Seaside to souks

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Geo: 31.6334, -7.9996

Waking feeling a little delicate to say the least, we eased ourselves cautiously out of bed and attempted to squeeze all of our purchases into our backpacks. I've achieved some things in my time that might allow me to be proud of them. However, I don't think I've been as vocal about any of my achievements as I was when I managed to zip up my backpack containing 2 extra long woven scarves, a huge ceramic serving plate, a pill box and two ceramic bowls, plus all of the luggage I came with. I whooped and cheered like someone who had reached the a South Pole unaided, on a unicycle. By this point, we were seriously considering buying a suitcase to use as carry on baggage, but we had managed to squeeze everything into our backpacks. However, with Marrakech's souks calling us, we knew we would need to be careful on the next stage of our journey - the stitching of our backpacks and day packs already straining at the seams!

Weather wise, it was unfortunately not the blue sky we had anticipated, and so retracing our steps to retake the photographs we had taken against the grey clouds of yesterday seemed pointless. So, we did what any other sensible person would do in our situation, and.... Went shopping again. In our defence, it was more of a window shop, although we did venture into a small art store and leave with a unique framed painted goat skin, with a stunning orange and white oil of a traditionally robed woman entering one of the main gateways of Essaouira - a fitting reminder of our time here.

We ambled along the ramparts once more, and then found ourselves back in the maze of backstreets, chatting animatedly with vendors, satisfying our eyes with a veritable feast of colours and textures in the vast array of shops and stalls. The cobbled streets were packed with locals going about their daily lives. We wandered in and out of the colourful awnings, taking in the vast array of trinkets and souvenirs available to us - brightly patterned ceramics, metalwork, acres of textiles in rainbows of pattern and colour, spices piled high in pyramids, lanterns of every shape, size and colour, the glass reflecting pools of shimmering colours onto the streets outside. It was not only our eyes that enjoyed the gluttony, our noses too were invited into the melee. Smoke hung in the air as marinaded meat sizzled and spat on skewers and griddles, the scent of freshly naked bread floated towards us, and the sweet smell of freshly squeezed orange juice was cut through with exotic spices and delicate herbs.

By this point, we were ravenous, our mouths watering in reaction to the clamour of scents around us. We stopped off in a small courtyard, overlooked by long balconies, where brightly painted tables and chairs were laid out in front of a vibrant cafe. Here we ordered what we thought would be a manageable 3 course meal with an extra portion of skewers to share. How wrong we were! The semoule soup starter arrived in a cauldron with a Moses basket of bread to accompany it. The soup itself, a ground couscous or semolina, delicately flavoured, thick and hot, was delicious, but, due to its carbtastic nature, I was stuffed after just half a vat. Stacey was none to keen, explaining that it reminded her of semolina pudding at school. Then, the main course was brought to our table. A mountain of couscous, topped with half a chicken - marinated in a beautiful blend of spices, tainted yellow by the saffron - and a thick eruption of caramelised onions, raisins and orange arrived. It did not matter how many mouthfulls of the delicious meal I ate, it never reduced in size. In the end, I offered my leftover meat to the cat, waiting patiently by the table, imploring me with its pale green eyes to give it just a morsel of the food I was so enjoying. It was the only way I could have respectable given the plate back to the kitchen without it seeming as though I had not enjoyed it. Stacey had to polish off the creme brûlée I had ordered, or I feared my stomach might actually burst. One thing in Morocco that future visitors should take note of - they could give the Americans a run for their money in terms of portion size in restaurants. By the third day of our trip, we had kearned that sharing meals would be the way forward - each meal easily feeds two, with food to spare!

After lunch, it was time to meet back at the riad to board the local bus back to Marrakech. After 8 days on a minibus, this was veritable luxury - a full sized coach with reclining seats and footrests. Aside from this excitement, the two and three quarter hour journey back was mostly unremarkable. We did pass some pretty orchards and vineyards, their uniform trees and vines laid out in neat rows, stretching out across the landscape. In the distance, we could see the High Atlas Mountains, but due to the low lying cloud, their beauty was fairly muted. I suppose at some point, we had to have a day of humdrum scenery - no country can be so outstanding as to have postcard-worthy views at every turn, and we have had more than our fair share. However, it did grant a good opportunity for catching up on the sleep deprived by last nights excesses, and so, we slumbered.

We arrived back into the madness of Marrakech - a sudden jolt into the cacophony that is this manic city, particularly after the serenity of Essaouira. We hopped into three petit taxis, regulation beige cabs that roam the new city, weaving in and out of the traffic, swerving and swiping in and out of traffic, switching lanes seemingly on a whim, and causing us all to scramble for our seatbelts within seconds of the car pulling out of the terminal.
Once we were back in the sanctuary of our hotel in the New City, back in our room from the first night, we quickly changed and joined our group for dinner and drinks. I enjoyed a Moroccan twist on a classic pizza, with the same sausages that I had sampled in the streets of Essaouira's medina on the previous night. But three slices in, I had to admit defeat, the remnants of the ludicrously large lunch haunting me! Once we had all bid one another goodbye, among offers of hospitality from across the globe, which we hope to one day take up, it was off to bed to ready ourselves for the next three days exploring the area as a twosome.

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