Mosque to Mosque

There are maps of Marrakesh but beyond the lovely wide boulevards that the French colonialists laid out for themselves in the early 20th century in the ville nouveau, they are useless is the narrow, labyrinthine alleyways of the medina.  And as we are staying in the medina, and this is also where most of the sights are, we are constantly lost.  Our beacons are the mosques.  Tom strategically plots out the route each time we venture out, using the mosques as a guide.  When we get lost coming home we keep a lookout for the tall minaret of 'our mosque', the one nearest our riad, and we head that way.

Our local Mosque

Last night we headed toward the very elegantly tiled Koutoubia mosque minaret, which marked the way to our destination, the lively Jemma El Fna square.  And lively it was.  Hordes of people with impromptu musical bands playing Arabic music.  Just an aside about music in Europe - Gotye's Somebody That I Used To Know is everywhere and we saw an advertisement in the Paris metro for an upcoming tour by The Cat Empire. The most fascinating thing about Jemma El Fna square is the pop-up restaurants.  There are no restaurants in the square during the day.  At night they wheel in tables, chairs and kitchens and set up restaurants offering full menus and full service - and there are dozens of them.  All with eager touts trying to drag you into their establishment, so walking through to get to the souks is like trying to navigate down Lygon St.

The Medina

Tagines

Eating here has been a delight, and incredibly healthy, helped along by the limited amount of alcohol we have consumed.  Big hotels serve alcohol, but for most meals we have eaten in cafes and restaurant that only serve soft drinks and juices.  The variety of juices available is enticing and it is all freshly squeezed - I enjoyed a street stall grapefruit juice today. I order it when I can, just because I love to use the engagingly charming French word for grapefruit - pamplemouse.

The tagines have been the standout attraction, either chicken, lamb, veal of beef, but never pork of course, and often cooked with an appetising assortment of fruits - prunes, figs, peaches, citrus - and nuts.  

The souks

How hard could it be ?  I have been to the Stanley markets in Hong Kong, the markets in Cairo, the fish market in Split - the David Jones Boxing Day sales !  Hey, we lived in India for two years, and our travelling companions have also spent time in Bombay, with Jan being a regular visitor to the Chor Bazaar in Bombay.  But the Marrakech souks are not for the feint hearted.  This tangled confusion of the narrowest alleys bursting with stock (all the best quality madam) was made all the more chaotic by the inability to stop and look for the merest fraction of a second before being bombarded with offers to look, touch, try.  As someone who barely tolerates a slightly pushy sales attendant in the calm of a Melbourne boutique store, the souk for me was a place to be visited quickly, marked off the bucket list and exited.  

Your intrepid correspondent in the souk

Shopping nirvana was found for us just outside the souks in the street stalls and craft shops.  However this is still an area that requires bargaining, a skill I have never mastered.  I am like Brian buying the gord in the Monty Python film of the same name - I would happily pay the first asking price and still feel I had acquired a bargain.  I spied some little bowls I liked and was ready to part with the 50 Dirham asking price for one until my shocked companion David pulled me up and negotiated away on my behalf and I ended up with two bowls for 60 Dirhams. David's job for the rest of the day was to be my designated negotiator.  

Tomorrow we leave Marrakech for Barcelona, and I am the happy owner of three new handbags !  Oh, and two 50 Dirham bowls!