Flying into Marrakech, I peered down from my window to a sea of red.  Rather, a designer might call it ochre.  Many moons ago the French mandated that all buildings in the city be kept uniform in this color, and for some reason it has stuck to this day.  It was fascinating to see, indeed. 

I wandered up to the Moroccan immigration and customs services window to quickly discover a xenophobia never before seen in America.  You think we fear terrorism, racially profile, or fear outsiders?  Go to Morocco, where they trust no one.  I took a solid 15 minute grilling where I implored the gentleman behind the booth that I am a backpacker with no address within the country, planning to tour around and find a hostel once I enter the city.  It took a minute, but he reluctantly stamped my passport and sent me on my way.  I picked up my luggage and headed over to the ATM to pick up some “Dirham”, the local currency.  For travelers not in the know, currency changers will rob you blind.  Your best bet for commission free transactions are ATMs or Credit Cards.  I pushed my card into the machine, and I got the dreaded “Transaction Cannot Be Processed” banner.  ARRRRRRGGGGGHHH Chase “Fraud Protection” does it again!  Screwed!

Before you ask, YES I DID call ahead to Chase the last 3 times they froze my account and told them up and down that I would be in Morocco within 2 – 3 days, and to allow my transactions.  I was specific that if anything oddity led me to believe my card had been compromised, I would call in immediately.  Once again, true to form, Chase Bank left me smack in the middle of North Africa with barely any cash to my name.  Add to the mix that my French has dwindled to nil since leaving Canada as a child, and that I do not speak a lick of Arabic, and the fun begins!

I wander the streets aimlessly with my 60 lb pack riding my back, walking in circles like a fool with the stamp “Tourist” figuratively tattooed on my forehead.  Much like my home in Los Angeles, if a person so much as said a polite word to me and made the mistake of acknowledging them, I would then be followed and accosted as they offered me the hard sell on their “services”, ranging from food and massages, to internet cafes and drugs.  All I had in my favor was the Spanish language, when I happened upon a “guide” who spoke Spanish, French, and Arabic.  He was all I had, so I took his “services”.

My parents love American Express Traveler’s Checks, and I happened to have a few burning a hole in my pocket.  We decided to try our hand at converting them at any one of a few banks locally.  Try we did.  Remember what I said about xenophobia?  Well, let’s say there were some trust issues brewing here.  Apparently my chicken scratch signature did not match up to the nanometer by their standards, and it took some heated discussion to convince them that I was in fact me.  I finally got my money, and I hit the internet café to find a hostel.  Net result, traveler’s checks suck, and so does xenophobia…lol.

You’d think I would game plan a little harder considering I am headed to strange far off places, but there’s no fun in that…lol.  A quick look through on hostelworld.com found Equity Point Hostel.  Beautiful pictures, 95% rating, this had to be the one!  Now, time to map it.  Using Google Maps in Morocco is hilarious!  The directions literally read:

“Find Argana restaurant and look to your left.  When you see the arch in the corner head towards it.  Follow it to another smaller arch and walk the path to the Berber Shop on the corner.  Take a left, then follow it to another arch….” and so on and so forth.  No street names at all, just oddball landmarks, like taking back country roads in Tennessee.

I looked into the town square (also known as Djemaa el Fna, but we’ll call it the town square) and realized this would be no easy task.  Here I am in the Medina Quarter, or “Old City”, and it was time to suck it up and make my move.  I grabbed my “guide” and told him to find me the hostel.  We arranged a fee, and off we went.  It didn’t take long until we were wandering through cavernous little streets, tunnels, and out of the way, dank, dark places – scary.  As we walk, people creep up on us.  Gangs of young boys, first one, then two – am I headed to a trap?  I stop in my tracks and demand my map back.  My heart raced.  I was surrounded.  All I could think was the words, “Take what you want, just leave me my memory cards from my camera, and my passport… Please!”  I stood surrounded, and one of the kids chimed in, “You are looking for Equity Point, no?  I find for you.”  I wasn’t quite ready to trust a gang of teens offering to lead me into the darkness.  He saw my trepidation and waved off all his friends and said, “Please, you come.”  What choice did I have?  I followed him through a maze.  He looked a bit lost.  We come upon this ornate, but somewhat nondescript door in a dark alley and he knocks.  The door opens to a gorgeous villa.  I had arrived!

Equity Point was gorgeous in a classic Moroccan way.  It held beautiful arches, decorative tile, and wood workings.  Colorful interiors were accented by a large courtyard and a beautiful lounge with a computer and couches and Arabic accent pillows all across the floor.  This place was perfect for lounging.  I booked a few days on the spot.  I hung out around the hostel, grabbed dinner, then turned in for the night.

The following morning, I awoke early.  I took my guitar up to the rooftop and strummed a few Police and Stevie Wonder tunes and relaxed.  People slowly trickled in for our breakfast of Cream Cheese, Moroccan Sweet Breads (not sure what they are called), Coffee, and Orange Juice.  I chatted up my table, had a few good laughs, and traded travel tales.  A few of my new friends raved to me about Budapest.  Earlier the previous day someone had told me about an airline called Wizz Air that was new and specialized in low fares to Eastern Europe.  Ahhhhh Haaaaa!  I smell another adventure!  However, I digress.

In walks this guy who seems to be life of the party.  Everyone knows him and seems to love him.  After a while, he wanders over to my table and strikes up a conversation.  He introduces himself, Paul, and continues to tell me that he plans a 10 hour excursion to 4000 meters in the Atlas Mountains tomorrow.  “Do you want to give it a go?”  I can’t say I wasn’t hesitant.  He points out a small, slight figure sitting at an adjacent spot, and tells me, “That guy over there did it yesterday.  If he can do it, you know you can do it.”  Try and remember this detail when the story flashes forward to the actual trek, it’s worth recalling.  Somehow, that logic appealed to my caveman senses, and I agreed. 

Wandering Marrakech

Now it’s time to taste the city.  I spent the rest of the day with a fiery Polish girl named Susannah who took me to the Souks to search out the magical spices of Marrakech.  The Souks are part of the Jewish Quarter of the city, and feature all the goodies that make the famous foods of the Mediterranean and Middle East so magically delicious.  Miles and piles of colorful powdered spices, incense, sweet aromas, and amazing foods cooking as far as the eye could see, lined up throughout the bazaar.  Susannah made a few purchases, and this is where I witnessed her fire.  The girl took it to the locals in warrior princess fashion.

If there’s one lesson to learn in Marrakech, it’s that haggling is a full contact sport over here.  Through several newfound friends I vicariously learned just how tough we had to play.  We saw it all.  Almost every restaurant would purposely make mistakes on the bill hoping we wouldn’t notice.  When we did notice, they would fight us tooth and nail hoping for attrition and extra payment.  It’s worth noting that the less proper restaurants we tried had abandoned sanitary practices altogether.  We sat down and noticed the bus boy wiping off the used silverware with a napkin and placing it back on the table for the next patron.  We gagged pretty hard and left in a hurry.

I managed to offend a bunch of locals by insisting they place my purchase and my change on the counter while I place my payment down.  Nice and slow, so we can make the exchange.  “You don’t trust me?” they would say.  All I could respond with was a smile and to say, “Hey man, it has nothing to do with that.  I don’t know you yet that’s all.”

Walking through the square we bumped into a few folks from the hostel and decided to try one of the nicer spots in the square, pony up, and get a clean and proper experience.  We went to check out the famous Morrocan Tagine.  A tagine is a clay pot with a dome that allows for a sort of convection cooking process that steams the spice laden meats and veggies to soft, melting, savory goodness.  If that explanation isn’t enough, here is a Wickipedia link for you:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tajine#Moroccan_Tagine .  My first experience with this Moroccan delicacy, and it was thoroughly pleasurable.  The best way to follow up such savory goodness, on a hot North African day is to hit the café and get some Moroccan Mint Tea.  The shocker of this mint tea is although it is served piping hot, it actually manages to cool a person down in the dry, sweltering heat.  Surprising how something so hot, sweet, and rich tasting to the palette can cause such a wonderful cooling sensation.  Mint tea is to a hot summer’s day, what sipping brandy is to a cold winter’s night.

Sitting at the café, acrobats and storytellers come around to entertain and hopefully make a little extra scratch from tourist donations.  We had some fine young Moroccan dancers perform high jumps, flips, and some routines that reminded us of Hip Hop back home.  Truly the result of YouTube, as I had observed many young Moroccans surfing both Arabic and American fare in the Internet cafes.    

