Morocco Markets and Food
The Medina in Marrakesh is one of those places you dream about seeing, well I did anyway, and fueled by the words of Robert Louis Stevenson's poem "Travel" and the love of all kinds of bazaars and markets I was truly excited and not a little nervous about dipping into the souks and alleyways that make up the old town of Marrakesh.
It was still light when we arrived and the snake charmers and showmen were only just beginning their nightly routines. The light was soft and cast a tender glow on the groups of rag tag performers and their somewhat jaded snakes. It didn't take long before I had a small python around me, not very heavy and quite tame it did the expected furl around and allowed me to pet it without protest. The black cobras did a good job of looking pissed off and then that was it..snake charmers are not so charming and demand money, which is ok I suppose but they are very dense about it, I think a little sales spiel would have suited them better but I am not complaining I like snakes.
Then we went into the market proper, into the winding alleyways that the guide books tell you you can get lost in..they were not busy, Marrakesh Medina was bombed only a month ago and although we saw plenty of visitors there was a sedate vibe to the place. The shop keepers were quite insistent and it was hard to browse the shops without being mentally beaten into purchasing something. If you said 'no' it seemed that you were insulting the produce which is a bit odd, you can like something but not actually want it..you can actually not like something and not want it either so how does that end up being the thing you get sold..I think the shop keepers had more tricks than the snake charmers which is why I have a camel bone mirror when it was the last thing I wanted.
I was scared to stop after that, who knows what I would emerge with. We did have a few run ins with the locals who drive motorbikes through the alleys regardless of the pedestrians and one charming young man allowed us to experience his vast knowledge of the English language by heaping insults on us as he trailed us through one set of alleyways. I did want to turn at some point and smile at him before launching into a stream of Indonesian to make him consider how silly he was , but then, I think he knew how silly he was anyway and the pleasure he derived from his actions might well have increased if I had, so I left him to his musings on the great degrees of ugliness Tanja and I possessed and the insults to our respective ages and our overall repulsion to the world at large.
After a less than wonderful stop in a large cafe we stepped into the fading light and we found ourselves among the fetid smells of mules and men.. our driver soon arrived and before long, the camel bone mirror in my bag we headed back to the carpeted lawns of the Amanjena to enjoy the moon rise over the pool.
It was still light when we arrived and the snake charmers and showmen were only just beginning their nightly routines. The light was soft and cast a tender glow on the groups of rag tag performers and their somewhat jaded snakes. It didn't take long before I had a small python around me, not very heavy and quite tame it did the expected furl around and allowed me to pet it without protest. The black cobras did a good job of looking pissed off and then that was it..snake charmers are not so charming and demand money, which is ok I suppose but they are very dense about it, I think a little sales spiel would have suited them better but I am not complaining I like snakes.
Then we went into the market proper, into the winding alleyways that the guide books tell you you can get lost in..they were not busy, Marrakesh Medina was bombed only a month ago and although we saw plenty of visitors there was a sedate vibe to the place. The shop keepers were quite insistent and it was hard to browse the shops without being mentally beaten into purchasing something. If you said 'no' it seemed that you were insulting the produce which is a bit odd, you can like something but not actually want it..you can actually not like something and not want it either so how does that end up being the thing you get sold..I think the shop keepers had more tricks than the snake charmers which is why I have a camel bone mirror when it was the last thing I wanted.
I was scared to stop after that, who knows what I would emerge with. We did have a few run ins with the locals who drive motorbikes through the alleys regardless of the pedestrians and one charming young man allowed us to experience his vast knowledge of the English language by heaping insults on us as he trailed us through one set of alleyways. I did want to turn at some point and smile at him before launching into a stream of Indonesian to make him consider how silly he was , but then, I think he knew how silly he was anyway and the pleasure he derived from his actions might well have increased if I had, so I left him to his musings on the great degrees of ugliness Tanja and I possessed and the insults to our respective ages and our overall repulsion to the world at large.
After a less than wonderful stop in a large cafe we stepped into the fading light and we found ourselves among the fetid smells of mules and men.. our driver soon arrived and before long, the camel bone mirror in my bag we headed back to the carpeted lawns of the Amanjena to enjoy the moon rise over the pool.
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