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We arose with the rooster to catch our morning flight. The air was still as the sky slowly proceeded from black to a delicate shade of blue. A second rooster joined in from a bit further away. No motorbikes at this hour. Coffee and orange juice and we were off.


A cleancut kid with a faded red cart wheeled our luggage to an awaiting taxi. Shops were closed. A couple of cats scampered by.


A short traffic-free ride to the airport. The morning sun lit up the Mosque and its coral-pink minaret as we passed. We spotted fresh snow in the High Atlas off in the distance.


Many lines and check-points to navigate, but everything went smoothly. Checked in with Royal Air Moroc for our first hop to Casablanca. Exchanged our remaining dirham for Euros. (Morocco has a closed currency and visitors are not permitted to take dirham out of the country. The exchange to and from dirham is tightly controlled and tracked by passport. Very strange system to an outsider.) Pre-security, security, and passport control…like sheep being herded from one pen to the next. And a line for the toilet of course 🙂 Our flight somehow was listed to depart from gates 1, 2, AND 9. Although there is no 9, and 1 was closed. Odd. Either way, we simply boarded a bus to take us out on the tarmac. On time, we took our quick hop to Casablanca. We literally hopped as we landed.


Changed in Casablanca (another security check) to Iberia 3703 bound for Madrid. Christmas tunes played on the speakers overhead as we lifted off from this Islamic nation…an odd juxtaposition to be sure. (Not to mention that it is October. Even Starbucks doesn’t cart out their Christmas decor for a bit.) Snacked on sandwiches and Pringles…and a refreshing pair of Mahou cervezas.


A smooth landing in an overcast, drizzly Madrid. Easy passage through the airport.


Ah, but like a scorned lover, Morocco refuses to be forgotten. My luggage did not arrive…lost to Morocco…at least for the time being.


On to Madrid via a smooth taxi. Rain on the windshield. Madrid looked calm and clean on this lazy Sunday afternoon. Checked into the Westin Palace, celebrating its 100 years as a grand old hotel. They took immediate sympathy on me and sent an “emergency” toiletries kit to the room. And a couple of umbrellas.


We took a leisurely stroll past the Prado museum and had a snack. Then stopped in the Caxia Forum Madrid and viewed two free exhibits. First a show from London’s Tate Modern celebrating the work of William Blake. And then a fascinating exhibit on towers, from the Tower of Babel to the current worlds highest in Dubai…Burj Khalifa. Saw a model of the Sagrada Familia…ah, fond memories of Barcelona.


Rain stopped…stroll continued. A rainbow appeared over the Neptune Fountain. Saw this as a sign, so we stopped for cervezas and some patatas bravas. Wonderful and comforting. Life is grand.


After a hot shower to remove the Moroccan dust, we walked to dinner in a nearby plaza. It was so nice to feel the crisp air on our faces, and rain had left behind sweet smelling air. Dined at the creative DisTinto restaurant. Creative yummy tapas. A twist on croquettas with curry chicken. A wonderful tortilla with ham and cheese. And two types of sliders, both yummy. Really a nice simple meal.


Oh heavenly bed, take me away.

The rain again timed itself perfectly for sleeping. We slept soundly and awoke (again) to clear skies. Another beautiful day in Morocco. And of course another hearty breakfast at the riad.


There aren’t many “sights” in Marrakech like you might find in other destination cities…this is more of a walking/experience kind of city. And it has experience and atmosphere and over the top energy in spades. But today, we anchored our walking with five of the “must-see” sights for any visitor.


Began with the Bahia Palace, with a long tree-filled entry garden followed by the palace itself. Bus-loads of tour groups being led around…mostly French with the occasional Brit. The tour of the palace runs through a series of large inner courtyards with rooms off of each one. No furniture, carpets, or decorations…no signs of life…which leaves you to admire the tile work, the wood and plaster carvings, and the jewels of this building: the ceilings. Truly magnificent wooden ceilings…painted with intricate and delicate detail.


Walking off the beaten path, a rambunctious child leapt up and grabbed Jeff’s arm. Just for a moment. More mischievous than criminal in intent, but disconcerting nonetheless. No sooner had Jeff brushed him off, than a woman swung her purse at the child with a harsh “NO!”. Justice is swift in this it-takes-a-village society.


