The curious incident of the donkey in the medina
Last Friday I left the laid-back calm of Essauoira behind and threw myself smack bang into the crazy of Marrakech. Finally, the excitement - I have *always* wanted to go there, and wasn't disappointed. Within days I'd done the palaces (both the up-market Bahia and the only-an-archaeologist would love it Badi), the Saadian tombs, some Museums, and upteen laps of the souks as I gave up on trying to find my way around and just bimbled.
Still haven't bought anything, but that's mostly cos I don't want to carry it round with me. However, now that the Morocco time is coming to an end, it's time to consider shopping. But what amused me was the hawkers in the Djemaa al Fna, with their toy camels, knock off lanterns, Christmas tree decorations in the shape of pastel hand grenades (I shit ye not) and kiddy train sets - the big train is an American GI in a tank, chasing the little train - Osama in a 4x4. I love the gallows humour of this place as much as the endless shinies; grannies on mobility scooters, their robes and full-face veils flapping, racing horse-drawn caleches and taxis up the street, teenagers on the pull outside the mosque of a night, turning a corner in the European ville nouvelle to find a guy praying on the sidewalk...it's full of contradictions and totally in-your-face.
Once the city started to wear, I day-tripped out to the Atlas foothills and the village of Setti Fatma, climbed up a waterfall, and promptly fell in on the way back down. But it was nice to get out into the country and get chatting to some other travellers, as for the most part it was just me alone in the Riad - the benefit, or downside, of travelling in off-season. Lack of company, however, meant that I got accosted by a henna tatooist in the square, drawn on over my protest, and charged 4 times the going rate. On the advice of the lady who ran my hostel, I went back the next day, threatened her with the tourist police, and got 100DH back and the other hand done for free - not what you'd call a great victory, but a moral one, and the development of my negotiation skills meant that I felt I'd gotten one up on Morocco for once.
Niamh arrived on Thursday and there was much squeeing of 'Dude, we're in Africa'; we doned a bottle of wine on Thursday night which hit my now-dry stomach like a brick and gave me an unexpected hangover - back home I can sink three times that and still be good, but I'm getting more used to life without alchohol than I was life with it (mint tea and avocado smoothie have become unexpectedly acceptable alternatives).
Yesterday was spent in its entirety on a bus to Fez - never again. We got here after dark, got ripped off for a taxi from the bus station but were too tired to complain, trolled round several hotels till we found once that, while it lacked more than a communal wc by way of facilities, at leqst didn't look like somewhere you'd bring hookers back to, and vacated this morning for a nicer place round the corner. Stuck in the 80s it may be, but it has an ensuite and a room that doesn't face the main road - happy days :)
While we waited to check in, we trolled up to the Medina and took in the Museums - gorgeous ethnological museum in the old Batha palace, and a wonderfully restored woodworking museum in the centre of town. While there I was accosted by a donkey-train, and another shirt bit the dust as whatever they were porting to the tanneries left it's mark all over my white tunic. Bah. Looks like I'll be going shopping in India for clothes with hide-the-dirt colours.
More sad news came in last night from home with the word that our dog had died; not unexpected as she had alreqdy lasted nearly 2 Christmases beyond her inital cancer-prognosis, but still, a sleepless night for me. All in all, things are combining to make me less impressed with Fez than anywhere I've been yet, but perhaps that's just Morocco-fatigue after nearly 3 weeks here. We succumbed to temptation this afternoon with a super-size Maccy D's in the ville novelle, so things look brighter now ;)
Still haven't bought anything, but that's mostly cos I don't want to carry it round with me. However, now that the Morocco time is coming to an end, it's time to consider shopping. But what amused me was the hawkers in the Djemaa al Fna, with their toy camels, knock off lanterns, Christmas tree decorations in the shape of pastel hand grenades (I shit ye not) and kiddy train sets - the big train is an American GI in a tank, chasing the little train - Osama in a 4x4. I love the gallows humour of this place as much as the endless shinies; grannies on mobility scooters, their robes and full-face veils flapping, racing horse-drawn caleches and taxis up the street, teenagers on the pull outside the mosque of a night, turning a corner in the European ville nouvelle to find a guy praying on the sidewalk...it's full of contradictions and totally in-your-face.
Once the city started to wear, I day-tripped out to the Atlas foothills and the village of Setti Fatma, climbed up a waterfall, and promptly fell in on the way back down. But it was nice to get out into the country and get chatting to some other travellers, as for the most part it was just me alone in the Riad - the benefit, or downside, of travelling in off-season. Lack of company, however, meant that I got accosted by a henna tatooist in the square, drawn on over my protest, and charged 4 times the going rate. On the advice of the lady who ran my hostel, I went back the next day, threatened her with the tourist police, and got 100DH back and the other hand done for free - not what you'd call a great victory, but a moral one, and the development of my negotiation skills meant that I felt I'd gotten one up on Morocco for once.
Niamh arrived on Thursday and there was much squeeing of 'Dude, we're in Africa'; we doned a bottle of wine on Thursday night which hit my now-dry stomach like a brick and gave me an unexpected hangover - back home I can sink three times that and still be good, but I'm getting more used to life without alchohol than I was life with it (mint tea and avocado smoothie have become unexpectedly acceptable alternatives).
Yesterday was spent in its entirety on a bus to Fez - never again. We got here after dark, got ripped off for a taxi from the bus station but were too tired to complain, trolled round several hotels till we found once that, while it lacked more than a communal wc by way of facilities, at leqst didn't look like somewhere you'd bring hookers back to, and vacated this morning for a nicer place round the corner. Stuck in the 80s it may be, but it has an ensuite and a room that doesn't face the main road - happy days :)
While we waited to check in, we trolled up to the Medina and took in the Museums - gorgeous ethnological museum in the old Batha palace, and a wonderfully restored woodworking museum in the centre of town. While there I was accosted by a donkey-train, and another shirt bit the dust as whatever they were porting to the tanneries left it's mark all over my white tunic. Bah. Looks like I'll be going shopping in India for clothes with hide-the-dirt colours.
More sad news came in last night from home with the word that our dog had died; not unexpected as she had alreqdy lasted nearly 2 Christmases beyond her inital cancer-prognosis, but still, a sleepless night for me. All in all, things are combining to make me less impressed with Fez than anywhere I've been yet, but perhaps that's just Morocco-fatigue after nearly 3 weeks here. We succumbed to temptation this afternoon with a super-size Maccy D's in the ville novelle, so things look brighter now ;)