From our respite, we made our way onward to the Palais El Badi.  Like everything else in Marrakech, the Badi stood in ochre glory.  From its upper stories, I delighted at the gorgeous city views.  The Badi was erected in 1578, and the remnants show the former luster of what was once a 360 room oasis in the middle of the desert, offering shimmering pools, and finery on par with the greatest marvels of the Middle East.  

We wandered the city and Koutobia Mosque, with its long structure towering in the background over the square.  Pass by during late afternoon prayer in this month of Ramadan and you will hear the call to prayer blasting through the loudspeakers that line the structure.  The sound offers quite an awakening. 

The day wound down at the Bahia Palace, where I enjoyed the sprawling gardens and intricate carved woodwork alongside rich ceramic tile work.  While not as storied or ancient in its pedigree, this 19^th century structure offered a relaxing place to tour.

Hookah club closed out our day.  Believe you me, alcohol isn’t rare in Marrakech, but it can be hard to come by.  Bars try not to flaunt themselves, especially in the month of Ramadan.  Hailing from Los Angeles, you can find a hookah lounge every five feet, however, doing the hookah in the Middle East just added a certain cachet to the moment.  A great way to unwind before tomorrow’s epic.

Some old photos from a trip to Morocco in March!

]]> http://mplbelgique.wordpress.com/2009/11/23/beyrouth-veut-redevenir-une-vitrine-du-luxe-du-moyen-orient/ Mon, 23 Nov 2009 16:29:07 +0000 dodzi http://mplbelgique.wordpress.com/2009/11/23/beyrouth-veut-redevenir-une-vitrine-du-luxe-du-moyen-orient/

Iloubnan.info

Détrôné par Dubaï au fil des ans, Beyrouth compte redevenir une destination privilégiée pour le luxe au Moyen-Orient, avec l’implantation de grands noms tel Dior ou Louis Vuitton, et des “souks” modernes qui offriront le nec plus ultra du shopping.

 

“Play it for me, Sam. For old time’s sake.”
“Play it, Sam. Play ‘As Time Goes By.’”
From the movie, Casablanca

Rick’s Cafe Amercain, exists only in the movies, but you’ll be glad you went to Morocco anyway.
It’s a fascinating mix of conservative Islamic traditions and liberal French ones, creating a looseness not characteristic of other Arab countries.

The sky is impossibly blue, set off by towering mountains and vivid yellow lemon trees. But it’s Morocco’s Souks that sum up this still vibrant country.

Crowded, overpowering, magical outdoor market places with names that seem to come from the movies – Marrakech, Fez, Tangier, and Chechaouen, Souks are streets that twist like a crazy argument, jammed with stalls and linked by corrugated tin roofs, straw or flapping tent tops. Everything is sold or bought : camels and spices; herbs and fine wrought gold ornaments. Forty or 50 burlap bags filled with red, green, yellow and ochre spices lie on royal blue cloths. Painters have tried for years to capture these color. The spice sellers hands are dyed red with paprika and maroon with henna.

Behind the spices are cascades of olives – black, green, red and yellow, some stuffed with red peppers; others cast a sheen of deep purple. Brilliant yellow lemons and red pomegranates complete the picture.

Berbers bring wool for the famous Jalabas woven here, and tea sellers jangle their silver cups as they walk past the thumping mallets of bronze makers.

The Souks define the term, “creative chaos,” and are an unforgettable experience.

Moroccan Tourist Bureau (212-557-2520) www.kingdomofmorocco.com

A 40 km au Sud de Beyrouth, la ville portuaire phénicienne a su préserver des souks traditionnels. Au détour des petites ruelles, on trouve encore tous les styles d’artisans.

After returning to Rabat from El Jadida to regroup and repack, we spent the next four days in three cities and a total of 20+ hours on the train. The first stop: Marrakesh known as the red city since all the buildings are a soothing terra cotta color giving the whole city a serene feeling. Surrounded by the majestic Atlas Mountains, it’s also home to the famous Jemma el Fna Sqaure. But, could we really take it all in with less than 24 hours there? Yes! Here’s how…

We woke up early to make it to the 8 a.m. train, and were almost on time until we ended up leaving the house a few minutes too late. We did get on the train just a few moments before it was about to take off. Along the way, the landscape showed us olive groves, pumpkin patches and rows of carmose. The winter rains made plenty of hay which was stacked in field after field as the train moved closer to the hills. I couldn’t wait to show my parents the huge mountains, but in the summer, they are covered in thick clouds and it’s as if they don’t even exist. We arrived and found a taxi driver to take us to the Golden Tulip Farah Marrakesh. The grand taxis were asking for 40 DH, but we found a guy with a van who took us for 30 DH. We were starving, but all hotels require you to fill out paperwork, and then they couldn’t seem to find our reservation. I booked online directly through their website and when they finally used my confirmation number, they found us. It seems we got an upgrade in the process, because I reserved a superior room, but we got placed in a two-floor bungalow!

Our original plan was to drop off our bags and head to Jemma el Fna for lunch at Cafe Toubkal before heading back to the hotel to relax by the pool. Unfortunately, the hotel is a little further away from the Square than we thought, so we opted for lunch by the pool, a swim and a nap. Yes, we ate hotel food in Marrakesh! The sun was shining so we spent a few hours lounging before taking hot showers in the hotel room and finally making our way to the Square. It was about a 40 minute walk with a stop to get my dad up on a camel. We passed the Koutoubia Mosque and crossed the busy streets to finally reach the hustle and bustle. Snake charmers, monkeys, belly dancing boys, henna ladies, and all greeted us with their hungry eyes. We tried some of the fresh squeezed orange juice, a requisite, before heading into the maze of souks for some shopping.

We decided on a horse drawn carriage ride because it was a little too early for us to eat dinner. This is also an affordable must for seeing the rest of the city, especially when you are short on time. A 45-minute ride is only 125 DH, and the ride prices are regulated now so you don’t have to haggle with the drivers. Along the way you’ll pass the Koutoubia Mosque, travel through the tight streets of neighborhoods out into the wider lanes of the main roads and passed a few little gardens before passing the gates of the Palace in Marrakesh. Don’t try to take a picture there!

Finally ready to eat, we braved the tents in the middle of the Square to find a place to eat. This is also a required stop on a Marrakesh visit. Whether you want to try escargot or sheep’s brain, or just have a meal of delicious little dishes, you must take a seat at one of the tables. You’ll immediately be served with bread, dipping sauces and olives. (They will charge you for this in the end, but it’s worth the few extra DH.) We ordered tangia, one of Marrakesh’s main dishes, seafood and mutton brochettes with salad and complimentary mint tea. If you can stand the heat, try a cup of khedenjal, a hot spicy tea that’s like drinking a cup of melted red hot candies from one of the stalls on the outer edges of the tents. Feeling stuffed, we walked it off with a few circles around the square before heading back for the long walk to our hotel. We were beat when we finally arrived to cool air conditioned rooms and crisp sheets.

We decided to take the very earliest train to get a head start to Fes in the morning so that was all we saw of Marrakesh. But honestly, we felt we really did take advantage of the short trip seeing all the things any guide book recommends. If we had one more morning, a visit to the Yves Saint Laurent garden and lunch at Cafe Toubkal would have topped it off perfectly.

All date stamped pictures are credited to my dear dad!

Yes, Steve and I rocked the Casbah and Marakesh is still crazy after 1,000’s of years…
Some observable distinctions from 37 years ago:
The existence of “Riads” as an alternative to fancy hotels or small b&b’s~ one or two homes combined several levels Moraccan style with a common area in the center, open top and a rooftop terrace. The rooms are AC and charming, the owners where we stayed, Riad Sophia, are gracious and speak English and French. We enjoyed a delicious traditional dinner there the first night and breakfast in the mornings.
The main square in the old section, in the middle of the Souks, is now paved and many tables are set up for meals at night.
We found the stall owners much less aggressive in souks. I remember feeling so intimidated back in the day, that I clothed myself in a long woolen jaloba with a hood and wore sunglasses. I passed as a boy and wasn’t bothered.
The motorbike population has grown enormously, including women in traditional garments of berkahs(long robes) and hijabs(head coverings) often with helmets, riding among the organized chaos of motorbikes, cars, buses, bicycles, donkeys with carts and of course, pedestrians.

