Eventually, we found a driver that would take us for the appropriate fare (Note: always agree on price beforehand).
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Fresh-squeezed orange juice stands |
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Colorful tables |
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Enter the souks |
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The following morning started with a breakfast buffet before boarding the bus to "Casablanca." The facetious destination was a hackneyed joke of our driver - repeated every time he transported patrons to and from the Medina. Arriving in the walled city, the peddling immediately begins just as foot hits pavement. Being our first day, we did't have any particular plans, aside from walking around and become engrossed with the wonders of Moroccan culture. It was early in the day and the Djemaa el Fna was relatively quite - sporadically littered with fortune tellers, henna tattoo artists, and lines of fresh-squeezed orange juice vendors. We walked through the square and entered the souks, the famed markets of Marrakech - and an absolute sensory overload.
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Bags |
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Weaving carpet |
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Shopping for a scarf |
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Generally, Julie and I take the information from guidebooks with a grain of salt due to their occasional usefulness (namely maps). However, our reference guide wrote nostalgically of getting lost in the souks - narrow alleyways, ceaseless turns, and countless merchants. Consequently, it took no time to realize disorientation was inevitable - if someone says otherwise, they are a liar (don't trust them). Navigating through the souks is like going through a maze of mirrors, in the dark, with nothing but a flashlight and tissue (What's the tissue for? To wipe your tears when you want to give up). We first explored the carpet makers, the potters, and the dyers market - dyers that didn't push around an over-sized tire like
Barak in Die Frau ohne Schatten. Our lack of directional maneuverability landed us back where we started, Djemaa el Fna.
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People watching |
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One of many spice stands |
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Dyers Market, drying wool |
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Given our location, our sights were set on visiting the Koutoubia Mosque and Minaret. Non-Muslims are not granted access inside mosques in Moroccao, therefore; we walked the perimeter to take pictures. A local gentleman joined us and gave a brief history of the mosque and explained some of the many nuances. He offered an all-day tour for 200 Dirham - before agreeing, we requested to see El Badi Palace and Bahia Palace. At the time, it seemed like a good idea, however; Julie got us duped into a Moroccan kickback hustle (her enthusiasm trumped my reluctance). This was readily apparent when passing La Mamounia Hotel, a place we quickly stopped for photos, but our
guide, Abdul, blew right past it - a sign we should have noticed had it not been for the ubiquitous stimuli of Marrakech.
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Archway near Koutoubia Mosque |
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Largest mosque in Marrakech |
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Foundation of Old Mosque |
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Abdul led us to the Old Medina, a quiet area we were
lucky enough to have visited given it was the
last day of the Berber Market. I inadvertently took some pictures of locals, possibly captured some souls, got accosted, but the issue was rectified. While in the Old Medina, our
guide brought us to the carpet mecca - then informed us he would return in ten minutes after the call for prayer. Let the duping begin, we got sucked into a carpet show that went from vivid entertainment to used car sales pitch. The owner explained the different varieties and techniques used by various local tribesman. Then came the pageantry; roughly 63 rugs were rolled out before our feet - the salesman begged, "you like...good price...only €3000...a good invest." We complemented the craftsmanship despite our lack of interest, yet more and more rugs appeared at our feet - the first thirty carpets were no longer visible. How could we escape this burden? We waited thirty-five minutes before Abdul returned, when we subsequently left without a purchase.
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Take a seat, here comes the carpet show |
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Taking pictures of the mosaic tile, we don't want any carpets |
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Cannot grasp supply and demand here |
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The carpet spectacle seemed out of place for a "tour," but we wanted to see the two palaces - so we pressed on to the next location, a store specializing in oils and spices. The storied history of the items were nice, but the pervasive sales technique was quite the opposite. Julie conceded to pay for a cheap hand massage while I was stuck having spices shoved into my face - onetime, one was literally stuffed up my nose. We learned that many of the herbs (supposedly) cured myriad ailments - name something, there is a seasoning for that - and apparently every spice was a cold sore elixir. Why the particular obsession with fever blister alleviation is beyond me. At some point, the saleswomen used her finger to apply miracle balm to her lips and the moment that same finger came in my direction I retracted like a frightened turtle. Feeling bad, I thought it'd be nice if we bought a small amount of spices - the cost, €10. Then, Julie tried to pay for her massage and was immediately informed that she somehow received
two (priced per hand perhaps). I am not sure if scamming has a scent, but if it does, it most certainly smells like this oil and spice store.
