Don't Forget Your Earplugs!

The overnight train ride to Marrakech was suprisingly very good. We were in a compartment of 2 sets of bunk beds, and it was very clean and quite comfy. Our travel companions were a British bloke and an Irish woman (she was a teacher too) and they were also spending the school holidays travelling around to see what they could see of Morocco. Their plans were a little more adventurous than ours as they were intending to hopefully get into the Atlas mountains, maybe do some hiking, but if not, then just to experience Moroccan culture outside of the big cities. If we had more time, perhaps we could also do this, but alas, we don't.

The view from the train

Now with a title like "Don't Forget Your Earplugs" you may be thinking that this post is about my inability to sleep on this train journey due to the man's snoring, or something similar. This is partly correct - I didn't get any sleep on the train - but it wasn't because of the man's snoring or anything - he amazingly didn't snore! I suspect my lack of sleep may either have been from the general noise of people getting on / off the train at all hours, or the noise in the stations as we pulled in and waited indeterminable yet excruciating lengths of time for incomprehendable reasons before the train would move on again (surprisingly, that didn't affect our arrival time - we arrived in Marrakech bang on time!). No, I don't know why I didn't get much sleep, but for whatever reason, I arrived in Marrakech feeling like I'd just gone several rounds in the ring with Lennox Lewis, or something! Eeech...

Anyway, we arrived in Marrakech and set off for the Djaama El Fna, the main square, where we hoped to find a hotel. We tried to get the bus into town but the drivers in Marrakech are like the ones in London - if they think the bus is too full, they won't let you on - so we had to walk, with all our luggage, for the best part of 30 minutes or so. We could've got a taxi, but we'd been ripped off the day before by a bloke in Tangier, with whom we'd negotiated the price beforehand (as you are supposed to do) but because we didn't have the correct coins, he said he didn't have the correct change - and as he already had our note, we ended up paying way more than we should have. Seeing as we still didn't have any coins, there wasn't really any point.So we hoofed it. It wasn't a bad walk, it was actually quite nice to see a bit of the city - but as I've said before, whoever is the cartographer for Lonely Planet should be ashamed of themselves. Or at the very least, sacked. That book has the most ridiculous maps, incapable of actually showing you where you should be going - and that's in the main section, you should see what drivel they dish up for wandering the souqs!Eventually we found Hotel Foucard (or something like that, I forget the name) which was mentioned in the Lonely Planet as one of the cheaper ones near to the square. The room was pretty dingy but we had our own ensuite and the price was good - 350dirhams for the room per night, that's like £15 each or something. So we dumped our stuff, got cleaned up and headed off in search of that Moroccan staple: a cup of mint tea..

We had a lovely day in Marrakech, exploring the souqs, the square, the Medina. It was really good. Surprisingly, unlike in other Middle Eastern / Arabic countries, if you walk through the souqs the stall owners pretty much leave you alone. I don't remember it being like that before - usually it was "pretty lady, look my shop" - and then they would harrass you til the cows came home if you tried to walk away from the stall. This was so bad (particularly last year in Damascus) that you didn't actually dare to look to the left or right in case it looked like you were looking at their shop. But there was none of that here in Marrakech. About the only hazard in walking through the souqs were the guys on their motorbikes, whizzing up and down - or the guys with the donkeys carrying supplies.

And the souqs were pretty varied too, not just your usual spices or pottery, but everyday toiletries and items like that - and in one we saw carpenters actually making the stuff, or engravers working on a tile or something, and even in one place we saw like a motorbike mechanic type stall. Everywhere you went there was something different to see. The place is like a maze though, and the Lonely Planet map being a pile of rubbish, well, we got lost several times. Particularly the next day, when we went looking for the Ben Yousef Medersa - and you don't dare ask anyone for directions because they'll take you there and then expect payment. Although we did eventually ask one woman who was just so sweet, she took us as close to it as she could and didn't demand any money.
I have to say though that my favourite place in Marrakech is the Djaama El Fna - the main square. The sights, sounds and smells of the Djaama change throughout the day, and it really livens up by the evening, with snake charmers, musicians, dancers, food stalls (we had a lovely tagine at one of them), ladies wanting to do henna and so on. The only problem here is if you show an interest in something, pretty soon the performer gets up with a basket and demands money of you (and occasionally the locals standing around watching, but usually the westerners are targeted first). We spent a lovely evening in the square just enjoying the food and the atmosphere, it was fabulous.

The square by dayThe square by night

So, tired but happy, we made our way back to the hotel and headed off to bed. My dreams were filled with snake charmers, dancers, drummers - and then rudely interrupted by an ear-shrieking, intensely piercing, wailing siren-like noise at something like 4 or 5am. What on earth is going on?

Aaaalllllllaaaaaahhhhhhhh - the thing droned on like a man being strangled! It was the mosque next door, summonsing people to early morning prayer - the thing wailed on for what seemed an absolute eternity!  At the crack of dawn too!  What kind of place is this?

I later found out that's its not just on Fridays (apparently a Muslim holy day) this awful racket at the crack of dawn happens - its EVERY DAY OF THE WEEK!!!! 

All I can say is, if you're thinking of going to Morocco - DON'T FORGET YOUR EARPLUGS!