Fim de Tarde no Madinat Jumeira…

Sheesha Lounge com Corona a acompanhar…

Marrakech had a rusty, tan color and was a very flat city, aside from the mosques looming in the distance

Though my first week of spring break adventuring through Western Europe was an incredible experience, nothing could compare to what my friends and I had in store for our final days of break. From the moment we decided to study abroad, a few friends and I had made a pact to travel to Morocco. This didn’t involve just planning a trip but coordinating a meeting of friends studying all over the world. Though I had high hopes that the trip would become reality, I secretly figured that it would never actually happen. But believe it or not, it did!

Our group of 6 landed in Marrakech Tuesday afternoon and even stepping off the plane we knew we were somewhere unlike anything we’d experienced before. The entire country just felt different. It smelled different, looked different, sounded different. Though it was a bit of a culture shock at first, we immediately embraced the new and exciting.

Immediately leaving the airport we learned that they do things differently in Morocco. Just catching a cab proved to be a test of our bargaining skills and luckily we had our friend Ken who has been studying in Cairo and could use his Arabic to win us points with the cab driver.

We were dropped off at Djemaa el Fna, the central squar in the middle of the Medina, and pointed in the direction of our place. Unfortunately his directions weren’t the most helpful in the maze-like streets that we found ourselves walking down.

About 30 minutes and 5 sets of directions later we finally made it to Riad Rahba. A riad is a traditional Moroccan house with a central courtyard or garden. Because of their size, many have been turned into accommodations for visitors. Our riad was nice and decorated in traditional Moroccan décor, and they even had a rooftop terrace with beautiful views of the city. 

The view of Djemaa el Fna from a terrace café

During our first afternoon of sightseeing we decided to stay close to home and explored the Djemma el Fna, the main square in Marrakech. In the afternoon it was full of tourists, street performers and fruit stands selling fresh squeezed orange juice. We were also right near the Souks, the merchant stalls built under tin roofs that formed their own winding streets of brightly colored bowls, tea sets, rugs and Moroccan sweets. 

We then headed out to the Kasbah, in the southern end of the Medina, and stopped inside a government-owned artisan craft shop. There, a woman showed us how to use a loom and gave each of the girls orange yarn to tie around our wrists. One of the workers also made comments to the boys about how we were pretty and good picks for marriage, which we were soon to discover was a common topic of discussion.

I had been worried that 3 very American looking girls would run into some problems in Morocco, but we actually had very few problems. We all made an effort to dress conservatively and the most common remark was something along the lines of “You’re beautiful” or “I love you.” We also each received an offer of a 4,000 camels in exchange for marriage. Not too shabby if you ask me? With offers as appealing as those, it’s a surprise I made it out of Morocco without an engagement. 

That first afternoon we ended up back near the Djemaa el Fna and drank tea at a café overlooking the square. It was fun to watch as the sun set and the square transformed into a huge bazaar. There were tents full of delicious smelling food, tea and oranges; street performers with monkeys and snakes or guitar-like instruments called ouds; and people (both tourists and locals alike) milling around everywhere. It was definitely a sight to behold and we made a point of eating traditional Moroccan soup and couscous in the square later that night. We also watched the street entertainment and Ian, Jessie and Kari even got pulled into one man’s magic act. 

La Koutoubia, the central mosque in Marrakech

That next morning we explored La Koutoubia, the central mosque, but were disappointed to learn that we were not allowed inside (even though all the girls had made an effort to cover up and bring headscarves).

Though a little bummed, we quickly rallied for the central event of our day, a trip to a traditional Moroccan hamam, or steam bath. We arrived with an hour left for the women’s bathing time so the three girls went first, and let’s just say it was quite the experience.

First we were led into a dimly lit room with white lounging chairs and a calming atmosphere. Then a woman came in and demanded that we remove all our clothing. A little nervous, we did what we were told and followed her into another room and rubbed down with various goo. We were then led into a sauna and told to sit there. So we sat, marinating for quite a while before they came back to get us. We were then each led to a table and completely scrubbed down, from head to foot. The amount of dead skin they removed was impressive! After, we were covered in a new, brown substance and sent back into the sauna. Though the sauna felt great at first, the heat eventually got to us so we were removed and put into showers to rinse ourselves off. Then we were led back into the first room, given fluffy bathrobes with funny pointed hoods and warm tea to drink while we relaxed. Needless to say the 3 of us became much closer during our hour in the baths. It was a lot of fun and our skin felt wonderfully smooth when we were done.

Our group meet up after the baths to visit one of the palaces before dinner. First we stopped off at the Tombeaux Saadien, where many of the ancient kings are buried. What I found most interesting was that none of the tombs were marked, which is very different in comparison to Western style graves with elaborate nameplates and decorations. We also visited Palais la Bahia, a beautiful structure completely abandoned and empty. Unlike Versailles or the other European palaces, we could roam free through the place and explore to our hearts content without worrying about expensively restored furniture or wall hangings. 

That night we decided to mix things up and headed out to Nouvelle Ville, the more modern section of Marrakech outside the Medina walls. And what a different there was! We felt like we’d stepped into a tropical version of Paris, or a fancy desert resort in the U.S. Even the restaurants there were too pricey for us to eat dinner! While I’m glad we saw it for comparison, I actually preferred the Medina area. It felt more real and less like a facade built for wealthy French tourists. 

Then he had yet another delicious meal of Moroccan bread, couscous and other common dishes before turning in early. Though my stay in Marrakech wasn’t entirely finished, 4 of our group got up early the next morning to catch a 10 hour bus ride to Fez. I had one more full day in Marrakech to do any final sightseeing before I was to catch a night train to Tangier for the final leg of my trip. But more on that to come soon.

The inside of Palais El Bahia. The way they use Arabic writing in the decoration of the walls is absolutely beautiful.

Every day in Morocco potter’s hands mold the burnt orange clay, wheels turn and ceramic bowls bake in the heat. It’s a daily process.

In the villages, woman head down to the river bank to dig the moist clay from the earth. Retracing their steps back home with full woven baskets. A heavy load. The clay drips. Water stains the dry dirt.

Morocco is well known for its wide range of ceramic pottery. The pots are generally used for daily life, a large number are bought by tourists, while others are exported over seas. Pottery also lines the souks, hand painted with fine detail, deep colors and a variety of hand spun designs.

The city of Fes is known for producing high end pottery with an array of colors and sparkling glaze. Tamegroute produces pottery inspired by Fes designs. The kilns of Tamegroute are built into the steep slopes of the countryside. Tamegroute is known for its distinct green and brown glaze.

Tamegroute has been a religious center since the 11th century. The Nasiriyya brotherhood brought the native techniques and green enamel from Fes to Tamegroute, assembling merchants and craftsmen to raise the status of the city.

The pottery cooperatives is a great attraction for tourists visiting the Zagora region. Pottery is made and bought on the spot at the cooperatives. Some of the village roofs of Tamegroute and other regions are also tiled with the green ceramic clay. When the sunlight streams down, the green roofs glisten against the stone city.

The green glaze is made from a combination of magnesium and copper. The ceramic pots and dishes with this glaze are waterproof. A trip to the pottery villages is a great way to get inside the local culture of Morocco, to experience some hands on work, and take home a sustainable and “green” souvenir.

Blogs Filed Under:
Travel Morocco’s Pottery Cooperative, Pottery Lessons in Morocco, Morocco, Celebrate Moroccan Pottery, Morocco Travel, Tours to Morocco, Morocco Tourism

Travel Exploration specializes in Morocco Travel. We provide Tours and travel opportunities to Morocco for the independent traveler and tailor-made tours for families and groups with a distinctly unique flavor. From Morocco’s Seven Imperial Cities, to the Magical Sahara Travel Exploration offers a captivating experience that will inspire you. At Travel Exploration we guarantee that you will discover the best of Morocco! Google on call Travel Exploration at (917)703-2078 and let’s book a tour to Morocco for you today.

A manha foi passsada na zona mais tradicional do Dubai…

Andei com a minha irma e cunhado a passear pelos souks onde eles aproveitaram para fazer umas comprinhas…

Fomos nos barquinhos do Rio Creek até Deira onde também lá andamos a passear pelas lojas…

É só escolher, 10 Dirhams, ou seja, 2 euros…

A tarde inda deu para ir até à praia aproveitar um pouco o sol e calor dubaiense…

E assim se passou o dia, beijos e abraços…

Moroccan carpets are famous around the world. In the West, the tightly woven beige Berber rugs are found in most modern homes, schools and offices. Although these rugs are stain resistant their dark flecks of brown and tan do not compare to the thousands of intricate designs and colors of the traditional Berber carpets of Morocco.