Next up, an eary royal palace…now basically towering stone walls and an expansive interior consisting of walkways and former sunken floors. We were confronted upon entering by an aggressive man asking to be our guide. When we told him politely but firmly “no” he brusquely told us “Don’t follow me!” to which Jeff replied “What is your problem?”. A terrace along one of the walls provided panoramic views of this edge of the medina. Crane-like birds with huge nests perched on the palace walls.


Nearby, the recently re-discovered Saalidin tombs. Ornately carved interior spaces with marble grave-tops. Grave makers ran lengthwise with the bodies.


Now we made a cross-medina trek, through the main square and through the souks to the Photography museum. Small and difficult to find, but with a pleasant interior space. Black and white photos of Morocco from the early days of photography. Scenes of souks and gateways. Beautiful portraits capturing Moroccan diversity. Beautiful sunny terrace with views of the heart of the medina.


Got wildly confused afterwards. The “helpers” in the medina can sense confusion and nervousness and they pounce: “That way is closed.” “The square is this way.” It’s just a game of confuse-the-tourist, and its hard not to get angry. You cannot stop and look at a map. But we persevered and found our way back to the riad.


Then back out to visit one last site…the Jardin Majorelle. Off in the New City, about 15 min walking from the hotel. This is the grounds of the former Marrakech home of Yves Saint Laurent. Small gardens with odd pairing of plants: spiny succulents next to towering bamboo next to delicate flowering vines. House and flower pots were painted in primary shades of neon blue and yellow and orange.


Back to the riad for a well-deserved beer on the terrace. Two short but relaxing massages. And then a wonderful dinner of beef tangina (a local dish to Marrakech) and couscous. Yum!


Time to pack quickly. Up early tomorrow to fly to Madrid.

The rain ended overnight, leaving behind beautiful fluffy cloud and cool, crisp autumn air. We arose early for a quick breakfast…energy for a long day ahead.


Today’s adventure is a day trip to the town of Essaouira on the Atlantic coast.


We were delighted to be able to re-hire Youssef from Ligne d’Aventure as our guide for the day. He met us, fresh from a day at home and full of smiles.


The road to Essaouira seemed straight as an arrow. Fields of oranges, olives, grapes. We passed a large livestock market…laden trucks dispatched to the far corners of the country.


Flocks of sheep grazing…fattening them before the huge festival in several days. Youssef told us in reverent detail about why and how sheep will be sacrificed by every family later this month. Two million sheep will be sacrificed across the country. Sort of like turkeys at our Thanksgiving, but with a deeply religious meaning.


We started to climb and the land turned arid again. We passed among ridges of eroded rock. Rolling rocky fields stretched to the horizon. A quick pitstop at Cafe Atlas for a drink and toilette.


Entered a region known worldwide for its Argan trees, from which highly sought after oils are extracted. Spas around the world have discovered this uniquely Moroccan tree for producing lotions and oils. Apparently, the nuts of this tree are also desired by goats, which will climb the trees and perch precariously on branches to eat. We stopped at a women’s cooperative promoted by the current King to learn how the nuts are hand cracked to remove two hulls and extract a sliver of a nut. Then nut is then ground into the consistency of almond butter which is left to dry in large clumps that oil is squeezed out. We tasted products to eat and tested oils and lotions for the body.


As we descended the last hill before Essaouira, we paused at a dramatic vista over the city and the Atlantic Ocean. It was at this point that Youssef’s cousin arrived in his Land Cruiser and our friends Lynn and Greg hopped out. It was a wonderful reunion, carefully choreographed by our skillful hosts.


Together, we were introduced to a bubbly local guide–Sayid–as we stood outside one of the four gates to the city of Essaouira. He was a wonderful guide…full of stories. And he truly loved his city. He also spoke passionately about the United States, and the long friendship between our countries. Surprisingly, he had been watching the US presidential debates! He also loved showing Jeff every precise spot from which to get “the best pictures”. He was terrific.


Essaouira is a beautiful seaside city. Once an important port for the country, and still bustling with fishing boats. Tourism seems to have enlivened the city, not crushed it. We felt welcome but witness to real people living their lives as well.


