Haggledy Piggeldy
Jan. 22nd, 2015 12:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lupestripeMarrakech is a maddening city - chaotic, insane and incredibly annoying. It's sad to say that I feel like this but the locals have undoubtedly come to realise that there is money to be made out of tourists and try to make that money any which way possible. It's sad as this means you always have to be on your guard, particularly around the souks, and you have to regard every act of kindness with suspicion, which is a world in which I don't really want to live. Sadly, we got stung twice and this made me far more wary, forcing me to tell anyone who approached us "no thank you" in no uncertain terms, an act I would have felt guilty over earlier in the day but which wearied bitterness had reduced me to. The problems were particularly prevalent in the souks, which were rabbit warrens emanating from the main square, Djeema El-Fna. There was no real strategy or purpose to the winding lanes, although each craft (such as leather wear, jewellery and the like) was represented in a particular part of the city. Watching the bustle of people trading and offering their wares was rewarding but we were frequently targeted by salesmen who wanted us to sample their produce, visit their hammam or try their restaurant. It did get exhausting but these weren't the worst - those who followed you around trying to give you directions were annoying, particularly if they started walking with you in the direction you were going anyway and then expecting payment when you reached your destination. On one occasion, someone directed us the wrong way and his friend followed us to tell us of his error and to direct us down the right path, then complained when I only gave him 50 dirham (which is still around £3.50). We had this all day, which was sad as there were genuine people who wanted to help us too, and weeding out these people from the scammers was exceptionally difficult. In the end, we opted to ask shopkeepers or people working generally as they seemed more trustworthy. The former we tended to buy one dirham bread from and the latter were particularly useful when we somehow strayed into the metalworking part of town and we needed advice. They were most useful from the back of their trucks.
As I have already mentioned, we were scammed twice I would say although on both occasions we also got an experience too so perhaps it wasn't too bad and part of playing the game. The first time was outside the Jewish market in Dar Si Said where a man who sells medicinal herbs started talking to us at the entrance. He was pleasant enough and invited us to take traditional Berber tea, for he was a Berber, in his neat little shop. He talked to us about the traditional lotions and potions he had, even allowing us to sample one on the back of our hands which acts like an aftershave if you apply it as a face mask. It certainly made the back of my hand smoother and smelled very rich, like coconut. The tea kept flowing, not the mint tea that's common here, but one made in a proper silver pot with dried fruit that resembled pot pourri and lumps of amber coloured sugar cane. This gave it a nice sweetness and he even gave us a second sample containing dried eucalyptus, of minty flavour designed to cure snoring. No doubt we will find out tonight whether it works. He even gave us two free gifts each, a pottery thing and some toothpicks crafted out of lavender stalks, so of course we felt obliged to buy something. We opted for the tea, thinking it wouldn't be that expensive, and made the mistake of going for a packet each, 700 dirhams lighter and we knew we had been had, but the experience was worth something and really had we just bought one packet between us, it probably would have been fairer value.
