Farewell to the frenetic city

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Geo: 31.6334, -7.9996

We enjoyed our final breakfast in Marrakech by vowing to a) eat no more bread. Ever. And b) detox for a year to allow our insulin levels to return to somewhere in the normal range. Every breakfast we have had has been laden with sugar - sweet bread, jam, croissants, pains au chocoats, pancakes, cake, sweet orange juice and fruit yoghurt - a combination of any of these have been the mainstay of our breakfasts, while sugary mint tea has been our welcome drink in every hotel and attraction we've visited. All incredibly delicious but our digestive systems now need a good dose of protein and some simple sugar-free food!

We had another mini celebration as we crammed our bags for the final time, managing to cleverly pack our belongings into contortions that resembled Russian dolls. Socks inside shot glasses inside hats inside socks inside shoes, stuffed into the pockets of bags. When we unpack, it will be with the flair of a magician, pulling rabbits, hankies and doves out of every available space. Finally the bags were finished and with a whoop of delight we realised that our hand luggage was only half full. There would be room for one last chance to bargain!

We retraced our steps from two nights before and made our way to Jaama El Fnaa, where evening the food stalls had given way to water-sellers, tooth pullers and locals selling carloads of cheap ceramics and other souvenirs. We crossed the huge square, stopping to gaze at the Koutoubia mosque - the minaret rising dramatically into the sky and providing a perfect navigational tool for those lost in the medina - its ratio of 1:5 in terms of width to height has now been taken as a perfect measurement for minarets, and has inspired towers all of the world. Even in this pedestrian-packed area, bikes and motorcycles zoomed past us, and the situation did not ease as we reached the edges of the square. Here we attempted to walk to the Bab Anaou, the oldest gateway to the ancient city, however, i order to do so, we had to brave the traffic. After standing at a zebra crossing for about ten minutes, we realised we just had to walk into the fray and let the traffic move around us.

We arrived at the gate to see our old favourite friend - scaffolding. Wherever we go in the world, no matter which country, the main monument we want to see is always covered in scaffolding. We have been incredibly lucky on this trip that this was the first blight that we had seen, and to be fair, with buses pulling up next to the gate every twenty seconds, regurgitating swathes of tourists onto the pavement, we would have been hard pressed to get an impressive shot of it anyway. The gate itself is an ornate blue carved Goliath, with an impressive series of arches and flowers, flanked by two wide columns of the typical red stone, and towers over the pavement. However, due to its age, it is now beginning to fall into a state of disrepair, and is not as impressive as I'm sure it once was. This, coupled with the hordes of tourists we would have had to fight through, meant that we skirted the arch itself and entered the old kasbah via the side.

From here, we followed crudely painted sides, through the bustling streets, traders calling out to us as we passed, to the Saadian tombs. These intricate and beautiful grounds were surrounded by high walls, and accessed via a long, narrow passageway with huge sandy coloured walls looming above us. As we emerged into the bright courtyard, we were transported into a calm and ordered scene. The tombs were built for the royalty of the Saadian dynasty, but unlike most of the city, were never desecrated or plundered by later generations and so remain beautifully in tact. Three main tombs lie inside an ornate gilded pavilion, those of the sultan Ahmed El-Mansour, his son and grandson. After queueing amongst mosaic-covered tombs that dappled the courtyard, row upon neat row of beautiful tiled boxes - final resting place of princes and other royal staff and family members, we reached the pavilion itself.

As we peered into the darkness, sunlight filtered in through artfully carved stonework in the ceiling, high windows letting in beams of light that illuminated the tombs below. The central section was surrounded on four sides by beautiful carved archways, supported by intricate columns. The one disappointment was that it too, was being renovated. From the description in the guidebook, it would appear that you can usually enter the mausoleum and really appreciate the carved and painted ceiling, but due to the construction work, we were held at the doorway by a barrier. However, despite the scaffolding, it was still a fitting resting place for royalty, and has thankfully stood the test of time, making it one of Marrakech's most visited sites.

From here, we wandered through the streets, trying desperately to follow the map we had been given to reach the Badi Palace - a sprawling ruin that appeared to be two streets away from the tombs. However, whoever had made the map had clearly never been in the neighbourhood - streets that were drawn didn't exist and vast buildings stood in the way of the route we were trying to follow. Eventually with the assistance of two tourists who were sensibly using Google Maps on their phone, we found what we were looking for. Having not done much research, we had no idea of what to expect as we walked into the complex, but it certainly wasn't what we actually encountered. A vast terracotta wall surrounded a huge courtyard, a central pool, surrounded by four large pools creating depth and shape with the original mosaics still inlaid on the stone under our feet. Huge archways led to large rooms, reception rooms for guests of the sultan, and at one end, the foundations of a huge crystal palace that would have looked out over the gardens.

