Marrakech

So much beautiful mosaic work, La Mamounia
The first time I saw a real desert, the Negev in Israel, I was surprised and charmed to see the the colors of the sky and sand as washed out colors that faded from one to the other, rather than those I'd likely seen in National Geographic, that dark reddish sand and saturated blue sky. You would have thought some part of me would remember that, but not the case, I realized flying in, with the snow covered Atlas Mountains to the southeast and the low slung buildings the same color of the terrain, more red than the Negev, but still with a dusty, faded feel.

I had read enough about the hustlers that I anticipated the journey from airport to Medina to be a struggle of one sort or another, but everything was well-organized and pre-negotiated by a woman in a booth, who seemed to have oversight, assigning taxis to travelers. As I’ve mentioned before, I was not one to shy away from the dance with death near Logan Airport, where six lanes used to converge into three, I could get right in there with the best of them in order to speed up my journey and begin weaving in and out of cars on Storrow Drive 7 ½ seconds earlier. But this cabbie in Marrakech, he was on curbs, swerving so close to people on motorcycles, pulling up into a scrum of cars that clearly had nowhere to go and leaning on his horn. I have no idea if he got me there earlier than normal. On the way, I saw a much better decorated cell phone tower than the faux pine tree on route 2.

Cell phone tower

I stayed in a riad, a place where people live that has a center inside/outside courtyard with a fountain and a tree and then rooms circling the courtyard on two floors. Contrary to the houses built in the Jewish quarter that have balconies, there’s only one way in and minimal or no windows in a riad, ensuring the privacy that Muslim women are expected to maintain. But the courtyards are light and peaceful. I learned about the double doors some riads have, one inside the other. The one closest to the frame is used for weddings and funerals, the only time other men would ever be let in to the house. The smaller one has a different knock sound, and is used by the husband, allowing his wife to not have to cover up.

Door handle on my room

View from my room into the courtyard

Riad at the Culinary Museum, abutting the chaos of the souks, but so peaceful

Double door
Oumayma met me at the door, she’s 28, has the most natural smile and is covering for Carole, who owns the riad but is in France. She took my suitcase and moved it into the courtyard, then invited to me in French to sit. Two minutes later, she brought out a tray with some mint tea that she elaborately poured from a height to make the bubbles on top, and a some pastries. I took a sip of tea, and could feel my teeth beginning to rot there was so much sugar in it, but when she wasn’t looking, gulped it down, so appreciative of her welcoming gesture. She gave me a tour, ending on the roof, where there is a sun deck that looks out over the neighborhood on one side, a palace on the other. She offered to cook me dinner, which I happily accepted, and then I watched her carefully fold her hijab and put it on her head, and leave to buy provisions, which I hadn’t realized she’d need to do, but said she was happy to.  An hour later, I was enjoying a perfectly dressed salad (and I’m a drama queen about that), some sauteed very young courgette with parsley and cumin and a sort of casserolish thing that contained cauliflower, potato and a cheesy sauce. Deelish. For breakfast she made us different Moroccan breads every morning.

As I’d gone to bed early, I set out to do some wandering and hopefully catch some early morning light, ending up at the Saadi Tombs, which are around the corner from the riad. For some reason my phone is not able to automatically switch time zones and I forgot, so got there 15 minutes before it opened.  Standing there were two Chinese women, one with a NY Yankees hat. In France, I have come to laugh at the way Yankee hats are on trend, though they look nothing like the real ones, so to engage the woman who spoke English, asked her who her favorite Yankee player was. Putting me firmly in my place without realizing it, she answered enthusiastically, of course no one I’d ever heard of. She then asked me if I followed Messi’s career in the US. Who knew? It was a blessing to get there right when the tombs, which appear more like a well manicured garden with some rooms that are covered in mosaics, opened, as one could feel the silence and passage the time. In there, the first but by no means last waft of orange blossom went by, so intoxicating. It will surely remain for a long time, a smell that brings back these few days as it proved everywhere.

Entry to Saadi Tombs

It was so peaceful, Saadi Tombs

I believe this was the father's tomb

Loved these stepped on too many times tiles, Saadi Tombs

Many layers, inside and out, Saadi Tombs

As I mentioned in my last post, Manu from Berlin, my guardian angel, introduced me to two women who live in Marrakech. On that first morning, I met up with Deana, originally English, who has been there 9 years and owns a house in the Medina, the only one standing in her area as she had begun renovations before the 2023 earthquake, which is still greatly in evidence. She showed me around the main alleyways of the souks, bringing me to what I lovingly call Snake Square (Cobra snake charmers), really Jeema el-Fnaa which is a vast open space that has a history of being the gateway to the Sahara. And you can feel that spirit, with snakes, monkeys wearing diapers, sunglass sellers, henna doers, braiders, juice makers all doing their thing while men sleep in carts, donkeys wait and motorcycles and cars tear through bands of tourists at withering speeds.. We had lunch there, chatting about what it’s like to move from the east of England to the desert. She advised me to, if I was going to buy something, offer ⅔ less than asking, but be willing to go up a bit. Most importantly, she introduced me to the fried sardine and aubergine sandwich that became my go to meal, packed in a piece of bread similar to those those made in the public ovens. They were indescribably delicious, especially when paired with spicy chopped olives. 

