“How Bazaar, How Bazaar”

The Calm Before the Souks

After spending the night near the gorge we were ready to take a look at it the next morning. The gorge has turned into quite the social gathering over some time. Half of the floor, next to the creek, has been paved for vehicles to drive on. There are houses within the gorge that people live in and also riads for people to stay in.

Previous tours had stayed in one of the riads, but it was not longer serviceable. A rockslide occurred and  a boulder crashed into the house, the kitchen ceased to exist.

We walked through while a cool breeze blew by. Teenagers hauled food and drinks to the other side of the gorge floor to enjoy the day together by the creek. They played instruments, sang songs, and one boisterous boy carried a watermelon across the creek on his shoulder, only to drop it as he was mere feet from his group. A sad sight of green and red meloncholy (get it… melon-choly… see the joke is… nevermind).

Fresh cold water to keep the drinks cold.

Kids being kids

Lovely restaurant inside the gorge.

Gorge

Former Riad used. As you can see a whole chunk was destroyed when a rock took a tumble.

Eventually, we drove off in the direction of Ait Benhaddou. It’s a famous town for filming many movies, but most recently the TV show Game of Thrones.

Just before we made it there though, our guide suggested we visit a Berber pharmacy/herbal remedy.

For the next 30 minutes we were inundated with smells. All of them good, a striking departure from basically all of Morocco. The gentleman in charge was the most pleasant snake oil salesman we had met in Morocco. He passed around cures for everything, each containing a touch of this herb, a splash of this oil (a sliver of this animal flesh). He also sold spice blends, at a steep price even by USD, to flavor all your dishes and inevitably boost your metabolism or slow it down.

Anything ailing you, he had, or at least could tell you this would cure that. We left empty handed, much to the chagrin of the Berber businessman, after the pitch of so may fanciful things.

Our guide Rashid called Clay Cat Stevens for the majority of the trip.

One of the views along the way.

When we did make it to Ait Benhaddou, we were forced to cross a swift moving creek. Disappointing, no one fell in, but it was touch and go for a few of the shorter people.

The city was awesome. Our guide did a great job of explaining the city to us, provided a brief history, and led us to the top of the city for views of the surrounding countryside. Our guide also mentioned he had been coming to the site for the last 5+ years and had seen its noticeable decline. While it is a UNESCO site, there are “more important” UNESCO places in Morocco so this location, especially because it is so remote, does not attract the amount of people and money to warrant the necessary upkeep. 

The river no one fell in.

Crossing the Nile (maybe? We were in Africa)

Just call her Daenerys Mother of Dragons.

Our guide felt that in the next 5-10 years it would look so much worse that it would be unrecognizable and soon after, cease to exist. He explained the houses are all made of mud. How only two-three families still live in the city, as the Moroccan gov’t persuaded/pushed all the other families out. Those remaining have no running water, no power, and are not allowed to because a UNESCO site cannot be altered apparently. These families will live there until their houses crumble away and there will be no city left to speak of.

Marrakesh and the Infamous Souks

After a night of more tajines and card games we left early in the morning due to the threat of severe inclement weather in the Atlas Mountains. We successfully missed the poor weather and made it into Marrekech early, giving us time to walk around the medina and thousands of souks lining the streets.

Hello Marrakesh

Our initial tour of the medina was not very beneficial. Our first stop was a cemetery that was only recently found when a plane flew over it and “discovered” it. It had been walled off from the city at one point because the person walling it up wanted the people honored inside forgotten about. It was a beautiful, quiet area in the middle of all the hustle and bustle.

The guide then took us to another riad/palace like place to explore. It was in the same structure as many of the other palaces, alacazars that we had visited. Walls on the outside and decoration on the inside.

Finally our guide speed walked through the maze of shops, hardly mentioning any significant notes. We were led through the leather district, iron working section, fabrics, and foodstuffs with nary more than a nod and a note of what area we were in.

Really, the walls of rugs mean we are in the rug section? The guy welding over there means we are in the iron sections? Even if you were blind, the smells, sounds, and touching of goods, could have given you enough clues as to where you were.

We decided to walk around a little in the souks to try to get an idea of the souvenirs we still needed to purchase for folks back home. It was painful. There are so many shops, sensory overload cripples you. It’s loud in much of the areas so you can barely hear anything. It’s deathly quite in others so it feel like everyone is listening to you.

I could not walk anywhere in Morocco without some store owner yelling “Ali Baba!! Ali Baba!!” In these places the problem is exacerbated because there are many more shops and many more shop owners.

If the sights, sounds, and smells don’t deter you from shopping, then the haggling will. You will never know how much something costs. Ask, and the shop owner will attempt to corral you into his store, barricade you in with a wall of goods, and then harass you until you buy or start cursing (at least in my experience).

People will tell you it’s an experience. It is. A horribly unpleasant one.

We had dinner with the group in the main square next to the shops. More sights, sounds, and unpleasant smells to go with the solicitors hawking watches, hats, and sunglasses. When they weren’t around, it was women and children begging for your last piece of bread.

Cities in Morocco are not a place you can enjoy peacefully.

The next day was the day I had been dreading. I knew we were going to have to buy things, but I didn’t want to deal with the people to do it. It took many hours across many shops to finally finish our Morocco gift buying.

Our biggest purchase was for my brother-in-law, who now has a lovely bag direct from Marrekech. It was a three bag purchase in total, as I procured a bag (purse) for our camera, and another gift for someone. We spent hours trying to find a bag that would not make him hate us. I have been told we succeeded.

Both the shop owner and I were unhappy after the purchase. I was tired of haggling and he was tired of me taking up all his time. But if I was gonna be miserable, everyone else around me was gonna be too. I had hemmed and hawed, complained, and did everything I could to ensure he did not enjoy his time with me.

Of course everyone we have met that has dealt with haggling will tell you that women are better at it than men. Elizabeth proved the adage true when she haggled for around fifteen minutes with two shop owners for three items. They did not seem to enjoy her ability to look them in the eye and give an incredulously low number. Repeatedly she did this to them. She didn’t so much haggle as she gave them one (low) price point and if they didn’t meet it within a 5-10 dirham range she walked. 

I think she always walked away with a better deal than I did.

Thirty minutes later, we found our way out of the hell known as the souks. We had walked by the same shops 3-4 times. A man began following us at one point, the kind of man that will escort you out of the souks to the main square for a substantial fee. But we made it out on our own, using the mosque minaret’s as our guides (and finally realizing they had a few sign posts to guide you around).

We mailed yet another collection of trinkets, art, and worn clothes back home and then headed out to dinner.

On our way to dinner, we had to stop by a dry cleaners. A couple of folks on the tour had dropped their clothes at the cleaners, attempted to pick them back up, and were told the price to pick up 8-10 garments was 100+ USD. This was not the price quoted initially.

After much back and forth with our guide, the price was reduced to 80 USD. As had happened the last time someone else had their clothes “cleaned” in a city prior to Marrekech on our tour, the clothes came back wet and dirtier than when initially handed over the the cleaners.

Let this be a lesson to everyone. Don’t go to Morocco, but if you do, stay in a place with a washer and dryer.

We enjoyed our final dinner with some members of our team. The next day a few people would leave and the rest would head to Essaouira.