At the other end, we descended inlaid marble steps to a beautiful complex of small rooms with stone tiled floors. This is where visitors would have been accommodated and you could imagine it was incredibly lavish in its day. The whole place was a maze of gateways, corridors and sunken room and we could easily have spent a whole day in there, but there was still a huge section of the Southern Medina to explore. Gazing down on the scene below were the storks who have built gargantuan nests atop the high walls, huge piles of sticks looking like they might tumble down at any time. They swooped across the courtyard to their nests in turn, one perching on the wall while the other flew off to scavenge for food, their regal postures befitting a palace abode. From here, we climbed the stairs to a terrace cafe just outside the palace walls, From here we had a view across the rooftops of the medina, eye to eye with the storks of the palace.

Bellies full, we wound through the streets again to find the second palace of the area - the Bahia Palace, which is at the opposite end of the spectrum to the Badi. Although deserted, after the owner was driven out by his servants, the palace is still completely intact, with beautifull fountains, gardens and incredible ceilings painted in gaudy colours in sophisticated patterns. The walls were marble, lending a refreshing coolness to the visit. Huge wooden pillars flanked wide doorways and the whole palace, with the well-tended gardens had an air of tranquillity, so difficult to find in this city.

We then entered the labyrinthine streets, navigating via a series of signs painted roughly onto walls, guiding us past shops and through a winding series of alleyways. Electrical cables snaked above our heads, stonework crumbling on the walls, all of which, far from detracting from the beauty of the city, emphasised it. We were tempted into a Hamman that we passed, and given a guided tour of its sultry rooms, the oppressive heat sticking our clothes to us. Back into the relative cool of the shaded alleyways, we eventually found ourselves at the Dar Si Said museum, a former home which now houses a vast collection of art and artefacts from the history of Morocco. However, despite the interesting exhibits, among them a wooden carousel for children - small box-like cribs rotating around a wide wheel - and martial chairs, the woman's with myriad chambers and hidden compartments for storing presents, it is the building itself which is the star of the show. Like many of the preserved buildings in this district, the architecture and decor is simply stunning. Cedarwood is carved into patterns and the high ceilings were painted in as much finery as those of the palace. Serene gardens took us by surprise each time we stepped out into the sunny courtyards between each room of the house. We spent an hour wandering through the exhibits and taking in the surroundings, before noticing with sadness that we only had an hour left in the city before we needed to head back to the airport.

There was just enough time for one more shopping experience, which turned out to be one of the most bizarre on the trip. Walking through the souks in the Northern Medina, a shopkeeper noticed our accents and began to chat to us. He asked if we knew who Jamie Oliver was, of course, we were intrigued as to where this was going, and so followed him inside. Here, he showed us pictures of the man himself, shopping in this very store to buy ingredients for the photoshoot for one of his cookery books. Once he had his captive audience, he launched into his patter about the products we could buy from him. Unfortunately for our new friend, we had of course been party to the same patter at the spice-shop in Ouzarzate, so the conversation went like this:

Shopkeeper: We can give you herbs that do many things, they stop snoring and work on colds. (producing a bag of black seeds) You know what this is?
Me: Nigella seeds.
SK: Oh. You know?
Me: Yep, we have those.
SK: OK, what about this, (picking up small piece of resin) you know what this is?
Me: ((taking it from him and rubbing it on my wrist) yes, it's perfume, or you an put it with your clothes to scent them.
SK: (beginning to look dispirited, picking up a small vial of oil) this is....
Me: (interrupting) orange oil. You use it to help you go to sleep.
SK: You''re good. We do massage for 20 dirhams. You want?

We obliged this one request, as he seemed to have taken a real shining to Stacey. Yes, she replied, she was married. We continued this charade, giving her "husband" a name - James, who gives her such stress she has to come away and have massages. The shopkeeper could tell she was stressed, with the huge number of knots in her back. And they did their best to work out the knots, that's for sure. By the end of the massage, we were both begging for it to stop, and still felt the bruises if we accidentally nudged one another's backs for the next couple of days! After a quick kiss on the head by her new admirer, we were able to leave the chemist and venture back through the leather souk, breathing in the heady scent of hides as we stopped off to purchase just a couple more belts and one final lantern, then it was back to the riad and off to the airport.

We bade our farewells to the heaving streets as we drove off into the dusk, worshippers pouring out of the mosques after their sundown prayers, the minarets visible peering up above the stone walls of the city as we passed. We were sad to go, but so enamoured by the experiences that we had had, that we could not be too saddened. For the whole of the trip, we have compared Morocco to different places we have been, the alpine meadows, African dunes, colonial battlements, but now, having time to reflect, it simply has to be said that Morocco is not like anything else. Morocco is Morocco, it is its own country and has its own inimitable style. Yes, elements of it havd similarities with other places, but so does every part of the world. What makes the country so special is the blend of different landscapes, buildings and culture that been poured into one huge melting pot. It is intoxicating, invigorating, beautiful and welcoming. Go. I urge you, go before it becomes another westernised, modern country like any other. Go without prejudice and without any expectations. Go, and create your own adventure and your own sense of wonder in this fascinating, diverse land. Just Go.

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