Jardin Marjorelle, Badi Palace and Dark Marrakesch

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We started the day with another nice breakfast at our Riad Eden. They really make a nice breakfast here.



We wanted to go to the Marjorelle gardens, designed and owned by the late Yves Saint Laurent. But it was too far to walk on our own so we had to navigate getting a taxi.

Robyn and I are paranoid about taxis, and here in Marrakech with our anxiety level at an 11 were were in no mood to be messed with. These are the tricks I employ now when in a sketchy city and I have to get a taxi.

-Rate - The money's really not that important but who wants to pay double what they should. So I usually try to ask a rate from a local for how much a taxi should be to a certain site or part of town. In this case I asked our Riad maid how much it should be. This way I know at least when they're WAY overcharging me.

-Where - We approached a line of taxis (something I always hate to do) and began discussing rate with a taxi driver (he wanted more than double the rate I knew I should get). Then he started talking to a man that I think was in charge of the taxis in the line, they were discussing the rate and speaking quickly in arabic (not a good sign). Why he would need to discuss it with this person was beyond me, so I walked away. The collusion of it scared me. They immediately lowered the price as I walked, but at this point the sketch alarm was too high. I kept walking.

-Catch One On The Street - Because of a bad experience Robyn and I had, I now much-prefer to catch a taxi on the street (not in a line of taxis). Reason being that they haven't had time to set any shady stuff up. If you're catching it on the street, you know that there's probably not a guy right around the next block that the taxi driver is in collusion with, who's going to jump you and steal your stuff. Could it happen? Sure. But it's less likely. Robyn and I easily flagged a taxi down on the street, who made a U turn in crazy traffic to pick us up. After a quick and painless haggling, he came down to the price that the lady at the Riad said to pay.



Off we were to the majorette gardens. They were a relaxing breath from the chaos of the city, and they had a great museum about Berber culture. But part of me felt strange going to such a fancy manicured garden in an otherwise impoverished and dirty city. It must be what the Taj Mahal feels like on a smaller scale. Such a grand thing, in a country that is so very poor. On a continent that is even poorer.


We took a horseback ride back to the medina.

Snake charmers.

Badi Palace. (part almost fell on Robyn's head)

Dinner out

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