Look away now if you don’t have more than a few minutes to scroll down. Yes, there are lots of images but come on, I can’t spend three days in a place like Marrakech and not be constantly taking photographs, now can I?
The city is an assault on the senses. When you first step out the taxi, the dust, heat and speed of the traffic around you can be intimidating but thankfully, our riad was an oasis of calm and cool. We stayed at Dar Les Cigognes through Mr & Mrs Smith. After a 3 hour nap (can’t do that with a toddler around) we headed out into the fray. We realised by the time that we left that although it seems to be chaos on the streets, it actually isn’t. Yes, there are motorbikes whizzing past you constantly, missing you by a matter of centimeters in those tight alleyways, bicycles, as well as carts pulled by worn looking donkeys; if you keep your wits about you, you are totally safe. There don’t seem to be angry drivers, just fast ones. The Moroccan people are genuinely lovely and we never felt unsafe or overly hassled, even in the main market. Also, aside from the occasional inevitable waft of sewage, we were both surprised how lovely Marrakech smelt. It has a soapy, spicy welcoming smell. I miss it all already.
We fell in love with the beaten metal sinks in our riad, and the bars and restaurants.
At our first lunch in Marrakech, the overhead cover you see below, broke free from its wall and crashed down onto my head, so we moved to the other side of the bar and watched as they repaired it. Leon is unfazed, as you can see.
This is as close I could get to these amazing horse drawn carriages without being hassled to get in one.
We found a great bar overlooking the main square (Jemaa El-fna) to watch the market transform from the day time shopping activities to the open air restaurant that it becomes every evening.
We had dinner the first night at the restaurant at the top of our riad. The light was just incredible.
The storks that nest on top of the Royal Palace are famous and in fact, the name of our riad means storks.
We were advised not to eat in the market but that didn’t seem to bother many other people.
The expression on the driver below is one that I saw WAY too many times as I tried not to get squashed…
The food stalls sellers really have their English banter down pat. Leon got lots of, “Skinny Bruce Willis!” and we both got lots of Eastenders references thrown at us. Clearly a few of them had lived in the UK.
You made it to the end, well done. 😉
I’m off to photograph a wedding in Kennington later today. Have a fantastic weekend, all.
xxx
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