The second scam happened at the tanneries, which are right on the edge of the medina such is their smell. A gentlemen noticed we were heading through the winding souk roads - dodging moped riders, donkey drawn carts and cyclists as we went - and as the tanneries are the only thing down there, he successfully deduced what we were up to. Fen recommended going to the tanneries but I didn't think they were a general walk-in affair, believing they were just reserved for tour groups. My plan was therefore to chance it but the bloke we met said he and his family worked in the tannery (whether that's true or not I don't know) and that he would take us. So against our better judgement and as we had nowhere really to hide, he guided us through the maze to the bigger of the two tanneries, the Berber one as opposed to the Arabic one. He introduced us to the "manager" of the tannery, who gave us a sprig of mint to sniff should the stench from the curing leather become overpowering. He then took us on a short ten minute tour of the outdoor complex, pointing out the concrete pools containing the water, lime and dyes needed for the various stages of the process of turning hides into leather. They operate on cow and goat hide and there is no machinery, with everything being done by hand. We saw a fair few people doing just that, piling up hides or dipping them into the pigeon poop ammonia substance which strips the fat off the hide and softens it. This was why the smell was pretty bad although it wasn't as overwhelming as I thought. We also saw some good finished quality hides hanging to dry but I was more interested in dodging the puddles as I didn't want some caustic fluids on my shoes and jeans. We even saw a puppy drinking out of one of the puddles - silly puppy! The tour ended, typically, in the shop (which to be fair had an excellent view over the whole tannery and the mosque which was that of the business and it's employees) where we met a man called Ahmed who tried to sell us some of the wares produced on site. They were all very nice, particularly the leather couches which expand to become nifty bags but they were all so expensive and clearly for the tourist trade. I did buy a belt for 300 dirham, feeling obliged to pay something as we had not paid for the tour and the shop had two huge metal doors making escape somewhat difficult, but Ahmed wasn't very happy with this and insisted we haggled on a price for the bags. We declined and left, leaving him in something of a grump, but he did get the last laugh as the "manager" then caught up with us on the street and demanded money for the tour. We gave him another 300 dirham, 100 less than what he requested, but the whole experience did leave something of a sour taste.
Adding to my negative view of the city was the abundance of snakes, an animal of which I am petrified. I expected some on Djeema El-Fna, the large square, as this is where the snake charming takes place but I was expecting them inside baskets not just lying in the middle of the square. There must have been around 15 of them, in three piles next to someone who presumably owned them. There was the unmistakable sound of the horn in the distance and I did see one snake rising up to react to it but largely they were just there in piles slithering about. This wasn't the first snake we saw though, this was near the Koutoubia Minaret where a man was holding two of them. I didn't see them until they were just in the corner of my eye literally as I was passing them, with an orange one levitating in mid-air ambulating towards me. I shat myself, it was horrendous and the stuff of my nightmares, resulting in me being on tenterhooks for the next hour or so. It was like Odessa all over again. I thought I could deal with the snakes and was damned if I was going to miss an integral part of the culture here but it was all too much to me and we had to leave the square rather quickly. The fact that we were continually hassled by stall owners urging us to try their food, as delicious as it smelled and sounded, made the square not a particularly enjoyable place to be, which was a shame as the atmosphere was quite lively and the aromas intoxicating. Apparently the performances here, including belly dancers, musicians and over 100 chefs which move in to take over the square is so good it has made the UNESCO World Heritage list but alas by early evening we were so sick of being hassled that we opted to head to the Ville Nouvelle for an element of sanity, heading to one of the very few bars here for a drink along the way (indeed bars of any type, even non-alcoholic ones, seem to be a novelty here - it's either restaurants or nothing). In the guidebook we noticed that the Ville Nouvelle had better restaurants than downtown so we opted to take a look, settling on one which served Moroccan cuisine and which looked quite busy. Sadly there was no beer here but we did manage to get some delicious tagine - in my case camel, which was tough and stringy, very much like tongue. The bread this was served with - like all bread here - was divine, flat and soft in the middle but crunchy on the outside. The bubbling sauce inside the earthenware pot highlighted that this was a good quality meal and although I did have to cut off some fat and a suspicious tube from my camel meat, it was quite tasty. We then did a little exploring before calling off at one of the few bars we had seen, in the grounds of a hotel, for a nightcap before heading back to our place. We saw a little bit of English football - the Capital One Cup match between Tottenham Hotspur and Sheffield United - before leaving, forgetting our 700 dirham tea in the process and necessitating the waiter to run down the street after us to return it. We had left a handsome tip - probably odd for just two beers, the same local ones we tried at the hotel the night before but these were on tap so tastier - but we will definitely have to return, if only to try their seventh floor roof terrace bar with fantastic views over the city.
