Where is Fatima? Fatima, life is good.

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Last stop was nine days in Morocco with Tucky, visiting Marrakech, the Atlas Mountains, the Sahara Desert and the coastal town of Essaouira. We landed at Marrakech airport in the evening and were met by the transfer service to our hostel. They drove us into the Medina (the Old Town) and then escorted us through the winding alleys the rest of the way. Fortunately we were warned about the long walk through the maze that is the alleyways as, even being led by a reputable guide, it was slightly disconcerting in the pitch blackness.

First stop after settling in was to check out to the main square, Djemaa El Fna. By day the square is filled with snake charmers, men thrusting monkeys at tourists in the hope they'll have their photo taken with them, and stall owners selling orange juice, fruits and nuts. There are also the (very) annoying henna women, many of whom grab your hands and start painting them before you have the chance to refuse. We were accosted by one such woman on our first night who demanded we pay her 400 dirhams when she had finished (we didn't). Clearly she was either trying to rip us off, or she thought her work was pretty special, because we were offered henna for only five dirhams the next day.

By the afternoon the square really starts to come to life as the restaurants begin to set up, more stalls selling teas and desserts open, and the performers (storytellers, acrobats, dancers) come out to entertain the crowds. Our favourite part of the square was definitely the food, which we ate to the point of feeling quite sick each day. Favourites included tagine, tanjia, cous cous, pastilla and the excessively sweet mint and cinnamon teas. We also got up the courage to try snails, which were quite nice if you ignored the antennae.

Right next to the main square are the massive souks, or markets, where you could spend days looking around and exchanging banter with the owners who try to drag you into their shops. Some of the classic lines include:

- 'Hello my wife'
- 'Why will you deny me?'
- 'I like you hot smile'
- 'Nice eyes'

The restaurant touts use the same tactics to lure tourists in. One of them, however, seemed to miss the point that you're supposed to be friendly to people, otherwise they won't really want to come and eat with you. After calling us 'bloody f**king mingers,' we decided we'd try somewhere else. He had opened his bid to get us to eat at his restaurant by telling us he'd seen us yesterday, to which we responded that he couldn't have because we weren't in Marrakech. He seemed to take offence to this and started yelling at us. As we walked away he called out after us, 'Yeah, keep walking. Nobody cares. You're ugly anyway!'

Many of the other touts were far nicer. We stayed and had tea with a couple of them one night after dinner. They were keen to learn more about Australia as they use information about various countries to impress people. For example, they were able to quote just about all of Summer Heights High and Kath & Kim to us. After we played them Johnny Farnham they decided they would call all Australian men John Farnham from now on. We also told them it was Australia day the next day, but they got slightly confused with the wording and went round saying 'Happy New Day Australia' all the next day. Despite the Moroccans being extremely proficient in relation to languages (many of them can speak fluent Arabic, French, English, Spanish, etc.), we did have a few problems, especially with our names. Renee was constantly known as 'Brunai,' whereas I seemed to alternate between 'Pigeon' and 'Pregnant.'

Around all the eating we did in Marrakech, we did manage some cultural outings. We saw some beautiful architecture and artwork at various museums and palaces: The Museum of Marrakech, Ben Youssef Palace, Quobba Almoravide (ruins of cisterns), the Saadian Tombs, the nineteenth century Bahia Palace and the ruins of the sixteenth century Badii Palace.

From Marrakech we did a three day tour through the Atlas Mountains and the Sahara desert, which was filled with spectacular, constantly changing landscapes. On the first day we saw scenery switching between terraced farmland, sandy desert covered in cacti, gravelly red desert with palm trees, the snowy mountains of the Tichka Pass, and finally through the massive Dades Gorge. All throughout the day we saw almond and walnut trees, date palms and olive groves being farmed. We even stopped for a snow fight along the way, something you definitely wouldn't expect to be doing in Morocco. We also saw some pretty interesting sights people-wise: Women in burqas and men in their full djellabas, complete with pointy hoods, tearing round on motorbikes; donkeys and tractors carrying cartloads of burqa-ed women; the different styles of dress between villages - in some villages the women cover themselves in white shawls, in others black shawls, some villages expose their faces, whereas others cover up completely, and some even only allow one eye to be shown.

