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Snake Handlers
These are the guys that got Dave as soon as we hit the square. Without a doubt, the easiest way to flatter me while traveling is to mistake me for a local, and be sincere about it. I am sure many have an alterior motive, anything to strike up a conversation and get me to look at their goods. But when they insist, when they tell me that I look like their brother Mohammed or Hamed, when they speak Arabic and get upset that I can't answer back, then it at least feels sincere. Never do I feel more accomplished than when I can conduct an entire transaction in another language without the vendor being none the wiser. Given my heritage, I can blend in quite easily in most countries in Europe and the Middle East (with the exception of Eastern Europe and Scandinavian countries of course), and I make sure to take full advantage.We arrive in Marrakech without incident, and take the #19 bus into the city center. The old square, or Jma al Fna, is the main attraction of Marrakech. If you can envision a classic Middle-Eastern plaza with pop-up shops everywhere, snake charmers, storytellers, magicians, then you would be halfway there to describing how incredible this square is. It's an assault on
Snaking it up
Slimy, but non-threatening. your senses as you slowly make your way across, we weren't even 5 minutes arrived before David got pulled in by a snake-handler and posed for a few choice pictures. The handler was experienced, he took David's camera and took at least 10 photos in various positions and angles. He may never be able to afford an iPhone, but he has done this enough times to be able to take good photo's with its camera. We still had all our luggage with us so once that was over we avoided all the other vendors and made straight for our hostel, or so we thought.You see, navigating through the old town of Marrakech probably hasn't changed much over the centuries. You have narrow alley-ways, winding corridors, and people selling their goods in random spots throughout. There are mopeds, people walking every which way, bicycles, and even donkeys, each vying for space in a corridor about 8 feet wide in most places. I was grazed by a speeding moped on more than one occassion, yet miraculously I never saw anyone fall down or crash into anything. And here I thought the traffic was bad in Cairo, but I'd take that crazy brand
Beef Tajine
They are really skimpy with the beef. Beneath all these veggies were two small pieces of lamb. of driving over this any day. And of course, as we are learning to navigate these streets we ended up getting lost trying to find the hostel. They try to prepare you for this, by emailing you a map and a link to a youtube video that literally walks you through the square into the hostel. But no amount of preparation can get you through this without getting lost, not on the first try. After about an hour of roaming around and asking several people for directions, we find a nice young lady who personally guides us to our location. So we check-in, pay for a few nights in advance at about $12 a night which includes unlimited tea and a pretty substantial Morrocan breakfast. First order of business is to get settled in, and get information on the excursions that are available out of Marrakech.As we get settled in we meet a group of other travelers; an Australian (of course), a guy with Lebanese heritage (who also spoke Arabic which was incredibly helpful), a Swedish fellow, a German, and us two Americans. We hit the town and look for local cuisine, not knowing exactly what that may consist of,
1000 year old Mosque
Given its age, its in surprisingly good condition. but we are all in Morocco so at the very least we are a group of open-minded travelers. After much deliberation, and many turned down offers from aggressive restauranteurs, we decide on a little place right next to the main square. Now what makes the old plaza unique, and more than just your typical tourist-trap, is that this is a gathering place for Moroccan's from all over. Many families save up their cash, and gather sellable goods, to make the trek to Marrakech a few times a year to buy/sell what they can, so you get a sense of authenticity to the marketplace. Our dining spot had mostly locals eating, it was here that I was first introduced to the Tajine. Tajine is a local dish that is essentially a beef/chicken stew with potatoes and many vegetables, all served in a covered plate. The steam from the cooked meat helps cook the vegetables and gives them a soft consistency. After a week in Morocco eating nothing but tajines for lunch/dinner its safe to say I got pretty damn sick of the stuff, it didn't help that the last tajine I had whilst in the Sahara ended up getting me sick,
Garden
Beautiful garden right near the center of town. There were orange trees everywhere. but I'm getting ahead of myself.Once lunch was over we all decided we could use a beer, which, being in an Arabic country, is much easier said than done. We walked around the old town, saw a 1000 year old mosque, took a stroll through a park, and made our way to the new part of town which we were told was one of the few places alcohol could be purchased. There is a stark difference between the old and new parts of town, the newer part has a distinctive European feel to it. After a few hours of walking around and 2 beers (I think Dave clocked in 10 miles within a 24 hour period on his pedometer) we took a taxi back to our hostel. David and I decided to take on the local custom of getting a hamaam and massage, essentially a massage followed by a deep scrub. I got something similar when I visited a Turkish Bath in Istanbul a few years ago, only that was much more intense. This served its purpose though, we were much more relaxed (no, not because of THAT) and squeaky clean.We went back to the old square for dinner where
Sun Rays
Came across this little corner as I was walking back to the hostel. It looked quite serene, pictures don't do it justice. Dave proceeded to try some of the more adventurous dining options Morocco has to offer. I will go anywhere and do just about anything, but I'll admit to not being nearly as adventurous when it comes to food. I swear, walking around with Dave is like a live version of Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern, nothing fazes the guy. I'm seriously surprised he didn't try what appeared to be the monkey brains. At the snail stand we learned of the first of two setbacks that evening. As Dave reached for his pocket to pay the vendor, he came up empty-handed. "Shit, how much money did I have on me? Did I really spend it all on the hamaam!?" Dave exclaimed. After re-tracing our purchases that evening we concluded that couldn't have been the case, his pockets were loose though and ultimately we concluded that someone at the market must have been quick with their hands and exploited Dave's trusting nature. Well, you live and you learn right? We figured at most it was about $60 usd that he ended up losing, sucks but its not the end of the world. We headed back to the hostel in anticipation of an
Storyteller
Entrancing story-teller sat a Moroccan woman down and regaled her with a fascinating tale of two scorn lovers and her ultimate revenge. Or at least thats what my extremely limited Arabic interpreted it as. early wake-up the next morning as we had booked an overnight trip to one of the gorges a few hours south of us.The next morning, as I was having breakfast and Dave was packing his things, we discovered the 2nd setback of the previous night. "Edgar, I can't find my passport, have you seen it, did you grab it by mistake?" David said to me in a an ever so slightly-panicked tone. "Ha ha Dave, get your shit together, we leave in 5 minutes" I answered. The tour guide came in and got the group together, everyone we met from the day before was scheduled to go on the same trip and we were all ready to go. Dave took everything out of his pack and came up empty-handed, I looked through my stuff and had no better luck. So it was decision time, do I go and leave my buddy behind as he desperately looks for his passport, or do I stick around and help him navigate the tricky waters of getting a temporary passport in an Arabic country with the closest US Consulate hours away? It wasn't an easy decision, but I remembered what it was like just
Old Square at Night
Dave's would-be pick-pocket could very well be somewhere in this shot. last year when something similar happened to me while in Bangkok. The decision was clear...
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Shawn
non-member comment
Love this picture. Especially the little shadowy ghost in the foreground.