Styles

Traditional Berber carpets contain distinctive patterns and colors and are woven from sheep wool or camel hair (you can also find them made from nylon and olefin material). The materials are hand-washed and naturally dyed from saffron yellow, to wild mint green, and from pomegranate and henna. These carpets are known for their strong geometric designs, and have been dated them as far back as the Merinid era. Carpets in the Middle Atlas generally have a traditional diamond grid.

Climates

The Berber tribes developed a variety of weaves to be adaptable to different climates. The rugs in the mountains have larger loops, are more loosely knotted to provide protection against the cold. In warmer climates the rugs are made with a finer weave. The carpets in the Middle Atlas were used as sleeping mats, and in regions with mild climates knots tend to be 2cm high.

History

Berber weaving is highly dependent on the female culture, and is passed down traditionally within the home. The young apprentice is expected to learn the the different looping techniques, patterns, color ranges and motifs. Historically women wove carpets for their families, and men traditionally produced carpets that were more specialized as professional masterweavers. These inspiring designs have been motivation for more modern carpet fabrication.

Historically carpets where a preferred gift for people in elite social classes and where used to adorn palaces and other sacred places. The more urban carpets have also been used at prayer mats and rugs in the hammam. Travelers who are interested in Berber carpet weaving should check out the Weavers Cooperative, and the Berber Carpet Demonstration, a famous exhibition. Some ancient Haouz rugs are also preserved in museums such as the Dar Batha Museum. These intricate rugs can be purchased from the tribes themselves but also in the winding souks of Fes, Marrakech and Rabat.

Haouz

Carpets originating in the hills and plains of the Haouz region do not tend to follow traditional designs or rules. In this region, the weavers stress the freedoms of the individual throughout the composition. The carpets have a distinctive style and are often captivating works of art.

Art Form

The bold colors, in depth patterns and weaving techniques of  different regions have their own distinct style. Each tribe has a signature pattern and commonly unfold a story, revealing acts of ceremony, or designs that often relate to fertility and protection. Like any other type of abstract art, interpretations can be better guided with additional knowledge of the culture, songs and legends.

Travel Exploration specializes in Morocco Travel. We provide Tours and travel opportunities to Morocco for the independent traveler and tailor-made tours for families and groups with a distinctly unique flavor. From Morocco’s Seven Imperial Cities, to the Magical Sahara Travel Exploration offers a captivating experience that will inspire you. At Travel Exploration we guarantee that you will discover the best of Morocco! Google on call Travel Exploration at (917)703-2078 and let’s book a tour to Morocco for you today.

Monday, March 23.

I’ve left the Todra Gorge with good memories, clean laundry …

And the driest throat EVER.

For me, this usually means I’m going to get a cold. Several other tour-mates are having similar symptoms. Liz already has a cold. I’m just hoping it’s a temporary by-product of the climate we’ve been in.

The first place we hit after leaving Todra is a souk in a local town. Anything you can think of is being sold here - clothes, old electronics, spices, shoes, underwear, jewellery. I even saw an old handle being laid out for sale. What it USED to be attached to, I can only guess.

I’m not even remotely in the mood for this. I’m feeling a touch crappy. The LAST thing I want to try and do is barter with ANYONE for ANYTHING.

Sally and I pass by this one guy hawking his wares, and of course, he immediately starts chatting me up, because I’m from “the family.” This is the one thing I note about travelling through this part of the country: people who look more like me, using this fact to try and get me to buy something.

The “something” in question is a door-knocker in the shape of a hand, which apparently an antique. The “salesman” next to the guy we’re dealing with tries to get us going with the bartering process. But Sally doesn’t have enough money, and I’m turned off, so we walk away. 

But it’s only a matter of circling the place before Sally decides to return so she can take a second look at that door-knocker. The salesman tries again for a sale. What he’s offering, Sally doesn’t want to pay. And what Sally has in terms of cash, the salesman doesn’t want.

Meanwhile, one of the nearby merchants latches on to me, trying to entice me. My heart’s only half in it, but I settle on this wooden bowl – again, supposedly antique – with a gold-coloured Tuareg design inlaid in its centre.

The vendor offers it to me for 750 DH (about $108 CAD); I barter him down to about 500 DH ($72 CAD), all the time wondering what on EARTH I’m doing buying a wooden bowl for that much money.

(Note: Writing this now – about four weeks after the fact - I’m looking it, STILL wondering what I was thinking. And the thing smells like either burnt wood or smoked fish … as stinky as the day it arrived home.)

Sally also successfully scores the door-knocker – for a third of the price! I’m impressed.

We make our hour-long lunch stop in the town of Ouarzazate (pronounced WAR-zah-zat). It’s generally known as a movie town, because of the movie set nearby that’s been used for big Hollywood productions.

I will remember Ouarzazate for the only pedestrian traffic signal I’ve seen on this trip so far. I’m not even kidding. It’s been so long since I’ve seen one, I almost forget how to use it. 

After lunch, we re-group and head over to a non-profit organization called Project Horizon, which is sponsored by the tour company’s charitable foundation.

As we move from area to area – and with Alex’s superior French translation skills – we discover the organization does things from creating prosthetic limbs, to providing therapy for people with physical disabilities and children with developmental disabilities, to running workshops where people create various types of pottery, jewellery, carpets and other artisanal work.

By the time we reach the gift shop, I can’t NOT buy something. Even though early on in the trip, I’d told myself I wouldn’t buy a tajine bowl (because I wouldn’t be able to lug it home), I manage to find a beautiful decorative mini-tajine bowl, glazed a deep, dark blue, for 70 DH ($10 CAD). Not only it is completely reasonable, it’s totally worth it, knowing what the money is going towards.

We leave Ouarzazate, making no more major stops until we reach the town of Aït Benhaddou, where we’re staying overnight.

The maison d’hotes (guesthouse) we’re staying at is run by a man whose real name I don’t remember, but everyone calls him “Action Couscous” (see picture at left).

He lives there with his other family members, including his sister, wife and four-year-old son Abdullah, who’s nicknamed – what else? – “Baby Action”.

Action’s fun moniker is the result of having been an extra in at least 10 Hollywood films. It’s his on-screen credits that he uses to promote his guesthouse …

And, as we find out, it’s also probably the reason he doesn’t appear to be camera-shy whatsoever.  In fact, he LOVES being in front of the camera and encouraging pictures whenever he can.

Action welcomes us to his huge desert abode with some tea. Alex also has her royal blue scarf tied professionally by  Action, Berber-style.

After getting our room assignments, most of us decide to  check out the huge kasbah on the other side of the river.

(As I’ve now learned, Aït Benhaddou is also known as a ksar - a fortified city – and it’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site.)

Again, I find myself paired up with Sally, and we make our way over to the river.

The path leading to the river is lined with shops and aggressive salesmen, who  know EXACTLY where we’re staying. Before I left on my trip, I was told about how ridiculously observant Moroccans are. I didn’t believe it until this particular moment.

Sally and I are by the river’s edge within three or four minutes.

There are two ways to cross the Ouarzazate River:

(1) by donkey for a small fee; or

(2) by foot, through the river water, for free.

Guess which one Sally and I pick?

AAAAAAARRRRRGHHHHHH!

The nerves in my bare feet are cussing at the nerve endings in my brain as I unsteadily wade over bumpy rocks and pebbles, through excruciatingly cold water, trying not to drop my sandals.

I kick myself for not taking option (1) when, halfway through my painful crossing, I look up and see our driver Abdul already on the other side, dismounting from a donkey.

Dammit.

Once we cross and put our shoes back on, we begin our climb to the top. The place is absolutely HUGE. And apparently only now inhabited by about five or six families.

The way up is a bit treacherous in spots, because some stairways are covered by crumbling plaster and huge bits of rubble.

But the view once we reach the very top is worth every step, twist and turn we’ve had to take. It’s simply breathtaking.

On the way back to the guesthouse, I get sucked into a local shop and, once again, end up practicing my mediocre haggling skills.

This time, I purchase an alabaster ring for 125 DH ($18 CAD), and get two pictures of myself posing with the store owner, me dressed in traditional Berber garb. It’s quite funny.

