A New Continent

Morocco, October 3- 8
We stopped on a busy street on the edge of a pedestrian walkway teeming with people. “Just walk up here,” said the taxi driver gesturing vaguely down the street. “Your hotel is not far.” We gathered our bags and set off in what we hoped was the direction of the main square, Djemma el Fna. Emma’s roller bag got stuck in a grate and as we struggled to get it out Mitch disappeared into the crowd ahead busy trying to figure out where we were on the map. It was 7pm and the streets were packed. Bjorn ran ahead and we were soon reunited.

Then, the smaller street opened onto a large open square. We were in the center of the old city of Marrakesh, Djemma El Fna. Smoke rose from food cooking on open braziers and we passed vendors squatting on the ground with their wares spread on a blanket. They sold blue powder in mounds, mysterious oils and ostrich eggs. Men wearing turbans and long cloaks gathered around storytellers. The next day we would see snake charmers and acrobats here. But right now we were just a little bit lost. A young man approached and offered to guide us to our hotel. He took us into the souk or marketplace and, after leading us down winding, narrow, covered passageways, he finally got us to our hotel. Might as well make it look a bit tricky so we would tip him more.

We plopped our bags down in the quiet interior as the desk clerk went for tea. Our hotel was a riad which was a three story building with a large open courtyard in the center and a terrace up on the flat roof.

Soon the desk clerk returned and poured mint tea raising the teapot high above tiny glasses. Bjorn and Emma immediately proclaimed it the best tea they had ever had. Then, we checked in and after dropping our bags in our room upstairs, our desk clerk offered to take us to a good restaurant. He stepped into the hustle and bustle of the lane and darted off in the direction of the main square. We jostled along trying to stick together and keep track of our guide. The desk clerk eventually led us to a large tent with tables set up underneath. We sat down at a table with two young men from Turkey now living in Germany and an older man who is a history scholar and teaches here in Morocco for a semester abroad program for a consortium of colleges. The conversation was lively and the food excellent.

The next day we went to that area and the restaurants were gone. Every day the awnings, tables, benches and food are all carted onto the square by hand pulled carts. They work hard serving food and cleaning up and then take the whole thing down again. We went back to the same spot for the next two nights. Each night the waiters greeted us like we were old friends.

We are now on the Atlantic coast of Morocco in the beautiful old city of Essouria. The old town is a jumble of whitewashed buildings surrounded by a high city wall. We spent the afternoon yesterday exploring the beach and the dunes on the far end. Camels and their handlers hang out waiting for someone to pay for a ride.

Tomorrow we leave to begin the journey south to the edge of the Sahara Desert.
-Margit