My birthday dinner in the place Jemaa el Fna - I wasn't feeling in tip top shape this night, but it was just perfect regardless
This is the historic Medersa, the islamic school now open to the public as a tourist site. Incredible detail on every inch of the building.
Well, Marrakech isn't as hardened to tourists as we were led to believe. I mean, yes, some people can be persistent - take for example the woman who grabbed my hand and started henna-ing on it throughout my protests. When I refused to pay her, as I said I would, she took her henna thinger and scooped the black goop back up leaving a not so gorgeous yellowish tinge to my hand. But that's been the most audacious attempt at money-making so far. I've heard to steer clear of fellows with monkeys, cause they'll throw the monkey on you and ask to be paid to get the monkey off your back (hah! sorry, pun intended). Brian and I got lost a few times yesterday wandering through the medina and we were guided helpfully by numerous people, none of whom asked for compensation. I'm not sure if this was a stroke of luck, or if we just look too darn cute to be harrassed :)
I'm still struggling with the head-turned-chest cold, but that hasn't slowed us too too much. We may save my fancy birthday dinner for another day, but we did go out to the Place Jemaa el Fna - a remarkably lively square FULL of temporary food stalls. They set them up and take them down every night, the prices are reasonable and you eat on benches alongside other tourists and locals alike. It was certainly a memorable birthday dinner! And really the narrow streets are FULL with pedestrians, scooters, cars, and mules and carts. The only thing I can compare the volume of people with in Vancouver standards is Fireworks nights. But it was just a regular saturday night out for these folk. Very cool. And kind of tiring :) Two more nights here and then Paris calls us!
I would love to post some photos, but we can only rely on borrowing card readers (silly me!) so you will just have to use your ol' thinker and imagination until we find the equipment again.
With love and good wishes from Marrakech, L Stomp