Morocco, Day 2

The Marrakech Express

The following day we secured our misplaced luggage and took the train to Marrakech. This time we opted for a taxi to the Medina, or Old City. Most of the larger towns will feature an old Arab section surrounded by a Ville Nouvelle, built by the French. The king at the time of independence was Mohammed V and so, in his honor, the largest boulevard is usually named for him. His son, Hussan II, rules the country now and his picture is everywhere you look.

Our hotel, the Hotel Ali, was located right by the major marketplace, the Djemaa el-Fna, 'Assembly of the Dead'! This area apparently appeals to the budget adventurers and their double occupancy rate of 14 Dirham was attractive to us as well. The room included hot water and passable bedding. The hotel was undergoing renovations as this was still prior to the high tourist season, which begins in the later spring. This fact relieved much of the apprehension about being closed out of a place to stay, which happened only once the whole trip. Another nice factor was the suite of Internet computers at the back of the lobby. We took our first fix of email before walking out to explore. The connection speed was sometimes glacially slow as at least a half-dozen PCs shared a single ISDN line. And then there's the matter of the French/Arabian keyboard…

At night, the center of the Djemaa el-Fna is filled with food vendors. To one side crowds watched street performances. The key, we discovered, was getting past the first wave of hustlers to eat at the stalls. We fell victim to two ploys by being sluggish and easy marks. The first night out, a veiled woman appeared at Pam's side to show her some henna body art. The next thing we knew, Pam's hand was in a vise-like grip while this woman did a quick design with a menacing looking hypodermic needle. Naturally, for this little 'demonstration' some payment was shrilly demanded. I believe we gave her a few coins and fairly ran to the safety of the food court. It is said that there are police in the square, but we saw no evidence of them.

The stalls in the center were piled high with food. There were several with a broad selection while some specialized in eggs, fish or snail dishes. We opted for a stand with the standard brochettes (Skewered meat), kafta (Ground meat), couscous and vegetables. Walking down the center of the aisle, every worker tries to entice you in every known western tongue to sit at his or her establishment. My typical approach of choosing the place with the most natives was useless given the crush of tourists. Still, the food was fresh and, although the portions tended to be small, good and reasonable. I'd guess we spent perhaps $8 to feed us both.

Ready for a walk, we took to the side alleys and explored. Near the central market are the stores. While technically speaking I believe the term 'souk' defines a market for the local residents, usually somewhat specialized in the region's wares, the name was applied liberally to any collection of shops that catered to the tourists. Crowding near the Djemaa el-Fna were any number of vendors selling woven goods, metal work and ceramics. All eye contact or momentary hesitation brought a multi-lingual shopkeeper running to entice us to enter and view their inventory. The chorus became more and more familiar to us as the trip progressed, as all that was promised was a treat for our sense and the best price possible. Entering an establishment meant losing at least a quarter hour, with more and more product offered for our approval. We found our best tactic to be walk down the center of the street, pausing as little as we could stand. The best exploration came when we left the beaten path and wandered without direction, in wonder at the intricately carved and sometimes massive doorways. Men seemed disinterested, the women usually looked disapprovingly, but the wide-eyed children usually offered a smile and a hopeful 'Bon nuit'. The streets were muddy and too small for automobiles, but posed no limits on the moped riders who wove among the crowds of pedestrians.

The Marrakech Express The following day we secured our misplaced luggage and took the train to Marrakech. This time we opted for a taxi to the Medina, or Old City. Most of the larger towns will feature an old Arab section surrounded by a Ville Nouvelle, built by the French. The king at the time of independence was Mohammed V and so, in his honor, the largest boulevard is usually named for him. His son, Hussan II, rules the country now and his picture is everywhere you look. Our hotel, the Hotel Ali, was located right by the major marketplace, the Djemaa el-Fna, 'Assembly of the Dead'! This area apparently appeals to the budget adventurers and their double occupancy rate of 14 Dirham was attractive to us as well. The room included hot water and passable bedding. The hotel was undergoing renovations as this was still prior to the high tourist season, which begins in the later spring. This fact relieved much of the apprehension about being closed out of a place to stay, which happened only once the whole trip. Another nice factor was the suite of Internet computers at the back of the lobby. We took our first fix of email before walking out to explore. The connection speed was sometimes glacially slow as at least a half-dozen PCs shared a single ISDN line. And then there's the matter of the French/Arabian keyboard… At night, the center of the Djemaa el-Fna is filled with food vendors. To one side crowds watched street performances. The key, we discovered, was getting past the first wave of hustlers to eat at the stalls. We fell victim to two ploys by being sluggish and easy marks. The first night out, a veiled woman appeared at Pam's side to show her some henna body art. The next thing we knew, Pam's hand was in a vise-like grip while this woman did a quick design with a menacing looking hypodermic needle. Naturally, for this little 'demonstration' some payment was shrilly demanded. I believe we gave her a few coins and fairly ran to the safety of the food court. It is said that there are police in the square, but we saw no evidence of them. The stalls in the center were piled high with food. There were several with a broad selection while some specialized in eggs, fish or snail dishes. We opted for a stand with the standard brochettes (Skewered meat), kafta (Ground meat), couscous and vegetables. Walking down the center of the aisle, every worker tries to entice you in every known western tongue to sit at his or her establishment. My typical approach of choosing the place with the most natives was useless given the crush of tourists. Still, the food was fresh and, although the portions tended to be small, good and reasonable. I'd guess we spent perhaps $8 to feed us both. Ready for a walk, we took to the side alleys and explored. Near the central market are the stores. While technically speaking I believe the term 'souk' defines a market for the local residents, usually somewhat specialized in the region's wares, the name was applied liberally to any collection of shops that catered to the tourists. Crowding near the Djemaa el-Fna were any number of vendors selling woven goods, metal work and ceramics. All eye contact or momentary hesitation brought a multi-lingual shopkeeper running to entice us to enter and view their inventory. The chorus became more and more familiar to us as the trip progressed, as all that was promised was a treat for our sense and the best price possible. Entering an establishment meant losing at least a quarter hour, with more and more product offered for our approval. We found our best tactic to be walk down the center of the street, pausing as little as we could stand. The best exploration came when we left the beaten path and wandered without direction, in wonder at the intricately carved and sometimes massive doorways. Men seemed disinterested, the women usually looked disapprovingly, but the wide-eyed children usually offered a smile and a hopeful 'Bon nuit'. The streets were muddy and too small for automobiles, but posed no limits on the moped riders who wove among the crowds of pedestrians.
Day 1	Home	Day 3