Marrakech

Magic in the desert

13.03.2007 - 20.03.2007 -17 °C

Trip Diary – Marrakech March 2007

Founded in the 11th century by the Almoravid Sultan, Youssef Ibn Tachfine, Marrakech became the capital of the Kingdom, giving its name to Morocco as a whole and was embellished by many fine buildings before taking on a rather more secondary role under the Alaouites.
Known as "the Red City," or again, "Pearl of the South," Marrakesh is a fascinating city, bewitching visitors with its contrasting colours - the ochre sandstone of its buildings, the green of its countless palm trees and the white of the snow-capped Atlas mountains - as well as its remarkable monuments and immense gardens. Berbers and Arabs mingle there, nomads and mountain folk converge there and a wealth of products and handicrafts is on offer there – to say nothing of the palaces, casinos, hotels and golf courses, which all go to make any visit an unforgettable experience. Marrakech is indeed true capital of the Moroccan South!

Summary

Positive

Delightful climate and far greener than I expected with several beautiful gardens. It is a great city for walking .. a whole week without a fall or tumble.

Food is food and cheap.

Delightful contrast between the exotic crowded souks of the Medina and the open boulevards of the new French part of the city.

Negative

No beer. Although you can buy beer in supermarkets, there are no bars and beer or wine is not available in most cafes. The only places selling alcohol are expensive hotels and I don’t find them appealing places.

Noise from mosques in early morning is an annoyance but I was getting used to it by the end of my stay.

…………….

My Easyjet flight was at 7:25 am so I spent the night at Gatwick Travel Lodge. I was able to check my bag the night before the flight and get an extra hour's sleep. Well, I didn't sleep, but got the extra hour and no hassle. The hassle started with the taxi drivers in Marrakech. True to form the 'good price' offered turned out to be three the going rate of 60 dirhams. I objected and another driver offered to take me for 100 rather than 180 and when I accepted, the first driver grabbed my bags and said he would settle for 100 (I suspect they are in collusion). Once on the road he demanded another 20 dirhams for the baggage and I started getting really angry. I was furious but then decided that this was a bad way to start my holiday and decided it was no good getting so upset over 1 Pound.

Things did not look good when the Hotel Islane denied all knowledge of my week long booking ( I had booked through Expedia ). There was a room available except for Sunday when I would have to move to another hotel a night (the receptionist said he would arrange this).

I dumped my bags and set off into the streets, without benefit of a map. Sticking at first to the broad streets I found them fascinating and interesting enough but I finally took the plunge into the souks and was soon wandering through twisting and turning lanes filled with small workshops, crowded with people, donkey carts, motorcycles and cyclists. Although it was similar to souks I had visited in Egypt and Iran, that was over 20 years ago and I was really getting a dose of culture shock.

These narrow lanes are so colourful and exotic that it is hard to believe that they are authentic ; it felt like a stage set. At one point I expected someone to shout 'Where the hell do you think you are going? Can't you see that we are filming here?'

The cast of characters is almost indescribable - old men wearing cloaks with peak hoods looking all the world like KKK members; youngsters in denim who would not look out of place on Chicago's South Side ; some women wearing face coverings; others looking very smart with uncovered hair, stylish clothes and high heels. And the skin colours .. everything from black to a very faint tan.

I was constantly having to make decisions as to which turning to take. What appeared to be the main route with lots of people would suddenly turn into a cul de sac or at best, a narrow passage into yet another small square. Finally the shops were more tourist oriented and I wandered into the main (and fascinating) Big Square (Jemaa El Fna). After a rest and Coke in a café I got my bearings. My hotel was opposite the tall Koutoubia Mosque which dominates the city; it was in a much more convenient location than I expected when I booked the place.

Back to the hotel which proved to be OK .. hot water, clean, newly refurbished, telly with one channel in French. The only drawback was that there was only one small window, about 5 feet up the wall, so the place was a bit claustrophobic. This seems to be common in buildings here except the luxury places designed with foreigners in mind.

After a stop at the hotel I set off in the other direction toward the new city built by the French in 1912 ; whether the French did this through enlightenment or simply because the Medina was too decayed and complicated, it had a positive outcome. The Medina stayed intact within the city walls and is now a huge place unmarred (for the most part) by modern buildings. The new city has broad boulevards and modern buildings, cafes and restaurants and some very smart people.

The 4:30 am call to prayers from the nearby Koutoubia Mosque is loud - - very loud. I was annoyed when I went past there later (and on subsequent visits) to find that the place is all locked up. I suspect that the imam is asleep in the suburbs when this tape goes off at 5:30. It is odd that there are so few signs of life at this mosque, said to be one of the largest in Africa, holding 20,000 people. I only saw activity there once ... on Friday and there were no more than a few hundred people. The mosque in Whitechapel (at the bottom of my road in London) does more business than that any day of the week and is packed on Fridays.

