13th of July
It's amazing to think that Africa is only 12kms away from Europe at its shortest point but in many ways it's more than just another world away. Making our way from Barcelona to Marrakech via Madrid took up the greater part of a day, but landing onto a continent that was foreign to most of us of course had us anticipating what it had to offer. As we disembarked from our 2hr flight from Madrid my Dad made the observation that this airport was somewhat different to the other more 'familiar' European airports that he was accumstomed to, there were no planes here - well ofcourse, other than the EasyJet flight that we had just jumped off.
The mini van had dropped us off at the top end of Djema El Fna, a square that in the early and late evening is completety filled with people watching the nightly entertainment, made up of acrobots, storytellers, snake charmers, musicians,henna artists, weird and wonderful eccentric types...and much...much more...then there's the food stands, set up right behind them, providing a backdrop to the artists of the square. A smoke filled area filled with bright lights and diners enjoying a whole range of Moroccan delicacies. The cacophany of sounds, smells and sights was a huge wall of senses that was just about to smack all four of us squarely in the face, but not just yet. As our luggage was transferred from the mini-van to a middle aged Moroccan man standing behind a very large metal wheel barrow I could see the comfort factor on my parents face shift from mild anticipation and excitement to anxiety. Everything that was familiar, all things that they could hang a hat of reality and recognition on was just about to be taken away. Just to top things off, I had warned them sometime agothat the square was also notorious for pick pockets and theives, now we were going to be walking right through its pulsating heart,the good, bad and ugly, warts and all.
Djemaa El Fna in full swing - Marrakech - Morocco
Djemma El Fna - Marrakech - Morocco
As for JJ, little A.D.D. meerkat, I saw her eyes just light up with expectation and excitement. If a person had ever wanted to be transplanted into a place that was completely foreign and different to anything that they had experienced before, well, this was their chance - for JJ, her opportunity had arrived, go nuts girl!
Our thickly moustached Moroccan wheelbarrow porter and his support man stacked their transporting vehicle and than bounded out in front of us, heading down ....ave and skirting the edge of Djema El Fna. My Yugoslav parents looked like they had just 'checked out' for the moment. Not quite comprehending what was going on but still holding their bags tightly to their bodies whilst being accosted by then ongoings surrounding them. JJ's head was spinning from one smell, to a some type of new and strange sound, to bits and pieces of activity that were going on around her, and me, well I was mentally checking their capacity to take this all in and cool with it - I looked like my mum in particular was on the verge of hitting panic stations.
Rounding the outside of the square and dodging the majority of the 'people trafffic', we made our way up to Derb Dabachi.which is the road that our riad is located off. For some reason, which I'm still yet to discover, the pedestrian traffic on this thoroughfare is the equivalent to fighting your way to the bar on NYE in Sydney, a lesson in patience, dexterity and force. All of a sudden our personal space vanished, the 'road' closed in around us and our porters were reinforcing the warning that I had put to everyone 10 mins earlier, 'be very wary of your personal belongings!'.
Battling our way through the hordes of people wasn't our only point of conflict at this point, also attempting to fight their way through the tight crowd were motorbikes, donkeys pulling carts, horse drawn carriages and small taxis. Not only were my travelling crew having to check in with their own psyches in an attempt to rationalise the WTF scenario that was going on in their heads but they also needed to make sure that they were able follow the porters who were themselves battling to move through the mass of people and commotion whilst at the same time checking in on their personal belongings every 2 seconds.
As we moved down this glorified alley, men with promotional items for restaurants, hammam's, shops and all else were flinging flyers into our path and asking in that typically demanding Moroccan way to spend some time in establishments NOW - 'it's free to look - as they say.
For me personally, I was ok with my surroundings and I could see JJ was more than cool with it also but where I encountered my own personal flip out was for the well being off my parents, my mum in particular. Right at this point I could tell that her anxiety levels were through the roof and aside from teletransportation there was nothing I could do to correct the problem. Mental note - never travel with parents outside the safety of Europe again!!
After what felt like an eternity but in actual fact was probably less then twenty minutes, we turned right into a small, darkened alleyway. Immediately the anxiety that I owned on behalf of everyone else up until this point dissipated and I knew we were within striking distance of our accommodation. It was only later that I found out that the turn onto these very 'dodgy' looking back streets is where everyone else in the group went mental. Thoughts of Marrakechi madmen attacking us under the cloak of darkness and the misguided thoughts that nothing good or credible could ever exist within these crime riddled streets were apparently the pervading thoughts of everyone else. I recall mum asking in that more than concerned voice, 'Oh God, where are they taking us', and me saying, 'We're close now, it'll be fine, don't worry'...like my reassuring words were going to have any affect against the chaos and now impending danger that we now apparently faced.