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Look a lamp, is the pageantry over yet |
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Lantern area of souks |
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More colorful cones |
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Upon leaving, Abdul informed us that the "all day" (hour) tour had ended and demanded his 200 Dirham payment. Our obstinate refusal flummoxed our
guide, who explained that he took us to a
rare Berber Market and to
all these
wonderful stores. We tell him that the tour wasn't the one offered and tried to hand him a twenty note. He refused, stormed off, but we were free from the dupe-overlord (Note: every meal of Julie's will now contain our 100 Dirham cold sore anecdotal mystery spice for getting us into this mess).
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Captured souls in the Old Medina |
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Hamsa of Morocco |
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Man exiting mosque in Old Medina |
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Deciding to revise our aimless tour of Marrakech, we organized the second half of our day with structured detail. To start, we ventured to El Badi Palace after visiting the Jewish Quarter. Never visiting the palace, we managed to walk around the building. If Marrakech lacks anything, it is appropriate signage - for streets, attractions, or anything aside from a storefront that should be labeled. We were lost and we weren't even in the souks, but taking advantage of our miscues - we found a government owned souvenir store (similar to Ensemble Artisanal). This shop informs visitors of the "fair market value" of items which are often overpriced in the souks (information to be used for bargaining). Shortly thereafter, we spotted a point of reference and headed to the Saadian Tombs, a "top ten" attraction according to our guidebook. Admission is only ten Dirham and is certainly an interesting site worth a visit for one Euro.
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More colors |
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And we are lost... |
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Now we are in a random neighborhood |
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Our last sightseeing stop of the day would end with a leisurely stroll through Bahia Palace. Both of us agreed that the "top ten" label of the Saadian Tombs was misleading when compared to Bahia Palace. Here, there are 150 rooms, mosaic-tiled courtyards, intricate architecture, and hand-carved cedar ceilings - a most serene atmosphere. However, ominous cloud cover influenced us to curtail our visit and return to the main square.
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Saadian Tombs |
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Weren't discovered until 1917 |
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Sultan's mausoleum |
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We headed towards Djemma el Fna and entered the northern end of the souks. The steady rain encouraged several others to crowd the covered market. The downpour didn't appear like it would let up anytime soon, therefore; we decided to shop for souvenirs. Again, the guidebook proved to be useful - when it comes to negotiating in the souks, always start low. Julie and I decided that regardless of the price, our offer would be a quarter of the initial quote (items over 500 Dirham were met with our base price of 100 Dirham) - a counter that will most likely be greeted with incredulous laughter.
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More mosaic tiles |
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More dead people |
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Entrance to Bahia Palace |
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For example, when buying a small mirror that resembled the door of a mosque, the vendor asked for 700 Dirham. We proposed an offer of one-hundred, to which the gentleman took "offense" to the "absurd" value. The merchant, Abdul (same name, different person than the kickback tour guide) inched his way to a lower price, but didn't want to go below 400 Dirham. We remained steadfast and ultimately walked away. About thirty meters down the alleyway, Abdul yelled to us - promising a better deal. We ended up making a new friend and agreed on 120 Dirham for the mirror.
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We later joined Abdul in his African jewelry store (literally across the alley) with a collection from around the continent - some beautiful, others ornate, and the rest catering to those with a unique taste (subjective opinion - hideous). He described the jewelry, the origins (may or may not be true), and was a good salesman with a great sense of humor. It wasn't long before he handed us a bracelet with a stone he referred to as, "Obama black," mid-confusion, he clarified the stone was was onyx. Julie selected six bracelets and a necklace - the bidding started at 2,400 Dirham, not a chance. Her unyielding method facilitated a price that was the equivalent of $5 per bracelet and $20 for the necklace - a favorable price for all parties. Abdul invited us to return another day to drink tee with him, exchange pleasantries, and maybe look at some more merchandise. We would have loved to join him, and we even tried to find his location, but our efforts were futile much to our dismay.
We have fallen in love with Morocco - the city is beautiful, the people are cordial and welcoming (be careful, some do want to scam you for money, but only a small percentage) - plus, everything seems to be negotiable.
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