The arrival of summer heralded the final phase of a memorable year at university. This was also the time when scores of students packed their bags and headed out to explore Europe before tackling their dissertations. Most of the people we knew made a beeline for the wonderful cities of western Europe. A few set out to explore the equally magnificent sights of Eastern Europe.
But our itch to go to someplace slightly off the beaten track led us to Morocco, nestling at the very tip of North Africa. There were eight people when we started planning, but only two of us eventually landed on Moroccan soil. Our first stop and ‘headquarters’ for the trip, was Marrakesh.
MARRAKESH
While getting in and out of the city was planned, what we were going to do once we landed was not. Nevertheless, armed with a smattering of schoolroom French, we strode out to the taxi rank at Marrakesh airport. Our strange grasp of the language probably amused the cab driver, but it probably helped us get to the city center without being overcharged.
Our good run continued while searching for a hotel near the main square. The very first one we sauntered into had reasonably decent rooms, and we happily settled into one after a brief, but customary bout of haggling over the room rate. Having set up camp, we headed out to explore Djemaa El-Fna.
Djemaa El-Fna is without a doubt one of Marrakesh’s most prominent landmarks. One side of this huge square is taken up by a souk, a traditional North African market. A line of cafes cater to the endless stream of locals and tourists that throng the area. Narrow streets at the square’s edges lead into the quaint little alleys of the medina quarter.
Djemaa El-Fna in the morning
We walked about, taking in the sights and sounds of the place. Shopkeepers accosted us at every turn, and their salesmanship made their counterparts on Bombay’s Fashion Street seem rather tame by comparison. One local character tried his best to sell us an antique Berber dagger, which was more likely a cheap replica. It was quite a task to tactfully shake him off, even after the asking price had been reduced to an astonishingly low figure, which only served to make me doubt the supposed antique’s authenticity still further!
There is nothing particularly remarkable about the Djemaa El-Fna by day. A few stalls brave the afternoon sun, snake charmers and youngsters with Barbary apes scout for tourists in search of an unusual photo-op. But as dusk falls, the area undergoes an unbelievable change.
A sea of humanity descends upon the square, filling it from end to end. Food stalls offering a mouthwatering assortment of Moroccan delicacies spring up, and the exuberant lot that run them go all out to get you to stuff yourself at their tables. Berber storytellers enthrall locals and tourists alike with their performances, and the bright lights of the place virtually turn night into day. The sheer vivacity of Djemaa El-Fna by night has to be seen to be believed! Small wonder that we were back here every evening to soak in the amazing atmosphere of the place,
As evening approaches, the crowds gather!
OUZOUD FALLS
We visited a small travel agency near our hotel on the following day to see what short trips they had to offer. There were two vacant slots for a day trip to the Ouzoud Falls, and we happily hopped on. Our travel companions were two Russians, a bubbly Swedish backpacker and a very quiet French couple.
The Ouzoud Falls are situated about 150 kilometers northeast of Marrakesh, near a little Berber village called Tanaghmeilt. A few small mills can be seen around the summit area, while a path lined with olive trees takes one to the bottom. The place doesn’t have the same glamour quotient as the Niagara Falls, but it its appeal lies in the fact that it isn’t terribly touristy (at least that’s how it was when we visited in 2009).
Our Berber guide wanted 80 Moroccan Dirhams to show us around. We hammered it down to 40 after a customary bout of haggling, and down again to 30 when one of the Russians suddenly launched into a tirade about being hustled all the time. After a tour of the Berber village and a nice little hike, our group sat down for a Moroccan lunch at a restaurant near the falls. We capped a day well spent with a hearty dinner, where we gorged on tajine chicken, a superb local dish that derives its name from the earthenware pot in which it is prepared.
ESSAOUIRA
A day trip to the lovely coastal city of Essaouira was on the cards for day three. At first glance, Essaouira could be mistaken for a fortified European port, with its blue windows, battlements and old cannons that stand sentinel along the shore. However, that illusion rapidly melts away once you enter the walled Medina area. The city’s interesting mix of architecture and culture is a result of Essaouira’s location, which has over the centuries exposed it to Berber, Chiadma, Gnawa and European influences.
Exploring Essaouira
We strolled through the narrow alleyways, not with a map but with an eagerness to simply explore the place. Sellers of colorful rugs, spices, antiques (both suspect and genuine) and tourist souvenirs lined every available spot. They aren’t as pushy as their contemporaries in Marrakesh, but the necessity of bargaining is universal! The Medina is off-limits to vehicles, which lends an old world charm to the area, but we were brought back to the present time on more than one occasion by speeding mopeds for whom brakes seemed to be an optional accessory.
Bob Marley posters for sale in an Essaouira alley!
The rest of the afternoon was spent exploring the beach and the harbor, and savoring a few cups of mint tea while watching the world go by. We were approached every now and then by a ‘space cake’ seller, a product of Essaouira’s years as a hippie hangout. Interestingly, Morocco was once the largest producer of cannabis, a title now held by Afghanistan. Drugs may be illegal, but the sight of men lighting up a joint remains a fairly common one, given that Moroccans have smoked kif for generations.
ONE LAST ‘SQUARE’ MEAL
We brought down the curtain on our memorable Moroccan foray with a superb dinner in the Djemaa El-Fna. The competition between the food stalls in the square is rather fierce. Every tourist who ventures into the square is, short of being pounced upon, besieged by beckoning servers and loud calls to sample their shawarmas.
The food arrives…
...and is gone in a trice!
As soon as he found out that we were from India, the jovial Moroccan at our chosen food stall suddenly exclaimed ‘Arey O Samba, kitne aadmi the?’‘ and other iconic dialogues from the Bollywood blockbuster Sholay! He switched in an instant to Spanish when he spotted a group of Spaniards wondering where to eat.
Doing this year in and year out gives these people an uncanny instinct for pinpointing their prospective customer’s nationalities, and quickly uttering a few choice phrases in that language along with their sales pitch works brilliantly for them. A sporting lot, they shuttle effortlessly all night between snagging new customers, cracking jokes while serving diners and posing for pictures with wide grins on their faces. People such as these are truly the life of the Djemaa El-Fna.
After dinner, I sat at a cafe till it was well past midnight and soaked in the atmosphere of the Djemaa El-Fna one last time. We speculated about how many countries were represented here tonight, and tried to guess where James Stewart may have heard the dying Frenchman’s last words in The Man Who Knew Too Much. A few hours later, we were on a plane and headed back to reality.
Over five years have passed since I visited Morocco. But I still look through the photos once in a while and relive the memories of visiting this lovely country. And finally, after lying in my drafts folder for an eternity, it is up on my blog for posterity!
RandomnessChronicles 