Knocking on the door at #192 Derb Jdid, the lovely Briggite welcomed us in her typically French accent. As we walked into the central court of our riad all of us had to do a double take. The madness of the Moroccan streets had been totally shut out and we now found ourselves in a completely glorious and serene surrounding. Taking stock on the Morroccan lounges in the central court we all tried to settle our nerves and anxieties for whatever reason they had manifested. The smell of musk now filled the space around us and the vibes of some type of 'chilled desert lounge' music substituted the drums, horns and yelling that we had been in 2 minutes earlier.
Laying on the plush dark red and orange cushions, quietly sipping on the mint and sage tea that Briggite had prepared, staring at the candlelit lanters that surrounded us, the intensity of the prior 30mins was starting to feel like some type of lucid dream.
As Briggite took us around the riad, showed us our rooms and finally the stunning top floor terrace, we all took time to adjust, breathe and recalibrate.
Later in the evening we congregated on the terrace and lounged on the red and orange cushioned day beds located under a white canvas canopy. Appreciating the coolness of the evening and the soft breeze that made its way over the stone and concrete rooftops that surrounded us, we all looked up into the dark African night and chuckled at the collectiveexperience that we had just had. It had been a complete attack on our senses, uncomfortable for some, astounding for others. Now we sat in the middle of Marrakech on the first night of our visit to this North African country - welcome to Morocco my friends!
Battling our way through the hordes of people wasn't our only point of conflict at this point, also attempting to fight their way through the tight crowd were motorbikes, donkeys pulling carts, horse drawn carriages and small taxis. Not only were my travelling crew having to check in with their own psyches in an attempt to rationalise the WTF scenario that was going on in their heads but they also needed to make sure that they were able follow the porters who were themselves battling to move through the mass of people and commotion whilst at the same time checking in on their personal belongings every 2 seconds.
Derb Dabachi and arrival madness - Marrakech - Morocco
As we moved down this glorified alley, men with promotional items for restaurants, hammam's, shops and all else were flinging flyers into our path and asking in that typically demanding Moroccan way to spend some time in establishments NOW - 'it's free to look - as they say.
For me personally, I was ok with my surroundings and I could see JJ was more than cool with it also but where I encountered my own personal flip out was for the well being off my parents, my mum in particular. Right at this point I could tell that her anxiety levels were through the roof and aside from teletransportation there was nothing I could do to correct the problem. Mental note - never travel with parents outside the safety of Europe again!!
After what felt like an eternity but in actual fact was probably less then twenty minutes, we turned right into a small, darkened alleyway. Immediately the anxiety that I owned on behalf of everyone else up until this point dissipated and I knew we were within striking distance of our accommodation. It was only later that I found out that the turn onto these very 'dodgy' looking back streets is where everyone else in the group went mental. Thoughts of Marrakechi madmen attacking us under the cloak of darkness and the misguided thoughts that nothing good or credible could ever exist within these crime riddled streets were apparently the pervading thoughts of everyone else. I recall mum asking in that more than concerned voice, 'Oh God, where are they taking us', and me saying, 'We're close now, it'll be fine, don't worry'...like my reassuring words were going to have any affect against the chaos and now impending danger that we now apparently faced.
Knocking on the door at #192 Derb Jdid, the lovely Briggite welcomed us in her typically French accent. As we walked into the central court of our riad all of us had to do a double take. The madness of the Moroccan streets had been totally shut out and we now found ourselves in a completely glorious and serene surrounding. Taking stock on the Morroccan lounges in the central court we all tried to settle our nerves and anxieties for whatever reason they had manifested. The smell of musk now filled the space around us and the vibes of some type of 'chilled desert lounge' music substituted the drums, horns and yelling that we had been in 2 minutes earlier.
Laying on the plush dark red and orange cushions, quietly sipping on the mint and sage tea that Briggite had prepared, staring at the candlelit lanters that surrounded us, the intensity of the prior 30mins was starting to feel like some type of lucid dream.
As Briggite took us around the riad, showed us our rooms and finally the stunning top floor terrace, we all took time to adjust, breathe and recalibrate.
Riad Boussa - Marrakech
Later in the evening we congregated on the terrace and lounged on the red and orange cushioned day beds located under a white canvas canopy. Appreciating the coolness of the evening and the soft breeze that made its way over the stone and concrete rooftops that surrounded us, we all looked up into the dark African night and chuckled at the collectiveexperience that we had just had. It had been a complete attack on our senses, uncomfortable for some, astounding for others. Now we sat in the middle of Marrakech on the first night of our visit to this North African country - welcome to Morocco my friends!
