Marrakech… and the wonders of adventure

Earlier this year we had a week in Marrakech and really enjoyed it. Someone once said the best holidays are based on experiences rather than sights and I can really see that. I think the journey from an airport is a real insight into any city – before you get to the manicured bit – and in Marrakech it is certainly true. It’s only about 20 minutes to the Medina from the airport but within a few hundred yards a scooter goes the wrong way around a roundabout, a drunk tries to get in the taxi with us and cyclists perform display-team interleaving trick at a crossroads.

ImagePrejudices and values are put to the test. The transport stops by the roadside in a shabby commercial street and the driver struggles to find the phone number of the hotel. We are persuaded to put our luggage in a handcart and we are then led down increasingly narrow alleyways and into a doorway. 50 yards along a dimly lit passageway we come to another big doorway and inside that… a beautiful palace that was our accommodation. Incidentally I watched a couple of British tourists arrive just as we were going out for the evening. They had been persuaded to follow a “guide” to an excellent place to eat and were clearly nervous about going through the door until we gave reassurances.

The markets are Dickensian with beggars, performers, stallholders touting for your business and lots of people trying to make a quick Dirham by being your guide. We’re just not used to it – hundreds of people wanting your money and willing to work for it. There is many a retailer in the UK who would love to have staff as keen and as knowledgeable.

Talking to people subsequently I have had it described as “threatening” and “dangerous”. Statistically it is actually a very safe place to be but its full of images which we associate with risk; we routinely treat smiling helpful faces as suspicious. Walking along narrow dimly lit alleyways at night is normally to be avoided. We are also constrained by language. There’s that awkward situation where you wish you had a neat Arabic or French phrase to get you out of but there’s not time.

Months later and I’m still thinking over some of the sights and situations. Yes, we sat in the sun on a roof terrace but we also had a freshly made avocado and almond juice with a fabulous cheese and vermicelli “scone”, honed our French day by day, and deliberately got lost in the souks just to see what we would stumble upon.

About justaukcook

/kʊk/ Not a chef, not an epicure, not a foodie. Just one who likes to prepare food – What really happens in the kitchen and on the high street is what I write about. Follow me on Twitter @Justaukcook and on
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