We arrived in Marrakech after a hot, semi sleepless night rattling through the Moroccan countryside. Hot, grimy and weary we were delivered to our hotel which cheerfully stored our bags but refused to let us into our rooms until the day was a little older.
“Who wants to go on a four hour walking tour of Marrakech?” asked our guide.
“No” I whimpered.
“Yes,” said everybody else.
So off we went into the depths of Marrakech. We passed by the oldest mosque in the city which is right next to the ruins of what would have been the oldest mosque in the city if they hadn’t demolished it immediately after construction. Mosques are supposed to be aligned so that the faithful can face towards Mecca when they pray. Unfortunately the architect got his calculations a bit wrong so they replaced it with a new one. Unfortunately the architect overcompensated for his original mistake and this one isn’t properly aligned either. Rather than build a third they redesigned the interior so that prayers could be accomplished appropriately. They also stuck an iron structure on the roof pointing in the appropriate direction. Local legend also claims this is what the Sultan hung the architect from after botching his calculations twice.
Once past the geographically challenged mosque we headed into the old town. While we were there I broke a palace. In my defence it was a very small break and the palace was very large. We managed to leave before anyone noticed.
For the record the palace was a beautifully laid out structure with exquisitely decorated ceilings. There were handsome gardens and open courtyards with fountains (one of which may now be a little bit damaged). It was truly a palace fit for a king. It will probably come as no surprise to learn it actually belonged to a grand vizier.
Having been hastened away from the palace before I could do any more damage we returned to the Medina presumably on the assumption that any damage there would go unnoticed. People tried to sell us things, sweat rolled into my eyes (and pretty much everywhere else) and I stumbled blindly on. Eventually the tour ended and we caught a bus back to our hotel which graciously deigned to let us enter.
That evening we had dinner at a rooftop restaurant overlooking the main square. Above street level it was confusingly chilly a situation which lasted precisely until we returned to ground level. Our dinner was enlivened by the call to prayer as it turns out there was a mosque literally next door.
After my introduction to both Marrakech and heat exhaustion I planned a lazy day but eventually wound up accompanying one of my tour comrades to visit the Jardin Majorelle a beautifully created garden right next to the Yves Saint Laurent museum. Saint Laurent didn’t create the garden but acquired it and essentially turned it into a design showcase. I took a photo of frogs in one of the ponds.
Being more of a performance piece than an actual park you can’t just wander around. You have to follow a specific set path that will take from the entrance to the inevitable gift shop at the end. Any deviation from this route would see you set upon by park security who were significantly more numerous and fitter than the park employees I’m used to.
At the end of the park was a small museum housing Berber jewellery which I popped into because it was included in my ticket.
What was not included in my ticket was entrance to the YSL Museum. This was by design as my interest in Yves Saint Laurent pretty much begins and ends with the garden. My companion took herself along to be immersed in all things fashion while I repaired to a convenient cafe for an appropriately overpriced sandwich.
As far as culture goes Cindy I’m afraid that’s the best I can do.
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