At 7:30 p.m., Action Coucous and one of his sisters gives us the group a demonstration on how to cook tajine and couscous, the old-fashioned way.  Then it’s to the dining room, where we have our choice of veggie or lamb tajine. I am so unbelieveably stuffed I cannot even think of touching any of the bottles of beer I had purchased earlier.

We while away the rest of the evening playing a couple of card games. Following this, Grace decides she needs her bangs trimmed, so Will elects to play barber – with some hilarious results. He does get the bangs evened out, with Nikki’s help.

I go off to bed, hoping to fight off the scratchy throat and blocked nostril I’ve developed during the day, but knowing full well what’s going to happen.

Hoje foi um dia em grande!!!

Começou logo cedinho porque era preciso estar às 10h da manhã na Mesquita de Jumeirah que era a hora que começava uma visita guidada que abre as portas da mesquita e onde se explicam os costumes da religião muçulmana, desde as rezas, das roupas, dos ideiais… OPEN MINDS, OPEN DOORS!!!

Purificação antes de uma das 5 rezas por dia…

O nosso calçado à porta da Mesquita…

A reza…

Foi uma visita bastante interessante e enriquecedora, nem que seja para ter um outro ponto de vista da religião…

Depois seguimos em direcção ao Bastakya que fica perto do Dubai Museum…

Antes de irmos ao museu aproveitamos para comer algo no Basta Art Café e passear pelas ruelas estreitas a emitar uma cidade arábica de outros tempos… A proxima paragem foi então no Museu do Dubai.

Feira de artesanato arabe nas ruelas da Bastakya…

A tarde já ia a meio quando passamos pela rua das maquinas fotograficas e pelos souks tradicionais… Depois seguiu-se a travessia para a outra margem do rio creek e visitamos os souks das especiarias e do ouro…

O passeio seguiu para o mercado onde compramos ameijoa e camarao fresquinho para o jantar…

O dia foi cansativo mas produtivo, cheguei a casa de rastos mas o jantar soube mesmo bem para recompor as energias.

E assim acabou o dia de folga a passear pelo Dubai Tradicional!!!

Ser guia em 24h foi um novo desafio… lol

O dia começou bem cedo, por volta das 8h da matina já estava a sair de casa em direcção ao Dubai Museum, por lá combinei com o Filipe, um amigo que aproveitou as quase 20h de escala que fez no voo entre Londres – Japão, para conhecer um pouco desta cidade arabesca…

E acho que deu para sair de cá com uma ideia geral da vida dubaiense…

A manha foi reservada a parte historica, iniciando o tour no Museu do Dubai, seguiu-se um passeio pelos souks tradicionais e a travessia do rio creek para a zona de Deira, onde vimos os Souks do Ouro e das Especiarias…

Acabada a visita turistica na zona mais arabesca, seguiu-se para a parte consumista do Dubai, fomos dar uma volta ao Emirates Mall, o tal shopping com a maior pista indoor do mundo e por lá almoçamos…

Ao inicio de tarde regressei a casa para descansar um pouco e depois o roteiro turistico seguiu até ao Madinat Jumeira com a Silvia e o Bruno também a juntarem-se, já recompostos do Jet Lag… O lusco-fusco assistiu-se no bar 360, sem palavras… É fantastico o final de tarde naquele bar.

A noite o jantamos fora num dos restaurantes mexicanos aqui das redondezas e depois fomos até ao bar aqui do hotel, o Mai Tai para ver o jogo do Porto com o Manchester, ou terá sido para ver o Cristiano Ronaldo a marcar mais um golo brilhante… ;P

Bou dormir… BOAS NOITES

After crashing her car in Italy, Lizzi Thomson of Bristol, grabbed a pack and some friends and continued traveling. Determined to feel the rhythm of a different world she headed to Morocco. After backpacking around Europe and one sleepless night in the Czech Republic, kept up by a man with night terrors and endless snoring she found her self settled under the stars in Marrakech.

“Morocco was a different story. Everyone stayed in Hostels. We slept on the rooftop terraces, under the stars. My favorite thing about sleeping outside was the call to prayer during the night, it was eerily peaceful,” said Lizzi.

“We spent every night on the roof, luckily it never rained but there was a tent that you could go under if it did. It was so warm, and the hostels were really nice. We only stayed in a hotel one night, after a midnight train ride,” said Albert Testani of Connecticut.

Albert, while studying at University of York, also took advantage of the opportunity to travel. Albert backpacked around Spain, France, India and Morocco. Spending time diving into each culture. While hitch-hiking in France was the most adventurous, hopping trains through Morocco was a guaranteed way to make friends.

The trains were great once you figured out how to read the signs in Arabic. According to Albert, getting around in Morocco was fairly easy and inexpensive. “With a bargaining culture there is no such thing as a fixed price,” he continued. As an insider to the bartering system he often got away with a cheap ride, thanks to the Lonely Plane Guide.

“In Marrakech there is so much to do, going to the Medina was a massive party every night,” said Albert.” We experienced (a more intimate) Moroccan culture in smaller cities like Fes, and Chefchaouen and Tangier. In the smaller cities you could blend with life more.”

The only trouble was getting lost in the maze-like cities. “It’s quite tricky to get around, the streets are rather winding. Anyone you ask for directions will know your a tourist by your Caucasian skin… we often would end up on a long elaborate tour, waving to all their friends houses,” said Lizzi.

It was a sea of clay and terracotta buildings. “We would wonder around, one day we found a woman sitting cooking, there were a lot of locals eating there… We got a massive meal for 2 dirhams. The Medina was filled with kabob stands, and fresh orange juice, which according to Albert “was amazing!”

For readers interested in backpacking in Morocco, make sure to check out some of Morocco’s adventure sports.

Travel Exploration specializes in Morocco Travel. We provide Tours and travel opportunities to Morocco for the independent traveler and tailor-made tours for families and groups with a distinctly unique flavor. From Morocco’s Seven Imperial Cities, to the Magical Sahara Travel Exploration offers a captivating experience that will inspire you. At Travel Exploration we guarantee that you will discover the best of Morocco! Google on call Travel Exploration at (917)703-2078 and let’s book a tour to Morocco for you today.

Stuffed with almond paste, dusted with confectionery sugar and flaking with each bite, Moroccan pastries are reserved for special occasions. Cooking is regarded as an extravagant art. Large meals are prepared for births, circumcisions, weddings and many holidays. Just after the main dish, pastries take their course to add a sweet touch before the seasonal fruit is served.

As a Guest

Travelers that have the opportunity to stay with a Moroccan family will experience a breakfast for kings. The host family traditionally will serve a variety of pastries for breakfast: Rghaif (flat buttery Moroccan pastries), Stenj (Moroccan doughnuts), French pastries (croissants), along with Bayd (eggs, cooked with cumin and sesame seeds), orange juice or coffee.

Pancakes

Pancakes are a traditional breakfast food as well as a sweet treat in Morocco. On holidays they are adorned with honey, icing, sugar, butter or a rich almond paste. Baghrir pancakes are fried in hot oil, with dot-like air craters on on side.

History

These succulent Moroccan sweets were once only served to the sultans, Islamic leaders, and the elite. When spices were as prized as gold, lower classes were rarely able to partake in such indulgences. Now, when neighbors and friends come together during their afternoon break they enjoy the company with a pot of mint tea and pastries.

Souks

The smell of fresh pastries linger through the city streets. All throughout the maze-like souks vendors sell a wide range of Moroccan sweets. A savory dish, native to Morocco, is bastila, a multi-layered pastry filled with shredded chicken or pigeon meat gently and brushed with a lemon-onion sauce and covered in almonds, cinnamon and sugar. Other flaky croissants are served with warm honey, apricot or other jams.

All Shapes and Sizes

Moroccan sweets come in all shapes and sizes, generally pastries are light and healthy often made with nuts. Some are long and thin, others round- filled or hallow. Gazelle horns, a crescent shaped treat is of the most famous Moroccan sweets. Check out the recipe below!

Recipe: Kaab el-ghzal (gazelle horns)

serving size: 16 pastries

bake until lightly golden at 350 degrees F

1 3/4 cups of flour

2 tbsp. melted butter

2 tbsp. orange flower water

2 large egg yolks, beaten

A pinch of salt

Icing sugar

Almond Paste:

2 cups of finely ground Almonds

1 cup icing sugar

2 tbsp. orange flower water

2 tbsp. melted butter

2 egg yolks beaten

1/2 tsp. cinnamon

Directions: Combine all the ingredients for the almond paste in a bowl, stir until smooth- divide paste into 16 pieces.