Ironically, the most peace we got was when we were actually in the tourist sites, particularly the museums which were all fascinating and supremely excellent value for money. Granted, some of them had an unfinished air about them but many of them were just ten dirhams (73p) making them the best value for money experiences I had ever got while abroad. Our first museum was down near Dar Si Said, the Bahia Palace, which has exquisite floor to ceiling decoration. Begun by the Grand Vizier Si Moussa in the 1860s and added to between 1894 and 1900 by Abu Ahmed, it became a high authority residence under the French in 1911. Only a small portion of the building is open for tours but what is open is stunning, with it's beautiful ornate wall patterns cut directly into the stone and its intricate patterns painted onto the wooden doors and window covers. Although the palace is rather spartan, the wooden ceilings so carefully painted do show an element of opulence, particularly in the harem, which once housed Ahmed's four wives and 24 concubines. Those of his favourite, Lalla Zineb were particularly opulent, with rose motifs, panels, weaves and stain glass windows. In the gardens there was a harem of cats, one with a gammy red eye, who observed us as we sat on a stone ledge to rest. The whole area was surprisingly quiet, an oasis of calm in this mad city, and it was a pleasure being there.
One advantage of not speaking French particularly well is that you can wizz around the museums far more quickly than you could otherwise do. This was the case a few times here, particularly in the Museum of Moroccan Arts inside Dar Si Said. This contained the oldest object in Marrakech - a chest from AD 1002-1007 which was placed right in the entrance. Of more interest were the range of local crafts on show, with arms in one room, a few carpets in another, embroidered textiles in another and so on. There were a few musical instruments here along with a Ferris wheel for children, with little wooden boxes like confessionals set on a horizontal axis. This building was a little more plain but did showcase the range of craftsmanship which is present in this city, while the exquisite courtyard with its pagoda set amongst orange and banana trees was almost a tropical paradise in the heart of the city.
For a place known as the pink city, you would have thought that I would have taken to it more but the streets were so challenging with people, mopeds, donkeys and scheisters that you always had to have your guard up. Even in some of the museums, this was the case, with people offering to write your name in Arabic calligraphy and the like. Perhaps we should have hired a tour guide to protect us but I hear they have commissions with some shops too so spending money is probably unavoidable. Anyway, our next stop was the Ali ben Youssef Medersa, once the most magnificent Quranic school in North Africa. It is highly mosaic (zellij) with intricate stucco, with a truly breathtaking courtyard at its centre. The school is symmetrical in design, with the quarters almost like prison cells such was their cramped nature. Each room had two floors and there were two stories to the school, which was founded in the fourteenth century and is still one of the most magnificent of its type in the world. Balconies of mashrabiyya (wooden lattice screens) punctuate the sides of the courtyards while, even though the living quarters are plain, the intricate stucco doorways add a sense of grandeur. In the courtyard itself there is a huge Hispano-Moresque theme with five colour mosaic walls, stucco archways and cedar windows. The white marble mihrab (eastern facing niche that highlights direction of Mecca) is equally splendid. There is a nearby mosque affiliated with the school but as all mosques are closed to non-Muslims, unfortunately we could not view it.
Next door to Ali ben Youssef Medersa is the Musee de Marrakech, set in the grounds of the former Mnebhi Palace. It's cavernous inner courtyard, with a huge inverse golden chandelier at its centre is divine while the columns around its perimeter boosts the feeling of space here. The tiled floor adds to the wonder while down the sides of the room are displayed some traditional Moroccan items including musical instruments (one sitar had a moustachioed face while another looked like he was sticking his tongue out), some traditional costumes and some traditional jewellery and face adornments, which were probably the most fascinating things in the museum, apart from the very dodgy English translations of some of the French descriptions. It was also here that we saw a picture that looked like the Jimmy Savile family. The building was clearly a palace and even had space for a harram, with signs depicting the three traditional room temperatures of cold, tepid and hot. Nowadays, this is a gallery displaying average contemporary art, to which we gave a cursory glance.
