After 5 interesting days exploring Marrakech and its surroundings, Andy and I came to the conclusion that visiting Morocco is like being on a huge treasure hunt; you have to search through the endless filth, ward off the creepy locals, and dodge the cobras to find the gorgeous hidden treasures!
And the first treasure we came across was our hotel, The Riad Sabba. When those huge wooden doors opened, it was like walking into nirvana! It was clean, smelled of roses and mint tea, decorated with traditional Moroccan lamps, and the only sound came from the water trickling down the fountain in the center of the house. This place was stunning. It had only 4 rooms, we were the only ones staying there until our last night. Breakfast was served every morning on the roof top terrace over looking the tops of the ancient rose colored city, and when the owner found out it was our honeymoon he brought 36 red roses to our room and decorated the center fountain with rose petals! Now this is exactly what I thought Morocco would be like.
Then we made the decision to step back outside into the crazy local’s territory and find the huge square where the storytellers danced, snake charmers sat, fire-eaters roamed, and the winding paths to the market souks began! I was sure that it was going to open up into this fantastic square and be like something from the movies. I thought maybe we were staying in the bad area of town and just had to get through it to make it to the fabulous mosaic architecture and bustling markets selling fancy Moroccan memorabilia. I couldn’t have been anymore wrong. If anything, we were staying in the nice end of the old city! The closer we got to the square the more annoying the people on the side of the street got. They would grab our arms trying to sell us some crap for a “good deal” because “it quality”! Then the smells began to get worse. They were never pleasant to begin with, but the closer we got to the center of the old city the stronger the smells got and when you didn’t think it could possibly get worse, it did! I still to this day have no idea where on earth this stench was coming from or what could possibly produce it, but I have a sneaky feeling it was a mix of the locals and the many creatures from moneys to donkeys roaming the tiny streets!
When we got to the square it was nothing like I had pictured in my mind. In all honesty, I had pictured a place that could have come out of Universal Studios or Disney World and instead was faced with this huge open space packed with people trying to scam you into giving them money for something you were not even aware you wanted! As we pushed our way through the crowd looking for one of the sites I had read about in my travel book, a local man snuck up behind Andy and me and threw this HUGE poisonous water snake around Andy’s neck! I jumped about 4 feet in the air and let out a scream as Andy was being pulled away shouting at the man, “Get this thing off my neck!” And right as I began to chase after him, this women, covered from head to toe so I can only see her eyes, has me by the hand pulling me in the opposite direction drawing henna tattoos on my hand demanding I give her 10 pounds! As I am arguing with her telling her I didn’t ask to be drawn on and explaining to her she just attacked me with her henna pen without my permission and for that I would not pay, I see Andy a few feet away having the exact same argument with the snake man! These people were unreal!
To take a break from this hectic, nothing like Disney square, we headed into the enormous market maze of the souks. Well it wasn’t any less hectic, if anything more so. There were people coming at you in all directions trying to get you to buy their pastries (coved in flies), scarves, shoes, leather bags, mirrors, lanterns, nick knacks, spices, and any other junk they could annoy you enough into buying, all the while you are desperately trying to avoid the scooters and mopeds speeding down the already overly crowed path. Then a determined carpet seller spotted Andy and me and drug us into his shop. From the get go Andy was saying, “No thanks we don’t want a rug” and “We are not going to buy a rug” but the persistent, and I think a little drunk, man was determined to show us every kind of style rug he had, as he served us sweet mint tea. Now I read in my book not to accept tea from any seller unless you are going to buy his products, so at this point I am getting really nervous and fearing he is going to force us into buying one of these hideous, probably flea infested (tip from the street smarts section of the travel guide) rugs. And right when I thought my nerves were at their wits end, he tells Andy and me to follow him, as he pulls a hanging rug aside to show a narrow dark staircase, to see how the rugs are made. Before I could object and run from the shop crying, Andy is walking up the stairs! I couldn’t believe we were following this man! This is exactly the kind of thing my mother has been warning me about my entire life. This is the exact kind of thing that could end in a Hollywood blockbuster like Taken! Here we were following this man up into a dark room, in the middle of this mayhem, where he was going to kill Andy and sell me on the black market! But once we made it to the top I saw he really was just showing us how the rugs are made. And in the corner of this outrageously hot room was a young woman working as fast as she could to get another one of these awful rugs made!
After this adventure filled day we thought it was a good idea to go to the restaurant the owner of the hotel recommended. It was in an area called the Kasbah and was about a 10 minute walk away from the hectic square. When we got to the restaurant, called The Kozy Bar, it wasn’t that much different from all the other areas we had visited that afternoon. But as soon as we walked in it was like stepping into a romantic novel. The center of the restaurant was open to the outside air going up three stories and tiny rays of light dancing on the walls from the hundred intricate Moroccan lanterns hanging. The third story was a candle lit roof terrace with hug white pillow seats and packed tourist drinking bottles of wine while looking out on the frantic street. It was so blissful and romantic that it was like having dinner in Arabian heaven! We stayed here for a few hours just eating and drinking and talking about how Marrakech really wasn’t that bad. I mean how could you dislike a place when you were sitting somewhere like this??
But the meal eventually came to an end and when we walked outside back onto the dirty rundown streets, Andy looked over at a building in ruins and said, “This probably isn’t the most romantic thing to say on a honeymoon, but walking around these streets is exactly like walking around in Iraq”. So I would say that last sentence pretty much sums up Morocco (except for those few little treasures)!
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