Take each piece and roll it into small cylinders (7cm long)

In another bowl, combine flour and salt, melted butter, orange flower and one egg yolk, add cold water to form a soft dough. Kneed for ten minutes, roll out into a thing rectangle- then cut into strips.

Place the almond paste on each pastry, spacing them 3 cm apart. Fold in half to seal the paste. Moisten both sides of the pastry with the remaining egg yolk and a small amount of water. Cut each pasty into a crescent shape, place on a buttered and floured baking sheet.

Travel Exploration specializes in Morocco Travel. We provide Tours and travel opportunities to Morocco for the independent traveler and tailor-made tours for families and groups with a distinctly unique flavor. From Morocco’s Seven Imperial Cities, to the Magical Sahara Travel Exploration offers a captivating experience that will inspire you. At Travel Exploration we guarantee that you will discover the best of Morocco! Google on call Travel Exploration at (917)703-2078 and let’s book a tour to Morocco for you today.

Wednesday, March 18.

Before this trip, I was given one piece of advice, should I ever find myself in Fez, especially in the medina: Prepare to get lost.

On the morning of our only day in Fez, I come pretty close to making this a reality.

I oversleep, and end up rushing around to get ready so that I can catch the group’s laundry run and grab some breakfast before our tour starts for the day.

My stomach rumbling, I reach the front lobby, only to have the man behind the front counter say, “The group just left.”

Still a bit foggy-headed – and a bit panicked - I ask, “Which way did they go?”

The desk manager says they’ve gone out the door and turned left onto the main street.

I set out into the breezy Moroccan morning, striding – and carefully trying to cross the street – thinking I can actually can find them and catch up to them.

After about three blocks, reason finally takes over, and I stop and turn around, since I’ve absolutely NO CLUE where I’m going.

I remember my way back to the hotel, in time to see the others standing in the small front lobby.

So I miss out on both laundry and breakfast.

Soon enough, our minivan arrives – with our tour guide, a Fassi woman named Hakima. (Fassis are residents of Fez.)

First stop on the tour drops us in front of the Royal Palace. We’re not allowed in, so we’re just outside the front gates. That’s okay, though – surrounding us are seven of the prettiest doors – made of cedar and embossed with gold colouring – that I’ve ever seen.

There are also a couple of other tour groups milling about, so I’m fighting for clean photos of the doors, and the guards in ceremonial garb (which is all different, by the way).

From there, Hakima takes us through a souk and then into a medersa (religious school). We stand in the courtyard, looking at the beautiful tiling and woodwork. Off to the side, a couple stray cats lie down for naps in the sun.

Coming out of the medina, we pile into the minivan, which takes us up and away from the main town, to a spot with a great panoramic view of the three parts – the old, the new and the Mellah (Jewish quarter) – that comprise Fez. Will also gets a visit from a four-legged friend – a resident stray dog that he gives a little food to as a greeting.

We then head to a ceramics factory, where a man named Abbas takes us around, showing us the processes – and people – involved in making the great pottery we’ve been starting to see wherever we go.

We see a man in a pit of grey water and clay, clad in a dark cap, rolled-up pants and a shirt rolled up to his upper biceps, sorting through the soft clay, separating what’s “good” and “bad”. It’s obvious his clothes were once white; his work has dirtied and darkened them to a greyish shade.

We see men sitting on the floor, cutting and shaping. Potters spinning clay into tajine bowls and lids on their wheels. Young people  hand-painting the designs onto plates, bowls and egg cups. Men chipping and chiseling mosaic tiles … and workers putting the finishing touches onto a prettily-designed rectangular mosaic-tiled tabletop.

Following the ceramics tour, it’s back down into the medina, where Hakima takes us through the souks, showing us facts and people she meets along the way (occasionally to briefly stop and chat in Arabic).

The crowds, sounds, smells and general ambience is almost to much to take in at once. But I remind myself that sensory overload is part of the experience.

We eventually arrive at the tanneries – one of the many sites of interest virtually synonymous with Morocco.

The sprigs of mint we receive earlier in the tour - to hold under our noses and thus minimize the stench that normally wafts up from the dye pits – aren’t really needed. The spring breeze pretty much eliminates most of the odor.

I end up buying a cute little bag with a shoulder strap. It’s tan-coloured and presumably sheepskin leather, judging how incredibly soft it is. With Hakima’s help, I get it for a slightly reduced price.

Next stop is a carpet factory – the one place at which I’m not expecting anyone to buy anything. The building  – which is just huge - apparently used to be a riad owned by a Moroccan family. We go to see some of the weavers at work, their flying across the room, plucking the yarn like the soundless strings of an instrument.

We see an enormous blue carpet hanging across from where we’re standing – and we’re told that it would take about 25 days for two people to make.

Following the ten-cent tour, we’re taken into a room of just carpets, sat down and given a round of mint tea. The carpet-seller who’s taken us round – with the aid of a helper – rolls out some examples of the work (probably in hopes someone will buy). Carpet after carpet is rolled out with a thump. One of my tour-mates – Grace from Australia – takes a couple pictures of her favourite carpets, and has a little fun with the carpet-seller. But no dice.

We get up and move into the main room near the entrance/exit. We’re waiting around as Sally, one of my American tour-mates, is contemplating whether to take the plunge and buy a rug. While I wait, this weird sensation comes over me. It’s my worst fear come to life. I’m not nauseous. But the last time I had this sensation, I ended up with a nasty case of giardiasis. The feeling eventually passes - if only for the moment.

Some of my tour-mates grow bored waiting for Sally to make up her mind, so we go to a nearby clothing shop to wait. They have all sorts of fancy men’s and women’s robes, djellabas, tunics, etc. Before we know it, we’re all trying on various outfits and snapping photos for posterity.

I go in thinking I’m going to land myself a djellaba to wear while in Morocco. But after trying one on, I’m not so convinced. I end up trying on this really cute cotton, short-sleeved baby-blue caftan with white embroidery.

When it comes down to haggling, my first pass isn’t that great. I manage to get the caftan for about 300 DH (or $43.51 CAD). I probably could’ve come down further, and feel a bit bad that I didn’t. But I’m still happy with the purchase.

We stop for lunch, at the restaurant of this older Moroccan gentleman who is just – what’s the word? – crazy! He’s in his early 60s, but his grizzly white beard and wizened skin make him look older. He talks in a flurry of French, Arabic and gibberish (for entertainment’s sake) – and he’s big on cozying up to people and giving them kisses on the cheek. Throughout the meal, most people within his reach aren’t safe - not even me.

I order a Berber omelette and by the time I’m finished, I’m completely full. Even when we complete the meals we’ve ordered, we STILL get more food – tea, followed by two plates of something resembling a meatball stew with an egg in the middle. Hakima explains it’s a token of his appreciation for eating at his restaurant; if we don’t eat it, we run the risk of offending him and his cooking. (Half of us manage to finish our plate of it [which happens to be really good]; the other half only picks at it.)

After lunch, it’s on to the scarf shop, where we have a chance to purchase scarves for our trip to the Sahara desert. Compared to the clothes shop, the prices here are fixed and completely reasonable. I get a brightly coloured-and-striped one for myself, and buy a plain one for my mom as a souvenir.

Last stop on the tour is an herbalist’s shop, where the man who runs it shows us some of the things he sells for medicinal, practical and herbal use – and tests some of it out on us.

(One herb in particular - apparently good for allergies and clearing sinuses  he wraps in a hankerchief, letting each of us sniff in through one nostril. It’s so strong, it shoots straight to the back of my head – and the sensation stays there for at least 30 minutes. I’m surprised it doesn’t burn off my brain stem.)

It’s early evening by the time we return to the hotel, and it’s dark by the time I’ve changed into warmer clothes for the evening. I step out into the night air and go down the street to the nearby internet cafe.

By the time I return, I’ve – once again – missed half the group, who are starving and have gone to dinner (and, as it turns out, a shisha cafe afterwards). So Sally, Cathy, Colin, Nonnie and I decide to head out for a late meal at a really nice restaurant about five minutes away by foot.

I order a harira to warm up. By the time my pastilla arrives, I’m already half-full and can’t finish it. But it was nice, nonetheless.

