Marrakech aka: Marrakesh, مراكش

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It was probably bad luck, but my experience in Morocco was not so pleasant. I was constantly hassled by the local men even though I covered up. And we were constantly hassled for money too. We wouldn’t even ask for directions without someone wanting to make a quick buck. I felt unsafe in many occasions. The only good thing about this trip was La Pause, a hotel-restaurant in the middle of the desert, a 20min drive away from the city.

You might have heard rumors about Moroccan women being extremely beautiful.

It’s True.

I did not like it very much because the culture is not woman alone friendly and very in your face, but if you like exotism maybe this is a place for you to go as a couple or in a group.

Ever since the movie Almost Famous where Penny Lane keeps talking about going to Morocco, I’ve been fascinated with the idea of the place. So when I realized that I only had 2 continents left on my list, Africa and Australia, I decided that it was time for Morocco.

I never had any desire to go on safari but I did always have this need to see the Sahara someday. Didn’t need to walk through it or do anything there. I just wanted to see it just so I could say that I saw it. I knew Marrakech would be the perfect starting point to experience the exotic and old school flavors of Morocco as well take a side trip to the Sahara. Beyond that, I didn’t know a whole lot about the place.

Now that I’m back, I still don’t know that I’ve been able wrap my head around the place. It was like I was in a time/reality warp. The most bizarre place I’ve ever been in my life. Totally mystical and frustrating and breathtaking and uncomfortable. It wasn’t anything like a resort vaca for sure.

I had too many different types of experiences to sum up here but I can say that I learned more and absorbed more foreign culture than any other trip I’ve ever been on.

I’ve gotten into the habit of trying to sum up my trips in a string of words. It won’t do the trip justice but here goes: pink stucco, rugged landscape, no systems to speak of, hustlers everywhere, ancient times square, Djemma el Fna, dark alleyways, schwarma, Hotel Scherazade, Yasue, terraces, mint tea, freezing rooms, cats everywhere, labrynth of souks, tagine, olive trees, minarets, “konichiwa”, veiled women, animal carcasses, doors, moroccan lamps, stinky leather, the local hammam, a scrubbing to remember, Islam, Essouira, crepes with honey, getting ripped off, juice de banane, fresh squeezed OJ, my trusty hoodie, 20 hours in a van crossing Morocco, Todra Gorge, millions and millions of stars, male and female date palms, cute country donkeys, the Todra valley, the carpet hard sell, Berber villages, beggars – mostly women and children, Moustapha the camel, The Sahara, mountains of sand, camel poop, berber tents, Bara the frisky nomad, berber drums, Pan&Sophie, Marcus, Maria&that other girl, sand toilets, listening to “End of the World” while crossing the Sahara, argan oil, fresh figs and dates, Jafar, pad see ew at Nawarma, Riad Celia, view of the moon and stars from the terrace, Rachel in Gueliz, final meal of veggie couscous, the final glass of fresh oj at dawn.