On the first day we also stopped at Ait ben Haddou kasbah, a huge kasbah made entirely from natural materials. The kasbah is well-known as the setting for many movies, such as Lawrence of Arabia and Gladiator. We met the owner of one of the houses and had tea in the cave in his house which was used in Gladiator. We also met a local artist who explained to us some of the methods he uses. He showed us how he uses a magnifying glass to burn pictures into wood, as well as how he paints with tea and then heats it over a flame to change the picture's colour.

The second day , after driving through the beautiful Toudra Gorge and Valley, we headed out into the desert on our camels. Our party of seven was split into two smaller groups. Our group was led by the very chatty (although his English was pretty average, so it took us a long time to get any proper answers out of him) Mohammed. I was last in line, riding the very temperamental Gary (no, that's not an Arabic name, I just decided he looked like a Gary). Gary was far more interested in trying to bite Tucky's feet, or her camel Cat Stevens, than he was in walking in a straight line - not sure why I always manage to attract the 'special' animals. He also thought it was appropriate to sit down mid-trek, causing me to to nearly fall off and the others to all stop as we were tied together. The word 'Gary' soon became synonymous with anything bad, as demonstrated by Emma (another girl on the tour), who commented at breakfast the next day, 'Yuck, that olive tasted like Gary!'

Following our arrival at the campsite we spent the evening watching the sunset, playing soccer and snowboarding down the dunes. After dinner back at the campsite and a music session around the fire, including some very impressive camel dancing, things started to get a bit interesting. Mohammed, our camel leader, asked me to come and get some more firewood with him. I agreed, thinking him perfectly harmless. He quickly made his move, seizing my hand and leading me out into the desert, where he proceeded to take a blanket off one of the camels and lay it out on the sand, saying we should look at the stars together. At this point I suggested that it would be a much better idea if we just got the wood and went back to camp. He then proceeded to tell me (in English that was nowhere near as bad as he'd pretended earlier), that:

- 'I think we should be more than just friends.'
- 'We should be sentimental.'
- 'We should make one souvenir.'
- 'We should have one relation.'

What made it even funnier was that I later learnt he'd tried the same thing on Emma half an hour before. She was quick enough to tell him she had a husband, though, and he left her alone. You'd think I'd remember by now to always say that... Clearly a bit slow, maybe that's why I got Gary! Oh well, it made for a good story and plenty of 'souvenir' jokes over the next few days.

The final day involved an early start and another camel ride out of the desert, watching the sunrise on the way, followed by a long drive back to Marrakech. We had a very amusing driver throughout the tour and a really good guide named Farid. Farid called me 'Fatima,' because it's his favourite Moroccan name and he clearly liked it better than my real one. He alternated between saying two things to me. If I was being too quiet for his liking it was, 'Where is Fatima? Fatima is thinking.' Or if he was in a good mood it was, 'Where is Fatima? Fatima, life is good.'

Our last stop in Morocco was at the beach, in Essaouira. It's a beautiful coastal town with lots of fishing action and many of the winding alleys and busy streets which are typical throughout Morocco. We had a fantastic couple of days relaxing there, with only one unpleasant incident. On our first night in Essaouira we were walking down the street when two guys approached us and started having a chat. They invited us out with with them later. We asked them where we should meeet them if we wanted to go (with the intention of meeting them if we thought they were alright or avoiding them if we decided they were a bit dodgy). So they showed us a place to meet them and we headed off for dinner. Over dinner - pizza, because we were getting slightly sick of cous cous - we decided we wouldn't meet them. Unfortunately they intercepted us on the way home and proceeded to get stuck into us because we wouldn't go out with them. 'F**king whores!' was probably the nicest insult we received as they proceeded to follow us all the way home. When I'd eventually had enough of being insulted, I turned round and told them that was enough and they could stop following us. 'It's not following,' one of them said, as they continued to walk directly behind us and hurl abuse. To make it even more interesting there was another guy walking along beside us, who we thought was a little bit crazy, based on the fact that he was fairly drunk and dishevelled. It turned out that he was talking the most sense though and that he was trying to warn us not to go anywhere with these guys as they are only interested in sleeping with as many tourists as possible. Interesting night! Despite that incident we had a fantastic time in Essaouira and Morocco as a whole.

Anyway, that's about it from me for a while. Back home for now. Went back to uni today - was a bit of a shock to the system after three years off!

Over and out,

B xo

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Photos

Our market friends
They're now calling any Australian man they meet John Farnham