As I make my way to my room for the night, I’m a little sad that we have to leave Fez the following morning.

I mean, we’ve only been here a day and a half and have barely scratched the surface of this intriguing city.

I count myself lucky to have had the chance visit the place at least once in my lifetime.

Perhaps if I’m fortunate enough, I’ll one day have the opportunity to return.

Estes 4 dias foram passados a passear pelo Dubai, a mostrar à Sara o que já conheço desta cidade arabesca…

DIA 8: Ida ao centro do Dubai, passear nas margens do Rio Creek, Souks Tradicionais, do Ouro e das Especiarias, visitar o Museu do Dubai, Heritage Village e antiga Casa do Sheik Al Maktoum. O almoço foi numa cafetaria arabica onde servem a verdadeira shoarma. Para a noite fomos beber um cocktail enquanto se ouve musica cubana ao bar aqui do hotel, o MAI TAI.

A Sara a passar pelo Heritage Village…

Casa do Sheik Al Maktoum nas margens do rio creek…

Rio Creek e um barco com a bandeira dos Emirados Arabes Unidos…

Antigo Forte… Agora Museu do Dubai…

DIA 9: Dia na praia a aproveitar os 35 graus e o excelente dia de sol… Para a noite fizemos o jantar a bordo de um barco no Rio Creek e o serão continuou num bar bem catita com praia e tudo, o Barasti.

DIA 10: Manha reservada para as compras com a ida ao shopping Emirates Mall. Almoço no Fuddruckers aqui da Jumeira Beach Residence. De tarde ainda deu para ir dar um mergulho à praia. À hora do lusco-fusco fomos até ao Madinat Jumeirah lanchar e dar um passeio. De noite jantarada no 1804 e novamente serão no Barasti.

DIA 11: Ida à piscina ao final da manha. E ao inicio da tarde saída para o Safari no Deserto, onde surfamos nas dunas, jantamos no acampamento, fumamos sheesha e vimos o espetaculo de Belly Dance. O serão foi passado no bar 360º com uma vista magnifica para o Burj Al Arab.

Carujo, Sofia e Sara… Dentro do jipe no inicio das dunas…

Os grãos de areia a atravessar a estrada…

A surfar nas dunas…

Belly dancer… desta vez girinha…

E assim foi o plano de festas, não deu para parar nem um minuto… Acho que foram dias muito bem aproveitados, pena não ter dado para tudo, mas já deu para quase tudo…

Abraços do Guia Dubaiense…

Donkeys hooves knock against the stone, while people scurry through the Medina, getting lost in the maze like streets. Something is different about Fes. Listen closely, there are no honking horns, putting motors or screeching brakes. That’s right, inside the fortified walls and labyrinth allies there are no cars.

The best way to explore the city is by foot. Tourists should make sure to swing by the Dar Batha Museum, the home to Moroccan Arts. The display of handwoven Berber carpets, cobalt blue and ceramic pottery, embroideries, ancient astrolabes, and zelliges, elaborate mosaic and ceramic tiles, is a transport back in time.

Make sure to check out the video above from the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization for World Heritage.

Travel Exploration specializes in Morocco Travel. We provide Tours and travel opportunities to Morocco for the independent traveler and tailor-made tours for families and groups with a distinctly unique flavor. From Morocco’s Seven Imperial Cities, to the Magical Sahara Travel Exploration offers a captivating experience that will inspire you. At Travel Exploration we guarantee that you will discover the best of Morocco! Google on call Travel Exploration at (917)703-2078 and let’s book a tour to Morocco for you today.

Tuesday, March 17 – St. Patrick’s Day.

After breakfast, we set out in cabs towards our first point of interest in Meknes – the royal Granaries. We arrive, only to discover they’re closed to the public – construction.

So trip leader Will shows us the location and we have to make do with walking around the perimeter.

We have better luck at the tomb of Moulay Ismail, said to be one of the greatest rulers in Moroccan history and the man who built Meknes on the backs of at least 25,000 slaves.

Just outside the entrance to the tomb is a old man dressed in the colourful garb of a traditional water-seller. Will asks on our behalf how much it will cost to take a picture. The man says five dirhams. I make a mental note of this as we enter.

We’re first met with a prettily-tiled but dark inner courtyard with a fountain. This turns out to be quite deceptive as we step through another entranceway to see an outdoor courtyard, painted a sunny yellow.

We pass under a series of arched doorways until we reach another even more beautiful indoor courtyard, with various tiles and wood-carved designs adorning the walls. The tomb itself is in another room off to the side and is gated off.

Leaving the tomb, I approach the water-seller and ask if I can take a photo. He tells me it’s 10 dirhams, not five.

Sneaky old codger.

So I take the first picture – and he’s not even looking at the camera. I get his attention to look my way and I snap a second.

Perhaps he didn’t even know I snapped the first picture. But since he increased the price, I personally resolve to keep both pictures – that way I get my money’s worth.

(Petty, I know. But still – who likes to be cheated out something that was apparently a set price?)

Personal lesson # 1: There is (for the most part) no such thing as a set price in Morocco.

Next stop: the dungeon where a number of slaves – including Christian slaves – were kept. The guide tells us Moulay Ismail made his slaves build a tunnel from the dungeon all the way to the ruins of the ancient Roman town of Volubilis.

On the way out of the dungeon, I come across a dog-eared Joker card, practically embedded in the dirt. I don’t know why, but I pick it up and slip it into my pocket. Must be some sort of symbolic significance, but I can’t figure it out yet.

Next stop for us is Meknes’ main square and the medina, with the food markets and other various souks. We pause briefly in front of this huge doorway – apparently called “the fourth most beautiful door in Africa”. It is pretty.  And so enormous, it dwarfs anyone who passes it.

We stop for a drink break – juices, avocado smoothies and such – and then split up. Tour-mates Alex, Colin and I head straight for the food market. I’m just a bit bedazzled by the huge displays of sweets, olives and spices.

Then we make a few turns and before we know it, we’re in the butchers’ section of the market. I hear the incessant crowing (a cry for help?) of a rooster at one of the stands. And I’m immediately reminded of what Will told us about a day or so earlier - about a type of spinning contraption (akin to a rotating meat grinder) some butchers use, into which they fling chickens WHOLE … and likely alive. As a meat eater, I’m filled with a momentary feeling of dread.

We (luckily) don’t see any of this. But see all sorts of meats – and parts on display – goat heads, cows’ tongues and feet, and organs I can’t even identify. Alex mentions she’s ready to leave the section, and I’m more than ready to follow.

We hit the fish market, just in time to witness some men pulling a small shark in a plastic bin. We don’t stay very long, as the section isn’t terribly big and there are people trying to do their shopping.  

We head outdo0rs into the nearby souks. Alex gets a brand-new pair of sequined slipper-shoes from a boy who claims he’s 16 (but looks like he’s about 13).

We continue wandering until we run into our other tour-mates Sally and Cathy (sisters-in-law from the States), who’ve been searching everywhere for the meat market (to satisfy their curiosities about the meats on display), but to no avail.

Alex and Colin double back while I offer to take them back through there, getting yet another glimpse of the meats and heads on display (and a brain or two, too).  

We meet up with the group a little later, and are then taken to lunch. Our meal of the day: camel burgers.

Now, let me preface this by saying: when I first f0und out we’d be eating camel, I actually took offense to the idea of eating an animal we’d be riding in about four days. But then I had to realize that Moroccans probably see camels the way we see cows in North America – that they serve a utiliarian purpose, that they’re not endangered (quite the opposite) and, well, they get eaten. 

This being said, I’m actually surprised how tasty the burgers are when we actually chow down. Vegetarian friends, I TRIED not to like it. I so DID. But I failed.

Next, Will takes the group to a shop run by a Moroccan man with an apparently funny laugh. (I hear the laugh in the shop; I’ve heard funnier laughs. But men with high-pitched laughs are pretty funny to listen to, anyway.) He tells us about Meknes’ artisinal speciality – iron plates with tiny threads of silver inlaid into them in traditional Berber and Andalucian designs.

And you can guess what happened – yep. Another one for the crazy plate collection. Will also scores a walking stick for himself. The top is inlaid with pieces of what I can only guess are bone or ivory.

We say goodbye to Meknes and visit the ruins of the ancient Roman city of Volubilis, with the aid of a raspy-voiced tour guide with a sharp sense of humour.

