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Published: June 30th 2008
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Well about 30 hours out of Zanzibar via Nairobi via Amsterdam via Heathrow via Gatwick we arrive in Marrakesh. All this instead of flying direct from Tanzania to Marrakesh to save a mere $2000.00! Thanks to Ben for providing us with comfort, a much needed shower and a great meal at a Thai restaurant during our brief stay in London.
We didn't get the heat in "Africa Proper" re Tanzania/Kenya, as one of our fellow English travellers said, but we sure got it now! 45 degrees was waiting for us at Marrakesh airport. Off we went to try our bargaining skills on the local taxi crew. He was a tough nut to crack for us polite Canadians, but we agreed on 130 dirhams about $20 cdn. Higher than Lonely Planets suggested cost, obviously due to the "fuel crisis". We've learned that no matter what address you tell a taxi driver over here he knows exactly where it is, even if he must ask 12 other drivers for directions before you've moved 100 meters. Of course he's got you in the cab by that point. With, by the way, no window handles and only one door handle in the back!!!!
Me on the road to recovery
Although this was/is not great, 5 star compared to the first Little did we realize that our driver had entered us in the Moroccian Grand Prix, along with 3 million other taxis, trucks, scooters, bicycles and another million pedestrians, all determined to make 48 lanes from a 4 lane highway.
Our journey toward our Hostel led us back in time. From a modern North African city, the buildings washed with all hues of pink and beige, to the walled Medina an ancient city all by itself. Dropped off by taxi somewhere around the 16th century, and with a nonchallant wave from the driver toward a dark alley four feet wide, we where on our way. Oh...of course after the driver demanded that we had agreed on 150 dhms at the airport. That was Lesleigh's cue to walk away peeved off. I shoved the 130 in his hand, muttered something in Newfaneese, gave him a big goofy smile and raced to catch up with Lesleigh who, rounding the first corner gave me a quick over the shoulder glance. I assured myself that this was likely the last time our eyes would ever meet, and as she disappeared in the crowd I discovered it is possible to run with a 30kg pack
The chaos
Dejmma El Fna - the sqaure in the old Medina on your back!
Everyone here assumes that you are lost and there are dozens and dozens of men of all ages every 10 feet that are delighted to offer assistance for a "very few dirhams monsieur", some will even lead you in the complete opposite direction for much less.
I really can't remember how we found our place but we did. The guy was nice and proceeded to write up our lodging contract for a much higher price than what was booked on the internet. He showed us a copy of an internet page print out with the price, we shrugged our shoulders and were about to secede when we noticed it was for Dirk VonStrauzaddenfudden, some Dutch guy from 2007! I excused myself, leaving Lesleigh to enjoy mint tea with a complete stranger, gave her the nod to guard the two backpacks and made my way back to an Internet Cafe I had noted on the way, to print off OUR reservation.
With everything worked out, a lady showed us to our 7'x9' windowless, draftless but not odorless detention cell. We looked bravely at eachother with a " it's just for one night" stare, shrugged off
El Fna from above
Not a lot of pics from Marakesh our packs, held our breath as we washed our faces in the "bathroom" and made our way into the Medina to look for alternate accomodations and a bite to eat. We scored both. A great meal of something and french fries(these pomme fritte have and will continue to haunt us for some time to come..even for Lesleigh the fry lover) and a nice spaceious room with a window at half the cost. Having read about the legendary fresh squeezed orange juice stalls in the Djemma El Fna, Lesleigh couldn't resist ordering a tall glass from one of the venders. She did us all proud and beat the guy down to 4 dhms from 15. I had picked up the start of a flu in London and even though it looked delicious I declined. Lesleigh's glass of fresh squeezed sunshine turned out to be her downfall , with all to frequent trips to the "squatter" for the next few days. We found out later that the trick is they half fill the glass up with water when you're not looking...yummmmm!
We were completely exhausted and made it back to the room where we we proceeded to take shifts of sleeping
Again the square at night
...madness, so many smells and sounds and sweating for the next 12-14 hours. This period was broken only by my scoring a fan with the doorman. He took me downstairs to test a room full of fans in various states of disrepair. Unsure if we should even attempt plugging some of them in, we evaluated each, and with grunts and a nod of agreement we tried them one by one. I'm not kidding, after much stillness and silence and a few sparks I was about to break out the Leatherman and make one working fan of them all when the last one worked. We both looked at eachother in a language of triumph that needed no words. I proudly strutted back up the castle steps to show my fair maiden what her brave knight had brought back from battle! ;-) I'm getting goosebumps now remembering just what a difference that little breeze meant. Some good me son.
We spent the next couple of days wandering around Marrakesh, using the internet, drinking luke warm Fanta and Coke, planning our trip to the Dunes and the Gorges, eating too much in search of "authentic" Morrocian food and thoroughly enjoying a couple of icy cold Heinekens at the "Kozy Bar".
The night before we left, having saved a bundle on accomodations, we decided to try a nice restaurant recommended by the (GD) Lonely Planet. We made reservations, using our snazzy new $50 cell phone we picked up in Tanzania, and the guy said no problem. After an agreed price of 30dhms, off we went on leg 2 of the Grand Prix, this time in the dark...yippee. Man, twists and turns, zig-zags, u-turns...Lesleigh and I hadn't a clue where we were when the driver pulled up in front of our "great food at a budget price" restaurant with newspapers covering all the windows! Gone out of business was the agreed conclusion by all in the cab. No problem, whip out the LP guide and find another restaurant nearby.....yeah sure. Called the new spot, the guy spoke excellent english...great we'll be there in five! "80 dhms more monsieur", was the reply after we relayed the new address. We didn't see it coming at all...was a wonder the cabbie was able say it without busting out laughing!! He had us...oh well bite the bullet...a lovely meal is in store....yeah right. Little did we know the Morrocian Mr. Bean would be our waiter for the evening. Ask us about it sometime after the pain of the 110 dhm cab ride and 500 dhm meal have healed!!! Oh yeah...by the way in case you clever ones were wondering...the phone number for the first restaurant was printed in the Lonely Planet for a different restaurant. Uh huh.
I've had a little fun here but Marrakesh is amazing and I wouldn't change (hardly) a thing. We're in the basement of an internet cafe here and its quite isolated but I wrote this to my Mom on our second day here.
"Marrakech is very crazy, there is quite a buzz here. It is 11 am and just out side the window of the internet cafe is the Medina and I can hear snake charmers, hundreds of hawkers selling their goods, all types of music, scooters whizzing by, trucks beeping their horns and many people arguing and those involved in "the art of conversation"....not to mention all the smells from barbecue and curry all the way to fine french pastries and donkey poop!!!!"
Next up...the journey out of Marrakesh.
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