Our last day in Morocco was spent in the wacky city of Marakesh. Over the years I have learned something about myself… while I love love to travel, I love to travel more to quiet places. Though I revel in the sights and the sounds of the cities, I am always relieved to get back to quiet.
Marrakech has millions of people and is full of insane drivers on motorbikes. I would be interested to know the statistic of people who have foot or leg injuries from getting run over. It was very overwhelming at first, but after a day of walking in the middle of it, I was used to them and the near misses while on the sidewalks. It was colorful and vibrant and constantly moving. It was very hard to talk to people, because no matter the question, you were expected to pay them for the answer. I didn’t take many photos either, for fear I would be charged for them. I think our most memorable experience there was the berserk henna lady that pretty much attacked me in the market. She started drawing on me before I knew what was happening, and after she was through with me she took after the Italian, who clearly told her to leave her alone. It didn’t work. We were both inked. And then she tried to charge us nearly $80 for what she did. We gave her $10. (or close to the equivalent) A little boy sweetly helped clean us up….and then we had to pay him.
Night time at the market was even more full of people. Our last meal there, was of course couscous. And mint tea. It was only appropriate. (We had found cheese and regular bread for a couple meals before that, and were really happy to have found them! We even had ice cream. Which of course was probably not pasturized and of course I was sick an hour later. ) There were men cooking in hundreds of different food stands, all competing for their customers. Some of them were very good at their jobs, others were not. (We were often mistaken for Aussies or Germans, in which we discovered that they could not tell the difference between accents if you spoke english) There were snakes and snake “charmers” all over the square. And fortune tellers and men with monkey’s on leashes. The chaos of it was invigorating but overwhelming. In the words of a crazy englishman staying at our Riad “I was just walking around minding my own and the next thing you know I have a @#$%^& ape on my back!!!” he was an interersting character for sure. He also wasn’t very fond of the children trying sell him wooden snakes. We of course totally bought one for the dino dude.
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Early the next morning, before the sun woke up, we headed to the train station to catch a ride back to Casablanca to jump on a plane and start our journey home. While my travel compadres slept, I watched the last sunrise I would see in Northern Africa. It was beautiful, but it was time to get home.
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Song: Marrakech Express, Crosby Stills and Nash