November 18 - 20, 2010
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An early start to reach Marrakech meant, unfortunately, that we saw little of Ouarzazate. Had we more time, it might have been fun to see the movie studios about 3 miles outside town. On the other hand, while some movie sets are said to be impressive, we believe most are severely weathered and in poor condition. Perhaps, it’s just as well our bubble wasn’t burst.
Before taking on the High Atlas Mountains, we bid farewell to Ouarzazate, already shrinking in the distance:
The mountain road we followed had many twists and turns with a very long downhill stretch in our direction of travel; Marrakech’s elevation is 2200 feet lower than that of Ouarzazate. The High Atlas Mountains have few trees and, at this time of year, virtually no snow despite their 13,000 ft elevation. What greenery we saw was far below for most of the ride. Happily, our outstanding driver took the turns “slow and easy,” lengthening the trip but reducing the chances of anyone becoming sick.
Because of our early morning start, we reached our Marrakech hotel, the modern Atlas Medina, by 1 pm, in time for lunch. The afternoon featured a “get-acquainted” tour of old Marrakech, shuttled there and back by coach. Led by a local guide, we walked a busy part of the old city with cars, bicycles, mopeds and pedestrians criss-crossing every which way. Unable to find a focal point in all that chaos, I aimed my camera upward and found a haven of calm and serenity:
It is easy to tell this is a female stork. Only a female would care enough to hang drapes outdoors.
Part of our old city “tour” involved listening to a lengthy sales pitch for herbs and ointments capable of curing every conceivable ailment. Thankfully, in this “pharmacy” we had the foresight to sit against a wall for back support. I will say it was entertaining --- after a fashion --- and sales WERE made. Who are we to knock these cure-alls? Besides, the sales team wore white frocks, so they should know!
By coach, we eventually reached what we came to see all along, the famous Djemaa-el-Fna Square, shown below courtesy an Internet photo:
The square is a tourist’s dream --- or nightmare, depending on your point of view. There are vendors of every stripe, shoppers and curiosity seekers --- more bikes, cars, mopeds, carriages --- monkeys ready to sit on your shoulder for a photo --- snake charmers with their performing cobras --- snakes available for draping your neck --- circles of people watching fist fights --- not to mention the food and spice stalls in the Square and other stalls all around the periphery.....WOW!
With that introduction complete, we regrouped at the hotel and prepared for the Square at night. This time carriages were summoned for transport. Below, Patty and Carol wait eagerly for the ride to begin:
.... and off we go!
Immersed in a sea of cars and motorbikes with lax pollution controls, we tried not to breathe any more than necessary. At the sight of the Koutoubia Mosque, across the road from the Square, we knew we had survived.
It’s a good thing we had our introduction to the Square during daytime. Night adds the glow of fires used for hot food preparation to the heady atmosphere. Literally hundreds of diners were in the Square enjoying a meal at what must be exceptional prices; charcoal smoke drifts everywhere.
Vendors’ stalls are illuminated brilliantly:
As for us, we were bound for a traditional Moroccan meal in a nice restaurant down an adjoining sidestreet. It was a wonderful spread, complete with birthday cake for one of our fellow travelers, but way too much food, much too much dessert and, even, entertainment that went on and on: a 3-piece band, a lady dancing with tea service on her head, a belly dancer, 3 female singers, 7 male singers and a partridge in a pear tree! .... Just kidding about the partridge but the rest were all there in sequence.
Next morning brought us to our favorite Marrakech beauty spot. Welcome to the Majorelle Gardens!
These botanical gardens are not large but they are wonderfully tranquil --- at least, if you arrive before the crowds pour in. Luckily, our guide rousted us up early to enjoy the garden’s peacefulness in the cool morning air.
The French-born artist Jacques Majorelle designed the gardens in 1924 on his own land. Although he was prolific as a painter, these gardens are said to be his creative masterpiece. The special shade of bold cobalt blue --- which can’t be missed --- is named after him, “Majorelle Blue.” In 1962, Majorelle died and his gardens were bought and restored by the late Yves Saint Laurent and his partner in 1980. The gardens have been open to the public since 1947.
Birds are plentiful in the gardens and make themselves right at home:
We were reluctant to leave but, by then, other coaches had arrived. Besides, we had an appointment at the Bahia Palace.
Built in the 19th century, the El Bahia Palace makes apparent how the wealthy lived at that time. There are 160 different rooms sprawled out in an open, rambling fashion. Rooms open to the public are unfurnished. Decorations take the form of subtle stucco panels, tiled floors, smooth arches, carved-cedar ceilings, shiny marble finishes and intricately painted ceilings.
Perhaps because of the meandering design of the Palace, we came away with no photos of the exterior. Any reader feeling cheated may view some truly professional photographs of the Palace, inside and out, on the website of Galen Frysinger:
http://www.galenfrysinger.com/morocco.htm
(Click on Marrakech, then on Bahia Palace.) Elsewhere on this same website are magnificent photos taken in all the Moroccan cities we visited (except Casablanca) and much, much more.
Wrapping up our last afternoon in Marrakech, we returned to the Djemaa-el-Fna Square. Two hours passed quickly enough, wandering on our own, people-watching, last-minute shopping and absorbing the remarkable scene one last time. Back at the hotel, this manicured path was part of our walk before dinner:
The promenade lies right down the middle of a wide boulevard a block from our hotel.
The return to Casablanca, next day, was uneventful. As we left Marrakech, the Royal Theatre was an easy photographic subject:
In Casablanca, Patty and I and Kerry, a young lady from South Africa, asked to be dropped off at the Hassan II Mosque to take the last tour of the day. After that, the three of us walked slowly back to our hotel, pausing at Rick’s Cafe (a recreation of the mythical bar --- closed for the afternoon), enjoying a snack and resting our feet at a restaurant built into an old fort, meandering through Casablanca’s medina (circa 1930’s) and searching in vain for waterfront views.
Our farewell dinner that evening was followed by speeches and long, noisy “goodbyes.” This was a splendid group with which to travel and not a bad apple in the lot --- and, we all knew it.
In the morning a van took us to the airport and off we flew to Paris. We looked forward to two days of setting our OWN pace before heading back to Africa for Thanksgiving in Mali.