It’s now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

But during the period of Roman conquests, it was an important administrative town in Roman Africa - and it’s evident by the sheer size of the sight. There are just ruins as far as the eye can see, and despite the damage done by time and the huge Lisbon earthquake of 1755, it’s still relatively intact.

From Volubilis, we head to Fez – the first point of interest on the trip that I’ve REALLY been waiting for. We reach there late afternoon. The place is overrun with cars (both moving and parked), scooters and dudes pretty much everywhere. (Note: I merely said “dudes”. I did not say “good-looking dudes”.)

We reach our hotels and go through the exercise of getting our room assignments and moving upstairs. Liz and I are paired up once again, after getting Alex as a roommate in Meknes. The room is what we’re coming to expect in Morocco. It’s got a neat view onto the sidestreet below and of the main street.

What I’m not prepared for is the bathroom. It’s got a sliding even tinier than the last hotel – just enough space to turn around, maybe once. The shower is a stall, which is fine. The toilet, however, is one that requires a bit of dexterity and balance. The bowl itself is pitched on a forward angle, which means the lid can never be kept open. And anyone using said toilet has to brace themselves against the sliding door to keep from falling off.

If this doesn’t help with my quad muscles and my glutes, who knows what will?

Later in the evening, Will takes us to a restaurant just down the street, run by an older gentleman he refers to as “my Moroccan father”. The man also apparently knows seven languages.

(Will told us that once he showed the man – whom I will now call Moroccan Dad – a flashlight that beamed an image of Saddam Hussein (that he got as a joke). When Will demonstrated this, Moroccan Dad was so taken aback, he spat on the floor of his own restaurant.)

Dinner goes fine; I also get my first taste of what a number of Moroccans will be saying to me for the rest of my trip, when Moroccan Dad says, “Ah! Jamaica!” and to humour him, I say, “Yeah, mon!”

(At least HE is nice about it.) 

Back at the hotel, some of us stay up longer, playing a couple of card games, before turning in (not before I briefly encounter some unwanted attention from a small group of Moroccan guys staying at the hotel. It’s what I have been dreading most. But it’s brief).

Tomorrow – our first full day in Fez. I’m so excited!

The souks, or market places, in Moroccan cities often take up entire city blocks and are made up of stall after stall of goods that wind their way through the narrow alleys and side streets, often only wide enough for pedestrians and the occasional donkey. The stalls themselves are piled high with Moroccan goods from traditional brightly colored carpets and scarves, sacks of exotic herbs and spices, to freshly picked fruits and slaughtered meat from local farmers.

As well as a place for Moroccans to buy and sell their goods, souks are also important parts of the social scene within Moroccan culture, serving as a place to settle disputes and debts and also as a place where families can meet to discuss future wedding plans. As women customarily stayed home and kept out of the public eye in rural Morocco the weekly souks offered a chance for women from different families to meet, gather cooking materials for upcoming meals, and catch up on the latest gossip.

Specialty Souks

The souks may seem chaotic crazy to an outsider but there is actually an organization to them that helps make the souks easier to navigate. Specialty souks within the souk itself specialize in one product such as Moroccan scarves, setting it apart from the next street over which might be the meat souk. This means shoppers can browse through the colorful stalls filled with silk scarves along one street to inspect the quality and compare the prices between stalls before moving on to the next street and selecting the cut of lamb they wish to purchase for dinner that night.

Haggling

Haggling is an expected part of the buying and selling process in Moroccan souks. It is not unusual for a shopper wishing to buy a high quality Moroccan rug to spend half the day bargaining with the rug seller over the price, often over many cups of sweet mint tea. The process usually begins with the shop keeper naming a price and then the buyer will then counter that offer usually with a number 1/3 to ½ the amount the shop keeper suggested. The buyer and seller will then go back and forth offering and counter offering before finally agreeing on a price. Patience and respect are important in the bargaining process and if a shop keeper allows you to walk away without purchasing his product then you underestimated its value and offered too low a price.

Souks in Fes and Marrakech

Two of the most impressive souks occur in the cities of Fes and Marrakech. In Marrakech the souk is located behind the famous Djemma el Fna square where street performers, snake charmers, and story tellers gather along with food and orange juice vendors to provide entertainment and refreshment. The souk itself is spread out along the twisty side streets behind the square and offers shoppers a wide and varied choice of traditional Moroccan goods.

While Marrakech is famous of its circus-like main square the souk in Fes is more of a practical nature where locals go to buy day to day produce as well as specialty items. Fes is famous for its extensive tanneries which are one of the most photographed sites in Africa making the souks in Fes the best places to buy leather products.

These daily souks have changed little over the centuries and for visitors who wish to truly experience Moroccan culture the best way is to step into the hustling and chaotic world of the Moroccan souk. For the large crowded souks of Fes and Marrakech it is often suggested that tourists hire a guide to help them find their way and assist them in haggling over prices with shop keepers.

The most important thing to remember in a Moroccan souk is to have fun! Enjoy browsing through the items and haggling with the shop keeper, it is a unique Moroccan experience that is sure to provide plenty of stories and one of a kind souvenirs to take back home.

Travel Exploration specializes in Morocco Travel. We provide Tours and travel opportunities to Morocco for the independent traveler and tailor-made tours for families and groups with a distinctly unique flavor. From Morocco’s Seven Imperial Cities, to the Magical Sahara Travel Exploration offers a captivating experience that will inspire you. At Travel Exploration we guarantee that you will discover the best of Morocco! Google on call Travel Exploration at (917)703-2078 and let’s book a tour to Morocco for you today.

Exotic aromas of ginger, coriander, and cinnamon mingle in the streets. Fine mounds of spices tower like sand pyramids in the dusty souks of Morocco.  Deep red paprika, vibrant yellow turmeric, beige sesame, green olives and lemons layer in eye catching patterns.

One of the largest markets for Moroccan spices is in Agadir. The spices are customarily displayed in metal tins, woven baskets or plastic tubs. Each dose is weighed individually and sold in a modest paper bag.

Medicinal Properties

Herb specialists in the souks have a wealth of knowledge of the medicinal benefits of the array of red, orange and yellow spices. Cumin, in between a rust and gold color, has been utilized as a stimulant, antispasmodic, carminative, sedative, digestive and also a remedy for colic and dyspeptic headaches. Saffron along with its pungent flavor and sharp odor is said to cure asthma, and some herbalists claim it contains anti-cancer properties. Cinnamon is known to have antibacterial entities and turmeric along with exhibiting strong anti-inflammatory and antioxidants also helps slow the process of food spoiling.

Native Spices

While many spices were emported from the East they also originate throughout the Mediterranean and can be specifically found in Morocco. Saffron, which is often used when cooking white meats, poultry and lamb, is native from Tiliouine. Saffron is difficult to cultivate because it must be picked by hand, and for every one gram it requires 140 of the violet blue flowers. Lemons and oranges originate in Fez, and olives and mint derive from Meknes. Some other widespread spices are also home grown: cumin, cinnamon, turmeric, mint, pepper, ginger, paprika, sesame seed, anis seed, coriander, and parsley.

Dessert

Spices are the heart of Moroccan cooking, and are crucial for making a couscous or a tajine, two popular Moroccan dishes, they are also used sparingly in many desserts. Halwa shebakia, a Moroccan delicacy, is a type of honey cake. Its pretzel-like pieces of dough deep-fried and dipped into a hot pot of honey are then sprinkled with sesame seeds. The ingredients also include a teaspoon of turmeric and ground cinnamon. Saffron is also commonly used in desserts (milk, yogurt, puddings) and teas.

Mint-Tea Fresh

Not only a breath freshener, mint is also served as an herbal remedy with soothing tendencies. Traditionally while Moroccans pour their tea they raise the steaming pot high above the glass, when the tea bubbles it insures its freshness. Mint tea is also customarily served in small shots. While negotiating prices in the souks, it is common that bargainers will be offered some mint tea.

Travel Exploration specializes in Morocco Travel. We provide Tours and travel opportunities to Morocco for the independent traveler and tailor-made tours for families and groups with a distinctly unique flavor. From Morocco’s Seven Imperial Cities, to the Magical Sahara Travel Exploration offers a captivating experience that will inspire you. At Travel Exploration we guarantee that you will discover the best of Morocco! Google on call Travel Exploration at (917)703-2078 and let’s book a tour to Morocco for you today.