Our final stop was the Maison de la Photographie, containing a range of fascinating photographs of Morocco from the 1880s onwards. Many were from the 1930s and 1940s, with one of the highlights being a 1957 colour documentary on the Berbers of the High Atlas, filmed one year after Moroccan independence. It was all in French, so difficult to follow, but it was a fascinating window into another life and another world. Another highlight was the panoramic view of Marrakech from the third floor terrace bar - a bar at which we sat for ten minutes but no one was forthcoming to serve us. It was a great view over low pink painted roofs, demonstrating just how much of a labyrinth this city is. We didn't envy being back in it trying to find our way out, with a variety of locals trying to help us along the way. To be fair to them, most of them were helpful and we did feel a little bad about dismissing some people's alternative suggestions, even if they had been genuinely trying to be helpful. Unfortunately though this city is exhausting and its pace and people can wear you down, to the point that I don't know if we'll venture back into the centre again. We'll see how we feel another day.
As I have already mentioned, we were scammed twice I would say although on both occasions we also got an experience too so perhaps it wasn't too bad and part of playing the game. The first time was outside the Jewish market in Dar Si Said where a man who sells medicinal herbs started talking to us at the entrance. He was pleasant enough and invited us to take traditional Berber tea, for he was a Berber, in his neat little shop. He talked to us about the traditional lotions and potions he had, even allowing us to sample one on the back of our hands which acts like an aftershave if you apply it as a face mask. It certainly made the back of my hand smoother and smelled very rich, like coconut. The tea kept flowing, not the mint tea that's common here, but one made in a proper silver pot with dried fruit that resembled pot pourri and lumps of amber coloured sugar cane. This gave it a nice sweetness and he even gave us a second sample containing dried eucalyptus, of minty flavour designed to cure snoring. No doubt we will find out tonight whether it works. He even gave us two free gifts each, a pottery thing and some toothpicks crafted out of lavender stalks, so of course we felt obliged to buy something. We opted for the tea, thinking it wouldn't be that expensive, and made the mistake of going for a packet each, 700 dirhams lighter and we knew we had been had, but the experience was worth something and really had we just bought one packet between us, it probably would have been fairer value.
The second scam happened at the tanneries, which are right on the edge of the medina such is their smell. A gentlemen noticed we were heading through the winding souk roads - dodging moped riders, donkey drawn carts and cyclists as we went - and as the tanneries are the only thing down there, he successfully deduced what we were up to. Fen recommended going to the tanneries but I didn't think they were a general walk-in affair, believing they were just reserved for tour groups. My plan was therefore to chance it but the bloke we met said he and his family worked in the tannery (whether that's true or not I don't know) and that he would take us. So against our better judgement and as we had nowhere really to hide, he guided us through the maze to the bigger of the two tanneries, the Berber one as opposed to the Arabic one. He introduced us to the "manager" of the tannery, who gave us a sprig of mint to sniff should the stench from the curing leather become overpowering. He then took us on a short ten minute tour of the outdoor complex, pointing out the concrete pools containing the water, lime and dyes needed for the various stages of the process of turning hides into leather. They operate on cow and goat hide and there is no machinery, with everything being done by hand. We saw a fair few people doing just that, piling up hides or dipping them into the pigeon poop ammonia substance which strips the fat off the hide and softens it. This was why the smell was pretty bad although it wasn't as overwhelming as I thought. We also saw some good finished quality hides hanging to dry but I was more interested in dodging the puddles as I didn't want some caustic fluids on my shoes and jeans. We even saw a puppy drinking out of one of the puddles - silly puppy! The tour ended, typically, in the shop (which to be fair had an excellent view over the whole tannery and the mosque which was that of the business and it's employees) where we met a man called Ahmed who tried to sell us some of the wares produced on site. They were all very nice, particularly the leather couches which expand to become nifty bags but they were all so expensive and clearly for the tourist trade. I did buy a belt for 300 dirham, feeling obliged to pay something as we had not paid for the tour and the shop had two huge metal doors making escape somewhat difficult, but Ahmed wasn't very happy with this and insisted we haggled on a price for the bags. We declined and left, leaving him in something of a grump, but he did get the last laugh as the "manager" then caught up with us on the street and demanded money for the tour. We gave him another 300 dirham, 100 less than what he requested, but the whole experience did leave something of a sour taste.