For a few hours, Sayid led us to every corner of the city and its four gates. Each with a different characteristics neighborhood and each with a colorful story. The air smelled fresh from the rain the day before, with a hint of brine and fish from the port. Nearly every building was painted white with blue doors and shutters, the town’s signature color.


Visited two craft cooperatives…one for metal jewelry and the other for woodcraft. No pressure to buy, just proud local artisans explaining what they do. The local shops were less frenetic than anywhere we had been. And much more art focused. Visited two striking examples of restored riads. Winding streets connected by alleys where we ducked our heads. Cobblestone streets mixed with occasional dirt streets…and the occasional mudpuddle.


Lunch at a lovely restaurant with a view of the ocean. We spent the time talking with Lynn and Greg about our travels and adventures. For a change of pace, we ordered simple pasta dishes…pesto and bolognese.


Climbed to the city’s ocean side fortifications. Massive stone walls. Cannons. And the best views of the rocky coast. Huge waves crashed dramatically against the shore. The sky was misty and fragrant with sea spray.


Final stop was the port itself. Fishing boats. Seagulls. Nets. Very vibrant in the late afternoon sun.


We were re-joined by Youssef and said our goodbyes with Lynn and Greg. Heartfelt promises to remain in touch and continue to share stories. Truly wonderful to have made new friends.


We set off for the two hour drive back to Marrakech. We stopped along the road as the sun dipped below the horizon and lit up the dramatic clouds all around us. The remainder of the drive was in swift darkness, broken only by little towns along the way…each bustling with locals.


Youssef dropped us at our riad around 8:30pm. We exchanged email addresses and again parted with a new friend. We would certainly recommend him to any visitor to this colorful country.


Dinner was another simple delight. A mixed salad of vegetables and cheeses. Skewers of seasoned meat. Chicken wrapped around cheese. And chicken cutlets. Crepes filled with chocolate.


The rain returned for the evening. Another beautiful night to sleep.

We awakened this morning by (of all things) a rooster tucked away in some nearby corner of the medina. Otherwise, there were no sounds rising from the medina around us. The sky was heavily overcast, but the cool light breeze was pleasant and calming.


We had a filling breakfast on our terrace. A wonderful omelet, fresh fruit, griddle cakes, and flaky pastries. Jeff fell in love with the strawberry preserve. Coffee perked us up.


Let me just say that the best thing about breakfast (even more than the fresh food) was a warm service. This riad has two visible staff…and they are so, so, so attentive. The benefit of a tiny riad. We can have breakfast wherever we like in the riad, depending on our mood. The staff are there just when you need them with a genuine smile and a helpful hand. Very, very comforting.


With a fresh energy, we headed out into the medina, loosely tracing a scribbled route from the riad to the main square via the souks. I would like to go on record and give Jeff major props for his adventuring spirit. He is having the time of his life barreling through confusing souks, fending off pestering “helpers”, and keeping us in the general direction we want to go. The medinas of Fes and Marrakech have definitely disoriented me…and I am still finding my sea legs. But all adventures make you stronger…which is why I blog to remember the happy times 🙂


The souks of Marrakech have a different character than those in Fes…and they are both special in their own ways. In spite of its narrow winding streets, the souks in Marrakech have a sense of order to them. We seemed to make logical decisions when we came to turns…although we did veer widely from our original course. But a sensible trick is to ignore the pleas of “come this way” or “there is nothing that way” and use your intuition to get out of the souks and then find your bearings on a map. The souks themselves have little in the way of landmarks…covered streets lead to bright stretches. The occasional open intersection is generally crammed with people and shops, making consulting the map almost impossible. But if you are willing to dive in and just walk…at a good pace…then you will see crafts and goods of every ilk. Jeff, of course, spotted a practical item shortly after entering the souks and bargained himself a good price. He is a brave one…bravo! Lamps and leather goods, carefully inlaid tables…and of course spices. I guess everyone wants the spices. We didn’t run across much produce or meats until much later in the day, but when we did, the aromas were quite enticing.


