Monday, first day: Zip!
After my rough arrival night, out in the cold, I was freezing and miserable, with a very sore throat, stuffy head, and just shivering. When I was given access to a room and bunk that afternoon, I settled in under the covers and wrote off the day. It wasn’t possible to sleep, with all the conversations just outside the room and people coming and going, but I rested. In the evening I wandered around the hostel briefly, but there were smokers in every angle of the terraces, the family running the place had the living room outside my dorm room, and it was all so, so cold, I went back to bed. A hibernating bear.
Tuesday, second day, first outing
My first time venturing out, I counted my steps from the hostel door (Amour d’Auberge – but I’m not feeling the love – 74 euros for 7 nights in a female dorm) to the entrance to this blind alley – just to know (35) – and then from that point along the passage to the main square (132) so that I could find my way back. What I’m calling a passage shows up like a street on Google maps, Rue Riad Zitoun el Kdim, but no car can enter because it’s too narrow, and there are walls on each side. There are shops and food stands one after the other all the way along, and little blind alleys off either side at frequent intervals. Bicycles, scooters, mopeds and motorcycles will fly by, often recklessly, because this so-called rue is a straight throughway from the central square, Jemaa el Fna, to the square by Badi Palace. From Jemaa el Fna, you can enter into the maze of passageways of the Medina. Just south and west of Badi Palace, you enter the Kasbah district. So, this is quite a central location, and there’s a lot of traffic though hardly any room to pass through. Walking as close to a wall as possible is crucial. One cyclist ran over the edge of my foot even though I was no more in the middle than the people ahead of me. I was shaken and angry, and couldn’t stop thinking what shape and situation I’d be in if he’d been even an inch more to the right. Unsettled me for quite a while and stays in my mind.
I wasn’t feeling well after my terribly cold arrival night; on the plane’s landing, my ears had gotten stopped up, and my head was still congested, so I wasn’t feeling ambitious about exploring. I just wanted to get a quick orientation, have a bit of a look around the immediate area, and find something light to eat. Jemaa el Fna is a very large square, with a lot going on inside it, and what seem to be countless alleyways and small streets leading off it. Just circling the square is quite a tour. There are snake charmers seated here and there as well as men standing wrapped with snakes or holding them, men with leashed monkeys on or near them, performers of various types, aquarium-type boxes with little turtles. Most of the center of the square is filled with one booth after another of fresh fruit stalls, identical or nearly so, selling freshly squeezed juice. In the evening, these are pretty much cleared away and small food booths are set up. Motorcycles, horse-drawn carriages, scooters, vendors’ trucks, and wheeled carts zip around in all directions, all the time, so one must be very attentive – and of course, watch one’s step.
I went into the post office on the square, which I’d noted from the airport taxi on my way to the hostel. I wanted to buy stamps for eventual postcards, and was sure that this would be the easiest place to get some change from the larger bills issued by the ATM. Mission accomplished.
I toured the square and looked at the restaurants that line its perimeter. I decided to check the side streets to get away from some of the hubbub, and finally chose a restaurant with an upstairs terrace. There are many such. I sat by the railing, had a view, was away from street odors and smokers. The 7-vegetable couscous I ordered was very bland. I couldn’t even finish it, not interesting enough, but that was my meal for the day: about US$5 for the couscous, $2.50 for a lemon-ginger juice (served with a small bottle of water, for diluting it), and about a dollar tip, for $8.50 total.
After a bit more wandering around the stalls and just the first couple of blocks of streets opening off the square, I headed back to the hostel. Short outing of just a few hours, but all I was up for. I counted my steps back to the hostel and was glad I’d made that mental note on the way out, because it was visually confusing and I wouldn’t have managed to pick out my alley otherwise. Brr, back to the cold hostel and later, an early night.
Wednesday, third day in Marrakech, second day out
The weather was a little better, and I was ready to explore, so today I was going to cross the square and explore the maze of souks. As I headed up the “rue” to the square, I decided to stop at one of the little restaurants where tourists were eating and indicating they liked the food. I ordered a vegetable soup and chicken pastilla. The vegetable soup was nearly tasteless. The pastilla was a shock. I once had an exquisite “pigeon” pastilla in a Houston restaurant (long gone) that was delicate, moist, savory aside from the raisins inside and the merest dusting of powdered sugar and cinnamon on top. It had poultry, almonds, egg, possibly shallots, a thin and crisp pastry wrap, and was impossibly light. That memory would have me in search of its equal … Oh maybe not. This pastilla was small, heavy, tough, dry, and like baklava with some dried chicken layered in. Horribly heavy and sweet. I don’t think I will dare try a pastilla here again. US$6.50 with tip, my meal for the day – not much, but an appetite killer. On my way.
I wanted to find a few places north of the square, firstly, the museum of music which has some evening concerts, and then see a few hammams at least from the outside. The day before, I’d been very cautious not to get disoriented or lose my way, but then, I was feeling pretty lousy. Now, though still with a sore throat and congestion, I was ready to do as I usually do when seeing a new city: just wander wherever things look interesting until fairly tired out or late in the day, at which point I’ll use phone data and Google maps to figure out where I am (though the geolocation is often not quite accurate) and start making my way back to lodgings, knowing I’m still likely to make some wrong turns. I was in the maze of souks when I felt I’d had enough, and it was hard there to get much of a location and a good idea of where to go. The passageways are covered and narrow, wet underfoot, dirty and smelly, and seemingly endless. I looked for glimmers of sunlight that would suggest an exit to open alleyways if not actual streets. I did get out of the covered maze, and then still went in circles before getting back to the square.
