Marrakesh: Mosques and Medinas

I had a terrible night; I finally got to sleep after hours of tossing and turning, and then was woken in the early hours by a terrible pain in my gut. A strange succession of cramps was slowly expelling something from my system, and I had a terrible twenty minutes. I knew they’d be one night I’d find myself spread out on the tiles – let’s hope it’s the last.

In the morning I was OK, and very relieved, and we had a lovely breakfast alone in the little courtyard. There doesn’t appear to be any other guests.

Then we girded our somewhat battered and exhausted loins, so to speak – Carol is still coughing and sniffing – and left the road for the streets of the medina.

The Marrakesh medina is very, very different from Fez, as most of the streets are actually normal streets and you are continually dodging motorcycles, donkeys and cars (as if the endless stream of human traffic wasn’t enough to deal with). Thankfully however it’s easier to navigate, and I got us to our next destination without any problems.

Hidden away behind a mosque, a 10 Dh fee and a high, narrow, winding passage, the Saadian tombs were built at the start of the 1600s by Sultan Ahmed el-Mansour ed-Dahbi for himself, his mother, various princes and some 170 chancellors and wives. The large courts were walled up by old Moulay Ismail, but rediscovered in 1917. Now it’s a tourist group stop and was more packed with them than any place we’ve visited in Morocco – we even had to join a queue for a glimpse of the Sultan’s ornate tomb. I suppose we look just the same to the average local, but what a ridiculous, brainless fish out of water the average tourist looks like. They waddle about in their inappropriate clothes clutching huge cameras, looking at everything and seeing nothing.

Still, we waited in line and took our pictures like everyone else!

Leaving the tombs, we walked a few streets to the nearby El Badi Palace, a huge courtyard surrounded by crumbling ramparts, originally built in the 16th century. Very little remains – Moulay Ismail did some looting, of course – but we enjoyed the scale of it, and wandered through some atmospheric underground passages and up to a terrace from where there was a spectacular view of he compound and the rooftops of Marrakesh.

Back along shop-lined alleys to the Jemaa el-Fnaa, and to a cramped little ‘cyber cafe’ to book our flight back to London the day after tomorrow. We debated long and hard over whether to spend more time here, perhaps finally heading over the Atlas Mountains to the desert, but frankly we’re both worn out and tired and feel like we’ve had enough of Morocco. We still have a couple of weeks left of our holiday and don’t want to return to work as shattered husks, so we’re going to spend some leisurely time seeing a bit of England together.

Oh yes, before booking the tickets we had lunch in an over-priced restaurant called Dar Tim Tam, eating Moroccan salad, bread and re-heated briouats (filled pastry). We’re both pretty fed up with Moroccan food, too!

Back at our room at Riad Magi we relaxed for a couple of hours, reading (and in my case, catching up in this diary). It’s a lovely, peaceful room that seems very far away from the cacophony out there.

About 5.30pm we re-emerged and returned to the internet cafe – a crowded, hot, tiny room upstairs off the Jemaa el-Fnaa – to complete some details for our flight booking. Then we strolled further down a busy arcade and up a side alley to a cafe/bookstore of sorts, to sit upstairs on an enclosed terrace for mint tea.

It’s been quite difficult choosing places to eat as we’re so sick of the Moroccan stand-bys. After a wander around the square we settled on Cafe Argana – a bit sterile and touristy, but locals were there too and the upper terrace had a fantastic view of the Jemaa el-Fnaa. The meal was pretty crappy though.

(Note: less than 2 years later a terrorist bomb wrecked this cafe, killing 15 people.)

Strolled back to our room through the buzzing square. To think, every night for hundreds of years it has been like this…