Adding to my negative view of the city was the abundance of snakes, an animal of which I am petrified. I expected some on Djeema El-Fna, the large square, as this is where the snake charming takes place but I was expecting them inside baskets not just lying in the middle of the square. There must have been around 15 of them, in three piles next to someone who presumably owned them. There was the unmistakable sound of the horn in the distance and I did see one snake rising up to react to it but largely they were just there in piles slithering about. This wasn't the first snake we saw though, this was near the Koutoubia Minaret where a man was holding two of them. I didn't see them until they were just in the corner of my eye literally as I was passing them, with an orange one levitating in mid-air ambulating towards me. I shat myself, it was horrendous and the stuff of my nightmares, resulting in me being on tenterhooks for the next hour or so. It was like Odessa all over again. I thought I could deal with the snakes and was damned if I was going to miss an integral part of the culture here but it was all too much to me and we had to leave the square rather quickly. The fact that we were continually hassled by stall owners urging us to try their food, as delicious as it smelled and sounded, made the square not a particularly enjoyable place to be, which was a shame as the atmosphere was quite lively and the aromas intoxicating. Apparently the performances here, including belly dancers, musicians and over 100 chefs which move in to take over the square is so good it has made the UNESCO World Heritage list but alas by early evening we were so sick of being hassled that we opted to head to the Ville Nouvelle for an element of sanity, heading to one of the very few bars here for a drink along the way (indeed bars of any type, even non-alcoholic ones, seem to be a novelty here - it's either restaurants or nothing). In the guidebook we noticed that the Ville Nouvelle had better restaurants than downtown so we opted to take a look, settling on one which served Moroccan cuisine and which looked quite busy. Sadly there was no beer here but we did manage to get some delicious tagine - in my case camel, which was tough and stringy, very much like tongue. The bread this was served with - like all bread here - was divine, flat and soft in the middle but crunchy on the outside. The bubbling sauce inside the earthenware pot highlighted that this was a good quality meal and although I did have to cut off some fat and a suspicious tube from my camel meat, it was quite tasty. We then did a little exploring before calling off at one of the few bars we had seen, in the grounds of a hotel, for a nightcap before heading back to our place. We saw a little bit of English football - the Capital One Cup match between Tottenham Hotspur and Sheffield United - before leaving, forgetting our 700 dirham tea in the process and necessitating the waiter to run down the street after us to return it. We had left a handsome tip - probably odd for just two beers, the same local ones we tried at the hotel the night before but these were on tap so tastier - but we will definitely have to return, if only to try their seventh floor roof terrace bar with fantastic views over the city.
Ironically, the most peace we got was when we were actually in the tourist sites, particularly the museums which were all fascinating and supremely excellent value for money. Granted, some of them had an unfinished air about them but many of them were just ten dirhams (73p) making them the best value for money experiences I had ever got while abroad. Our first museum was down near Dar Si Said, the Bahia Palace, which has exquisite floor to ceiling decoration. Begun by the Grand Vizier Si Moussa in the 1860s and added to between 1894 and 1900 by Abu Ahmed, it became a high authority residence under the French in 1911. Only a small portion of the building is open for tours but what is open is stunning, with it's beautiful ornate wall patterns cut directly into the stone and its intricate patterns painted onto the wooden doors and window covers. Although the palace is rather spartan, the wooden ceilings so carefully painted do show an element of opulence, particularly in the harem, which once housed Ahmed's four wives and 24 concubines. Those of his favourite, Lalla Zineb were particularly opulent, with rose motifs, panels, weaves and stain glass windows. In the gardens there was a harem of cats, one with a gammy red eye, who observed us as we sat on a stone ledge to rest. The whole area was surprisingly quiet, an oasis of calm in this mad city, and it was a pleasure being there.
