Marrakech

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Returning to Marrakech after a two year absence was akin to feeling the embrace of a missed companion. This is a place that enchants the visitor with its veritable feast for the senses, from the music of the snake charmers to the aromas of the nightly food market in the main square. Whilst there is a large modern district, typified by long tree lined avenues, the real heart and soul of Marrakech lies with the walls that surround the Medina. The winding alleys of this Medina are juxtaposed with the expansive Jemaa el Fna square. During daylight hours this area is inhabited by palm readers, mystics, cobras swaying to Arabic scales, fruit sellers, monkey handlers and countless curious onlookers. Once night falls, this scene is replaced by another, consisting entirely of food stalls cooking up Moroccan delicacies for the hordes who simply cannot resist the call of their stomach once their nose detects the smell of simmering spices. Steam rises into the night sky amidst the radiance of light provided by the scores of light bulbs that hang above the fry pans and fresh produce. It is a spectacle not to be missed.

I spent my time in Marrakech wandering through the souks and getting to a couple of places I never got to last time around. One of these was the Bahia Palace, which contained fine examples of Moorish architecture and peaceful interior courtyards. I was surprised how similar some sections of the palace were to the riad I stayed in on my previous visit to Marrakech - which was budget accommodation!

The other destination was a Berber village in the Ourika Valley, located in the Atlas Mountains. Here I was fortunate enough to visit a family in their adobe home. The matriarch had never left the village, yet she had obviously been prepared to do away with her teeth! This probably has something to do with the amount of sugar that goes into her mint tea, which I watched her prepare from scratch (it was delicious, by the way). I also ate some bread prepared in their primitive wood-fire oven, dipping it in fresh honey or their homemade olive oil. It was a real privilege to visit the home of some of the original inhabitants of this region, gaining an understanding of their way of life. They are family oriented people and live a very humble life. For example, to bathe in this particular home, they have to light a fire beneath what is essentially a small sauna that you would have to nearly crawl into. This fire then heats the water that they wash themselves with. As I'm sure you'll agree, that is quite a process in order to get clean.

Whilst my stay in Marrakech was brief, it was wonderful to once again hear the calls to prayer from the towers of the mosques; to eat tagine meals where the flavoursome meat falls off the bone; to haggle with shopkeepers over the price of a ceramic dish - I could go on and on and on. It truly is a captivating place.

From Marrakech, my next stop was Casablanca. My advice is to watch the film that made this place famous and leave it at that. Casablanca is a dive. It is only about a hundred years old and was built by the French when Morocco fell under their control as a protectorate. Even though it is a relatively new city, it looks tired and dilapidated. I have already wasted too many words on describing the place. For some useless trivia, the film was actually shot in California!

Rabat, which is the capital city, has much more going for it. Whilst it is unlike Fes or Marrakech, it has its own appeal and is also the resting place for a much revered former king. I visited the mausoleum of Mohammad V, whose name lends itself to the grandest streets in many Moroccan cities. This was a beautiful building, outside of which is an expansive square consisting of many Roman columns, remnants of the time when that vast empire even stretched to the western coast of Africa. I couldn't resist the temptation and allowed myself to be a typical tourist and have my photo taken with one of the impeccably dressed armed guards who protect this mausoleum from desecration.

My last night in Morocco was spent in Tanger, with a view of Spain across the Strait of Gibraltar. This is a rapidly growing city, having quadrupled in size in the last twenty-five years. After an evening stroll on the beach, I headed to bed knowing that my sojourn through Morocco had come to an end. I couldn't get too depressed though, as I have heard many good reports concerning my next destination: Seville.

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