After two sun-soaked days of R&R at The Capaldi, we felt energised enough to brave the madness of Marrakech. A cloudy Saturday morning made it easier to drag ourselves away from the pool, put on some actual clothes and hop into a 40 minute cab to the city.
Corrinne had given us crystal clear directions through all the best derbs, but just 20 minutes in and we were happily lost among the city’s 3,000 winding alleyways. After warnings about the intensity of the souks, we’d braced ourselves to be harassed to buy rugs and lanterns at every turn – but actually, we were pretty much left to our own devices. The only really stressful thing was the endless scooters and bicycles racing down the narrow streets, scattering tourists and stray cats in their path.
In the heart of the medina we stumbled into Ben Youssef Madrasa, an old Islamic college now open to the public as an historical site. We didn’t know that at the time – for the first five minutes we thought we were paying 10 Dr to use an incredibly elaborate public toilet! We realised our mistake as soon as we wandered into the beautiful tiled marble and stucco courtyard, and began to explore the labyrinth of tiny stone corridors. We were able to duck into any of the 130 student dormitory cells; the ultimate place for a game of hide and seek…
I didn’t love the medina (the fly-covered fruit, pastries and meat, the stench of fish laid out in the sun all morning, mangy chickens and cats prowling through the dust) but I didn’t hate it as much as I’d expected to from other people’s accounts. The Aladdin’s cave-like souks overflowing with huge colourful hanging tapestries and berber carpets, the rows and rows of yellow, red and blue shoes, the smell of camel leather bags and the glint of the brass lanterns – I absolutely get how people catch the Marrakech bug.
Yet my favourite part of the day was in complete contrast to those hectic market streets. After a stroll past the Koutoubia Mosque and its surrounding red clay ramparts, we walked up to the north of the city.
There we found the Jardin Majorelle, the small landscaped garden restored by designer Yves Saint Laurent. This was exactly the oasis of calm we needed after the heat of the medina – the lush green cacti, palms and bamboo hiding intense cobalt blue buildings and pots of bright reds, yellows and orange. Intricate waterways flow into a large waterlily-strewn pond circled with palm trees. The only sound is the trickle of water from the fountains and streams, and the intense birdsong.
From the gardens we made our way back into the city and sought out Café Arabe for some food and the best views of the rooftops of the medina.
We finished the day with a coffee on one of the rooftop terraces overlooking over the crazy Jemaa el-Fnaa, where vendors sell fresh Moroccan orange juice for 2 Dr a glass. Marrakech’s main square is probably the strangest place I’ve ever been. There are snake charmers teasing tourists with live rattlesnakes, while monkey trainers lead baboons on dog leads through the crowds. There are magicians and musicians, and story tellers dressed like medieval jesters. It’s like Leicester Square on crack.
Leaving the city exhausted and ready to settle in with a bottle of wine, we were already looking forward to a very different sort of trip the following day. More on that to follow shortly…