One advantage of not speaking French particularly well is that you can wizz around the museums far more quickly than you could otherwise do. This was the case a few times here, particularly in the Museum of Moroccan Arts inside Dar Si Said. This contained the oldest object in Marrakech - a chest from AD 1002-1007 which was placed right in the entrance. Of more interest were the range of local crafts on show, with arms in one room, a few carpets in another, embroidered textiles in another and so on. There were a few musical instruments here along with a Ferris wheel for children, with little wooden boxes like confessionals set on a horizontal axis. This building was a little more plain but did showcase the range of craftsmanship which is present in this city, while the exquisite courtyard with its pagoda set amongst orange and banana trees was almost a tropical paradise in the heart of the city.
For a place known as the pink city, you would have thought that I would have taken to it more but the streets were so challenging with people, mopeds, donkeys and scheisters that you always had to have your guard up. Even in some of the museums, this was the case, with people offering to write your name in Arabic calligraphy and the like. Perhaps we should have hired a tour guide to protect us but I hear they have commissions with some shops too so spending money is probably unavoidable. Anyway, our next stop was the Ali ben Youssef Medersa, once the most magnificent Quranic school in North Africa. It is highly mosaic (zellij) with intricate stucco, with a truly breathtaking courtyard at its centre. The school is symmetrical in design, with the quarters almost like prison cells such was their cramped nature. Each room had two floors and there were two stories to the school, which was founded in the fourteenth century and is still one of the most magnificent of its type in the world. Balconies of mashrabiyya (wooden lattice screens) punctuate the sides of the courtyards while, even though the living quarters are plain, the intricate stucco doorways add a sense of grandeur. In the courtyard itself there is a huge Hispano-Moresque theme with five colour mosaic walls, stucco archways and cedar windows. The white marble mihrab (eastern facing niche that highlights direction of Mecca) is equally splendid. There is a nearby mosque affiliated with the school but as all mosques are closed to non-Muslims, unfortunately we could not view it.
Next door to Ali ben Youssef Medersa is the Musee de Marrakech, set in the grounds of the former Mnebhi Palace. It's cavernous inner courtyard, with a huge inverse golden chandelier at its centre is divine while the columns around its perimeter boosts the feeling of space here. The tiled floor adds to the wonder while down the sides of the room are displayed some traditional Moroccan items including musical instruments (one sitar had a moustachioed face while another looked like he was sticking his tongue out), some traditional costumes and some traditional jewellery and face adornments, which were probably the most fascinating things in the museum, apart from the very dodgy English translations of some of the French descriptions. It was also here that we saw a picture that looked like the Jimmy Savile family. The building was clearly a palace and even had space for a harram, with signs depicting the three traditional room temperatures of cold, tepid and hot. Nowadays, this is a gallery displaying average contemporary art, to which we gave a cursory glance.
Our final stop was the Maison de la Photographie, containing a range of fascinating photographs of Morocco from the 1880s onwards. Many were from the 1930s and 1940s, with one of the highlights being a 1957 colour documentary on the Berbers of the High Atlas, filmed one year after Moroccan independence. It was all in French, so difficult to follow, but it was a fascinating window into another life and another world. Another highlight was the panoramic view of Marrakech from the third floor terrace bar - a bar at which we sat for ten minutes but no one was forthcoming to serve us. It was a great view over low pink painted roofs, demonstrating just how much of a labyrinth this city is. We didn't envy being back in it trying to find our way out, with a variety of locals trying to help us along the way. To be fair to them, most of them were helpful and we did feel a little bad about dismissing some people's alternative suggestions, even if they had been genuinely trying to be helpful. Unfortunately though this city is exhausting and its pace and people can wear you down, to the point that I don't know if we'll venture back into the centre again. We'll see how we feel another day.