The garden adjacent to the mosque is more impressive than I thought at first glance. There is also an adjacent section called Cyber Parc which is sponsored by the telecoms industry (Siemens, Sony, Philips, etc); It has been there a long time because it has well established trees, but the walkways and flower plantings are new and the whole place very pleasing:

My walk took me past the Court of Appeal ; here was an almost universal scene : small groups of smug lawyers and worried clients in conference. The lawyers stride around like lions .. just as they do in London or Chicago ; the clients look fraught – they are paying the bill.

Dinner was good and cheap at a cafe overlooking the Big Square. Tagine is a local speciality (and also the name of the pot in which it is served) .. this was chicken flavoured with lemon and olives topped with vegetables and stewed (sometimes described as a casserole).Salad, Tagine, small pastry and mint tea for 45 dirhams ($5.40 or £2.75).

Thursday

To Jardin Majorelle jardinmajorelle.com/)

Jacques Majorelle was born in 1886 in Nancy (France). In 1919 he settled in Marrakech to continue his career of painter, where he acquired a ground which was going to become the Majorelle garden. In 1947 he opened his garden's doors to the public. Following a car accident, he returns to France, where he died in 1962. in 1980 Pierre Bergé and Yves Saint Laurent purchase the garden and restore it.
Plants of the five continents are exposed in an enchanting framework. This that was the workshop of Jacques Majorelle, inspiration place and of contemplation. The originality of these places lies in the combination of a luxurious végétation and architectural elements allying sobriété and traditional aesthetic Moroccan. The power of the blue Majorelle participates in the freshness impression and of quiétude.

Lunch at a cafe in the French area of the city. Still no beer or wine on offer but an excellent Salad Nicoise. The whole style of the place and its clientele would not be out of place in France. Smart waiters, chic clientele and with the chairs all facing the street so you can see and be seen.

The main Post Office had a queue system, which meant you had to have a ticket, but as the ticket machine was not working I was stymied. I later used the post office near the Big Square and the clerk was extremely helpful. I mortified him when I started licking the stamps for my postcards ; he insisted that I use the wet sponge meant for that purpose. No doubt he thinks Europeans are barbarians.

The main mosque is really a poor advertisement for Islam. The place is shut up tight and the area around it is being used for kids to play football. The grounds are populated by lay abouts, con artists and beggars who prey on tourists: There is a major archaeological site which had glass conservatory coverings over ancient ruins but the glass is broken (not clear if by accident or vandalism) and the whole area has a forlorn look to it.

A real treat here is birdsong .. in spite of city noise, I hear a lot of bird song, even from the small window in my hotel room .. and the closest tree is a long way off.

Dinner at my hotel proved to be very good. The restaurant is on a terrace (3 floors up) with a great view of the mosque. Grilled chicken and a salad of tomato, cucumber, peppers, and half bottle of water for 85 dirhams. ($10 or £5.20).

Friday

I had (very rare for me) a panic attack about the lack of fire precautions in the hotel ; I was at the back on the 3rd floor ; there was only one exit and I could see no emergency lighting. The main staircase from Reception was often without lights. I am certain that I have stayed in worse places and put it all down to a report of arson in London in the newspaper on the day I left. In any case, I really had to exert self control to keep from running out of the place. Perhaps that is why I did not sleep well. I was awake reading when an 0350 call to prayers came from the Medina in the distance: The chanting sounded live rather than canned (volume + pitch varied) and the phrase Allah u Akbar was clear ... reminded me of the chill that phrase sent through me when I first heard it over 25 years ago in Iran. I think I am quoting my friend Richard when I say this is an alien culture ... holding public prayers in the middle of the night seems odd to me.

Another example of the culture seeming odd is the whole question of haggling. I went to the Menara Gardens on the edge of town (I was underwhelmed .. a grove of olive trees in a grid pattern). A man selling doughnuts approached me and when I asked how much, he answered 15 dirhams (that is $1.60 or nearly £1). Since I paid 3 dirhams for a similar pastry in a smart café, I told him no. A French couple said no when he quoted them 10 dirhams ; he then followed me around for 20 minutes trying to get me to buy one for 5 dirhams. By that time I was angry and the flies swarming over the doughnuts had put me right off, so I finally snapped at him. I am certain that if he just sat there with a small sign announcing 5 dirhams (and had some cover for the doughnuts) he would have sold out. They think they are so clever and we are so stupid.

I took a detour to the ancient City Wall where some repairs are taking place so I could get photographs of the scaffolding which used logs jammed into holes in the wall to which scaffolding was then attached ... very insecure looking. The workers were bemused at my picture taking. It is for my forthcoming book on Scaffolding in the Developing World, to be followed by Building Demolition as art. So far no publisher seems to have found this a good business opportunity

I still have not seen the Atlas Mountains. I’m beginning to think those famous shots of Marrakech with mountains in the distance are a photo montage.. or taken with a telephoto lens which is much more powerful than my eyesight.