Common sight, post hurrican

Kasbah being repaired

This one breaks my heart because you can see lives that were taken away

I was told this would be coming down

Snake Square, or Jemaa el-Fnaa

Jemaa el-Fnaa, a little bit of everything

Taking a break, Jemaa el-Fnaa

No Parking, Jemaa el-Fnaa

Meal of choice

If you change your mind after saying no, you'll likely have another opportunity 37 seconds later

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In the late afternoon, I wandered around alone, taking all the beauty and handcrafts in, bobbing and weaving between various forms of transportation that seemed to get more urgent, and shave closer to me, as the day wore on, likely because it was Ramadan and people were getting hungry and impatient. It was confusing to me that so many could work serving food while not eating, and I did notice a certain listlessness at the souks that I hadn’t anticipated, perhaps due to hunger.

General souk vibe

Outside the main area, where you can see the sky

The areas of specialty seem to be somewhat separate, this was leather

Rose buds are everywhere

Holly asked me if I was going to buy a rug and I sent her this photograph. This is only one vendor, and it's not all their rugs. So overwhelming

Dye for sale

Loved the shapes of the top ones enough to ask what they were. Berber toothbrushes

Cheerful outdoor market down an alley near my place

Have I got a shoe for you

Lots of hanging eucalyptus

It boggles the mind to think about how long this took to set up, and how much is invested in all this inventory

Loved this cafe kitchen. The owner was proud to have me take the photograph.

It’s hard to exaggerate the, well I don’t want to call it an assault, because it’s all good, but yes, the assault on all one’s senses experienced in the Medina. There is something going on everywhere, and it’s all new and there’s so much looking to be done while processing at the same time. I saw many beautiful things that I intended to revisit and maybe buy, but when I’d get home in the evening, I’d be so exhausted that it was a struggle to stay up until 9pm. The next morning, after sleeping like the dead, the day prior would be like an abstract painting in my head, one that seemed too complicated to revisit.

The advantage of the early bed time was  that it was easy to be the first one at an otherwise crowded attraction, and so the following day, I stood in line for the not-so-Secret Garden and was moved by the serenity and beauty of the two gardens, one with international flora, the other local. I got a sense of extremes in Morocco, and this is a good example, outside is the colorful, loud, smelly, crowded and chaotic souk, but behind the wall is this incredible sense of peace. After walking around, I sat there for an hour or so, soaking up some sun and some serenity.

Native garden

I think I know where Dale Chihuly got his idea for the MFA Boston sculpture. This plant hailed from Texas

I love so much this combination of colors and textures, took my breath away

This connotes the peace you could feel

I had agreed to meet Ana, a Brazilian professional photographer who had been in Marrakech for two years, at an orange blossom festival at a park nearby. She had come the day prior but not been able to take photographs because there had been many people. In another calm environment, a cooperative of women who make various products out of orange blossom had set up tables with products, a stage area, as an area where they demonstrated making orange blossom water with their copper equipment. Ana was interested in photographing the cooperative wherever they usually worked, so we got to talking to a woman who was volunteering with the cooperative who spoke French, English, Berber and a little Spanish.  She and the other women were lovely, and while we didn't share a language with most of them, they communicated a benevolence towards us that felt like a warm wash of sunshine. Unfortunately for them, Ramadan had coincided with the blossoming of oranges, so we were some of the only customers, sampling the tea, which was lovely.

The orange blossom cooperative, volunteer who we spoke through on the far left

Collecting the orange blossoms

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The orange blossom "still"

Tea time

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Such a beautiful park, orange blossom festival

Ana and me at Snake Square

Ana Flavia (the link function on this server isn't working, so can't provide you with one to her instagram account but definitely look her up as her photographs are amazing) and I spent most of the day chatting, finding much in common and forging a lovely connection. It’s funny how you can be with someone from another world and before you know it, you have one that is shared. In her two years in Morocco, she has spent much of it exploring, both in Marrakech but also in the more remote parts of the country, meeting people and photographing them. In Marrakech, she took me down alleys I’d never have known about, showing me among other things: the oldest building, the best restaurant, the public ovens, an old-fashioned Moroccan restaurant that hadn’t been renovated, a roof deck looking out with bougainvillea hanging everywhere, and a riad in the center of all the chaos that was as peaceful as being in the woods 

Half way through our chattathon

A guy who invited us to watch and photograph him making bread in the public oven

Restaurant in the oldest building

Bougainvillea bonanza on a riad rooftop

Old school restaurant

The rest of my stay was filled with roaming in various places and meeting up, once again with Ana. She got me to leave the Medina and go to the European quarter, where we had an indulgent lunch under an olive tree, with the sound of a fountain, surrounded by multi-colored bougainvillea and a couple of peacocks who exercised their pageantry. I was able to look through Ana’s photo book of Morocco, which only inspired me to want to go to other parts of the country. She talked about the kindness and curiosity of the people she met and her desire to go back. 

Old building near our restaurant, European quarter

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Indulgent lunch

By chance, a woman I don’t know well but have always thought seemed interesting, arrived in Morocco the day prior to my departure, inviting me to visit her at La Mamounia, which was a treat. It is deliciously luxurious in every sense of the word, and again, incredibly serene off one of the busiest streets into Snake Square.

With Janet at La Mamounia

Crisp lines at La Mamounia. And a cat for contrast

There was an incredible kitchen garden, these are cardoons, which I saw everywhere