Marrakech’s souks are car-free, but they are definitely not motorbike-free. So, narrow winding streets have bi-directional pedestrians, bi-directional motorbikes, and the occasional wide delivery cart all squeezing between shops with goods spilling out onto the route. This adds an additional bit of frenzy for sure, especially if you throw in the eager salesman trying to call you into their safe haven. Cat like reflexes are advisable. And a nice bit of good karma.


We made our way to the main square of the medina…a crossroads of sorts, since all roads and itineraries eventually want to bring you here. Adjacent to the city’s main mosque (with its prominent minaret that sets a maximum height standard for buildings in the city), the square is bustling day and night, with locals and visitors cross-crossing in all directions.


We crossed the square to re-enter the souks and hit a couple of sights. The first was a medressa…a former school for studying the Koran. The medressa had been well-restored, and its tile work, courtyard fountain, carved woodwork, and detailed plaster work. A two-story warren of tiny stark rooms hugged the sunny, decorated courtyard. These rooms housed students and focused them on their studies. The rooms were grouped around mini-courtyards detailed with intricately carved wood.


Next we visited a nearby art museum, which was really an excuse to see another restored building. A beautiful courtyard had been covered to create a huge interior space surrounded by tiled rooms. A HUGE ornate wood-and-metal light fixture hung in the center of the grand space. Artwork (much of it contemporary) hung in the small rooms off the courtyard. The former hammam of the building with its circular ceiling portals also held pieces of art.


We returned to the riad to drop off our morning purchases…and to refresh with a cool beer on our terrace. The winds have picked up considerably…rain on the way tonight. Purple bougainvillea flowers swirled around the terrace, creating mesmerizing movement and sound to tingle the senses. A haze of dust is visible in our view of the late afternoon skyline.


Watched a line of tiny ants drag a dead fly across the bricks. Yay for the little guy. I hate flies. (Although for the record, there are FAR, FAR fewer flies in Marrakech than Fes or the desert.)


Refreshed, we set back out into the souks for an hour long walk as the sun set. The souks were transforming. Lights came on, and food shops began selling cooked items in earnest. Mixed meats on tiny skewers grilled on tiny charcoal fires. Smells of sweet and savory tangines baking. Fresh bread and eggs sat together on carts. The souks took on a much less frantic pace, although the motorbikes hadn’t slowed down. But the pestering helpers were mostly gone…surely to return tomorrow when the busses bring in the next load of unsuspecting visitors. Colors were much more vibrant at dusk, no longer washed out by the harsh midday sun. Slippers and gowns popped with vibrant colors.


Our first rain (other than the a brief downpour as we drove across the mountains outside of Fes) began as we relaxed at the riad before dinner. A cool steady rain moved us from our terrace to a cozy cubby off of one of the riad’s courtyards. The rain dripped from the high palms in the courtyard, splashing pleasantly. The air smelled crisp and fresh, in contrast with the dusty air this afternoon.


We walked to nearby Dar Zellij restaurant, which came highly recommended by Youssef and our riad. The riad space was beautiful, with ornate painted ceilings and plaster detail. Light fixtures cast dappled light over the room. Musicians played quietly. The restaurant was packed. We ordered a bottle of rosè to go with our meal…Jeff has successfully shown me the virtues of rosè 🙂 Several “salads” started us…wonderfully seasoned vegetable plates (including a delicious pumpkin dish that Jeff picked as his favorite). Chicken couscous and a lamb tangine. A flakey pastry and espresso to finish.


A walk in the rain felt nice after a full meal. We fell asleep to raindrops and a fresh cool breeze.

The rain shower head in our room felt wonderful this morning…hot and invigorating…truly unexpected in the desert. But isn’t that the definition of an oasis? Breakfast was a simple buffet with crepes and pastries and luscious coffee. We dined one last time with Lynn and Greg…truly a delightful couple we hope to keep in touch with after our itineraries diverge.


Lynn and Greg joined us in our return to the carpet shop to see if Jeff could make a deal. Greg (who is from Kenya originally) told me stories of Africa as we looked at objects and jewelry. Jeff and Lynn played hardball with the carpet salesman. I will leave the tale of the carpet sale to Jeff, but suffice it to say he got a very, very good deal.