There seems to be a lot of aggression here (among men) .. I have seen several fights and there always seems to be someone shouting and making threatening motions. The contrast with Thailand and Laos could not be greater. There it is considered bad form to show your temper - the most common public display of emotion seems to be laughter, often at what seems to Westerners like an inappropriate time:

A couple of kids (say 7 or 8 years old) were tousling in a pedestrian street and when one of them was finally thrown to the ground; a group of 3 or 4 others began to kick him. A French lady (my age) and I objected and the biggest (possibly 14 years old and as tall as the French lady) turned on us and started shouting and threatening. Only then did adult bystanders and shopkeepers intervene and send the whole lot of kids packing: The French lady was upset and one shopkeeper was sympathetic. I didn’t have the feeling that the people did not stop the fight because of fear ( which could be the case in my London neighbourhood) but through indifference:

Karma and going with the flow.

I'd finally found a restaurant (Costa Esmeralda) which serves beer (that is, one which did not charge the earth for food). You never dine alone in a Marrakech restaurant ; I was joined lunch by two cats who keep a respectful distance but had eyes out for all falling crusts. I got back to the hotel around 3 o'clock to a huge uproar. The receptionist said this was the day I had to move out .. not Sunday as I understood it. Panic and annoyance, but they had found a room for me at the nearby Hotel Foucauld. Oddly enough, I had a slip of paper in my guidebook saying 'check out Hotel Foucauld'. I took just a small bag and the family jewels, thinking that I would be coming back to Hotel Islane for the last two nights. The reception area at Hotel Foucauld did not look too promising but the room had a window which opened fully in French style - overlooking the square by the main mosque. My fire phobia about the other hotel was dealt with ; here I could jump to the ground if need be and there was a fire escape to the roof terrace just outside my room. Add the bonus that this room was just a bit more than half the price of the other (210 dirhams $25 or £12.80). I gave the other place notice and moved here. A bit noisier but no worse than at home ..

And it has a plug in the wash basin .. just as well because in my haste to vacate my room I left my portable bath/basin plug and shampoo. Had my late afternoon Pernod up on the terrace viewing the sights ; I like the vibe in this hotel.

Getting down to the wire so I took myself off early to see the Saadian Tombs
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saadian_Tombs

The Saadian tombs in Marrakech date back from the time of the great sultan Ahmad I al-Mansur (1578-1603). The tombs were only recently discovered (in 1917) and were restored by the Beaux-arts service. The tombs have, because of the beauty of their decoration, been a major attraction for visitors of Marrakech.
The mausoleum comprises the corpses of about sixty members of the Saadi Dynasty. The building is composed of three rooms. The most famous is the room with the twelve columns. This room contains the tomb of the son of the sultan's son Ahmed El Mansour. The stele is in finely worked ceder wood and stucco work. The graves are made of marble of Carrara in Italy.
Very impressive restrained architecture but far too many people there for the size of the space and the garden was disappointing. Then tried to visit the gardens of the Royal Palace but it is closed (perhaps he is in residence?) so I had to settle for a long walk through the Kasbah instead. Just as I noticed yesterday, as you get further away from the tourist centre, you get slightly more hassle .. kids and teenagers trying to be your guide and occasionally being bumped into by someone who then appears to take offence. I have lived in cities too long and they got no where with me;, but I did become a bit more alert. On my meandering yesterday I got a bit lost in a development of tenements with some sullen looking people. An older man stopped me and pointed the way out of the area and said 'there is nothing for tourists here' .. a polite way of saying Bugger Off.

I was awakened early this morning by men talking in parking lot below my hotel room .. Not shouting but too loud for 4am. Then the 5am call to prayers .. finally got one more hour of sleep. I must get ear plugs if I plan to stay here again.

Went to Dar Si Said Museum, http://www.marrakeshguide.com/files/dar_si_said_museum.htm
mansion of rich man now housing some collectibles. The building is impressive, not huge but the main reception room on first floor is grand and the decoration of plaster and timber throughout is restrained. I was most interested in the small antique chairs which were once part of a children' small Ferris Wheel, (manually driven from the accompanying drawing). The central garden is very relaxing and has a centrepiece gazebo and fountain.

I then plunged into the Medina in search of the tanneries which Gurnos described from their visit here many years ago. I walked for over 2 hours, got hopelessly lost (twice) and never found them. I was in a very non-touristy area with vegetable markets, butchers, bicycle repair shops, and those mysterious unmarked shops where who knows what is going on.

Even after I came to a landmark which was on my map (tombs of the Almovarids) I walked another 30 minutes not knowing where I was until I came into the Big Square. The Medina here is huge ; I really would hate getting lost in there at night. Somehow during the day I felt that eventually I would reach a city gate. The walls are 8 km in circumference, so I make that an area of 4 square kilometres (that is 1.5 square miles …. or 988 acres if you are from the Midwest).

My last evening was not a happy one ; I learned of the death in London of my good friend Peter Hogget, so my thoughts were about him and his friend Gurnos. I was happy to get on the flight home but shocked when I found cold weather and even sleet and snow on the bus home late that afternoon. Back to reality!