For me one of the best aspects of Moroccan life is the street vendors and shops in general. It's all tiny stores that spill onto the street, or stalls on the street itself. But there are basically no big shops, no supermarkets, no chain stores, nothing bigger than a small bedroom really.
Of course there are McDonalds and stuff in the modern part of town but even there there are not really many large shops as we know them. Which means you would have to go to one man for spices, another for meat, a different lady for fruit, another for potatoes and so on. It's how it should be, because you would live within 5 minutes walk pretty much. Certainly reduces packaging which has got to be a good thing. The areas that have rubbish, and on the whole Morocco is fairly tidy, have plastic bags and bottles piled up or scattered about. Plastic just looks so bad and yucky. Boo!
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| Street in Meknes market area. |
Also there are so many craftspeople working busily away making things, from clothes to shoes to tables. And you can see them working, see things being made right in front of you. I love the cotton winders, usually a two man job (men seem to be the sewers here, at least commercially) where one winds and one holds the spool. Because the cotton is is long though they will loop it through a door handle sometimes 15 metres up the street and run it back again, then start winding, so you have these super long lines of cotton running along the walls that you have it look out for. It's great. I love the honesty of it all, the fact that it requires people to do it, not machines. In saying that they have some pretty funky machinery though, god knows when some of it was made but it was a fair while ago.
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| Winding cotton. |
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| Ubiquitous street cats. |
We are now warmly ensconced in Marrakech. I write "warmly" cos summer has finally kicked in, although I'm sure it helps being on the edge(ish) of the Sahara desert.
Turns out Marrakech is quite a long way from anywhere. It's the end of the train line that runs down the edge of Morocco from Tangiers to Casablanca then heads south - east for a few hours to Marrakech. The only way to get further south is by bus, camel or 4 wheel drive. But then also you get a bit close to dodgy territory so we won't be doing that.
The main focal point of Marrakech is the square / plaza of Djemaa El-Fna. It's surrounded by cafes, food stalls, restaurants with (gratefully utilised) balconies, alleyways, roofs full of satellite dishes and a couple of Mosques. Leading out from the square is the main market area and the Medina which is the old streets area.
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| The square by day. Add a few thousand at night. |
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| The square by night. |
The square has more snake charmers and vendors, but also monkeys, dancing men, horse drawn carts, lots of motorbikes and general mayhem.
Marrakech is not the sort of place where one casually wanders aimlessly, stopping to take photos or gaze at a particularly interesting building, where you feel relaxed and without any pressures. It's more like being pounded by massive surf at Piha or Bells Beach. It's full on.
You are almost constantly called out at to try this restaurant, look at these shoes, be shown directions to somewhere you may or may not wish to go, to buy a bag, to be asked where you are from or even just said hello to. So it's tiring but interesting at the same time. The people are friendly and helpful, and not overly pushy nor intimidating at all (apart from when the carpet guy got a bit worked up), its just that there is no rest. Also it's hard to take pictures because sometimes you are told "no" by people nearby, or you feel you will have to pay for the pleasure which is sort of fair enough but it makes it a bit of a chore rather than a way of recording the amazing things we have seen.
Luckily we get to relax back at our secret base where the noise can't find us...
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| Hows the serenity... |
But in amongst the hustle and bustle are little corners, small oases of tranquility. With dappled shade and soft cushions, or a leafy tree and a wooden seat. Two or three men sitting talking, drinking tea. Quiet areas with lovely colours and a nice feel...
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| Jo and our local guide. |
So yesterday's adventure involved a stroll through the souks (market area) towards the leather tanneries. We weren't actually planning on going in on this particular jaunt but of course a young lad stops us, asks where we are from (ah, kangaroo) and explains which road goes where, and can be help us get anywhere?
Of course we must go to the tannery he insists, he will show us, but look here is his friend who works there and is going there anyway so we should just go with him, no money, we are friends, please. So we tag along with our newly acquired guide to the tannery area, where he drops us off with another chap with instructions to show us around. So the next guy (where you from? Ah, kangaroo, Melbourne or Sydney?) gives us some fresh mint leaves for a gas mask (tanning leather stinks) and shows us around two tanneries, quickly, but god all the same. It's pretty amazing, camel, sheep and dromedary skins in various stages of becoming leather. Kind of yucky (actually really yucky) but very interesting.
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| Not a fun job, seriously. |
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| Hairy and stinky. |
So then our guide shoots us out of the tannery, across the street and into a door.... a shop door selling leather bags and of course, rugs. Ah, we'll done lads, you got us.
But of course we are all friends, we want to show you our rugs because we know you will like them, and you will drink tea and we will sit and relax. Now we've both been here and done this before but once you're in they're good at keeping you in. So we saw some beautiful rugs, and the man was very friendly and funny and we got along well and he knew about the Christchurch earthquake and he showed us addresses of customers from Australia and he was very amiable indeed. And of course it's not important what the rugs cost, let's just see what you like best, just because it is nice to see beautiful things, and Berber people are so friendly and we will be friends no matter what, ok?
Yup.
So of course after a while we have identified a few rugs we like best (and we did like them and they would have looked great at home) but then he started talking prices, and could we please just give him a price too and then we can see? But we really actually didn't want to buy a rug no matter how nice or for whatever price so after a bit he starts getting a bit jumpy and worked up, so Jo says she is leaving and she does and he says ok Paul, we take your price but then I leave too before the door gets closed properly and then our tannery guide comes after us asking if everything is okay and could he have some money for showing us around so I give him some money and we dart off into the winding back streets before anyone else can follow us.
So it got a bit more exciting than we had planned. But we rewarded ourselves with our first beers for three or four days at an upstairs bar that was a total rip off despite being two for one, being served by young men wearing fez hats and having no idea what they were doing.
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| Drinks o'clock. |
And as for rocking the Kasbah, well below is a picture of the big gate that leads to the aforementioned area. We didn't so much rock it as wander in and looked at the storks nesting on top of the walls. Not very rocking at all really, but I don't think there is a song that goes "strollin' the Kasbah", is there?
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| The Clash were here. |
I forgot to mention the smells here. One minute you are getting wafts of mint, or cumin or some other spice, the next diesel or stinky fish or open sewer, then delicious grilled meat smells and coffee roasting, then back to rubbish and fetidness. It's quite a roller coaster for the olfactory glands.
And that's about it for now. Hopefully we'll mange to get a few decent pictures of the snakes being charmed tomorrow (anyone know how they do that by the way?), and a few more that better capture the combination of chaos and calm.