After the sale, Lynn and Greg returned to the riad to start their drive. We said our goodbyes, hoping to meet them for a drink in Marrakech. We went to a nearby post office to ship Jeff’s new treasures home. A tale in and of itself.


More colorful deserts. More lush oases. What a beautiful country…full of contrasts, but at the same time a harmonious synergy. There is a natural equilibrium at work here. As Youssef stated quite eloquently today: everything has its purpose; if something doesn’t serve a purpose, then it doesn’t exist.


Ouarzazate is a huge home for Hollywood film production. The area provides a dramatic locale for scenes mimicking sites all over the Mediterranean and places as far away as Tibet. Youssef drove us out into the nearby desert to see fake fortresses and walled cities. Catapults and siege towers dotted the land. We stopped and knocked on one of the imposing stone fortresses…hollow. Truly fascinating.


Our first major sight for the day was a UNESCO-protected kasbah…Ait Ben Handou. Youssef found us a rocky vista with views across a wide oasis. The kasbah was dramatically nestled on a hillside above the oasis. Deep brown earthen walls formed boxy buildings that climbed the hill, seemingly on top of each other. We learned that this kasbah was the backdrop for the northern Africa scenes in the movie “Gladiator”…complete with a fake mini-coliseum (now dismantled). The view was breathtaking.


Heading back towards our main route, Youssef gleefully took a “short cut”, which was code for off-roading. We wove up and down thru bone-dry creek beds, following a twisting route.


To reach Marrakech, we had to climb through the Tichka pass, a long winding passage through the High Atlas. As we climbed from the desert below, we watched the mountains transform from reds and browns to almost a gray-green hue. Sun and soil…foliage and minerals…all played brilliantly to produce an ever-changing range of colors. We stopped at precarious overlooks along the route to stare up at majestic peaks, out across fantastic valleys, and down at the zig-zag roads below us.


We passed the top of the pass–the Col du Tichka–at a windy 2260 meters altitude.


Our route down was even more stunning, and we entered a wetter zone where trees and grass greeted us. Tiny villages and tiered gardens hugged every valley wall. Sheep and goats dotted the hillsides, with invisible herders always nearby.


We stopped for a quick bite on the road down. A tiny roadside cafe served an amazing Berber omlette in a bubbling hot tangine.


On the narrow road down, we passed truck after truck laden with live cattle, just-sold in Marrakech and off to butcher in the desert towns we had just left. Such a funny sight actually. The cattle were transported in rickety double-decker trucks…with cattle standing on the top deck. They had better views than the tourists crammed into sealed-up busses!


As we reached the bottom of the pass and flattened into the land approaching Marrakech, olive trees and palms re-appeared. We soon passed golf courses and other signs of the wealth in and around Marrakech. The suburbs of Marrakech were filled with manicured medians and carefully laid out parks. Roses and other flowers surprised us.


We entered the Medina walls…a vastly different experience than the medieval medina in Fes. This is a medina for tomorrow’s adventure and tomorrow’s tales, but our first impressions were energizing yet oddly comforting. The lanes narrowed considerably as we neared our riad. Cars, bikes, and scooters seemed to share the same physical space simultaneously. Throngs of everyday pedestrians, with a notable injection of foreigners. Again…oddly comforting.


The drivable street ended, and we made the last bit of our trek on foot…guided by Youssef and aided by a young teen with a cart to help carry luggage. Narrower and narrower lanes. And finally a non-descript door…the Ryad Dyor…our home for the next few days. We said our goodbyes to Youssef, certainly a new friend. Hopefully we will see him again to take a day trip during our stay.


The riad is very small, but beautifully appointed. It truly feels like a home, as it once was. We met the two young men staffing the riad for the day, and got a helpful orientation to the riad and Marrakech.


7:11pm and we are relaxing on our private rooftop terrace. Sipping a cool rosé in a light warm breeze. An evening call to prayer emanates from minarets all around us, filling the evening with a low peaceful chant.


We had dinner on our terrace…just the two of us and the night breeze. Three wonderfully fresh salad spreads with bread to start. Two piping hot tangines…one with beef and prunes in a rich sauce, the other a moist chicken with citrus and olives. Dessert was a simple-yet-luscious creme brûlée. What a wonderful way to end our long day.