I feel like all I ever blog about is food and running, so I am compelled to do one more entry on Marrakesh in order to document some actual cultural immersion that I accomplished during my trip. I’ll do my best to keep food off the main stage, but Morocco and Good Eats are mutually inclusive concepts, so you’ll invariably see a photo or two of something edible posted.

No food- just breathing space. You’ll find yourself looking for this after only a few hours in the medina.

By my last day in town, I felt like I had finally made friends with Marrakesh. The scads of mopeds, “helpful” children, unemployed young men and aggressive vendors who all seem to speak 600 languages definitely tried my patience- but at the end of the day I could see why so many people come here. Christina and I agreed that this town above others holds the vision of Morocco that foreigners have in their heads, and so reasons to come are compelling. Sure Marrakesh is neat- but after traveling around this country a bit I’d still put it last on places to visit if I were coming for tourism. Then again, take my advice with a grain of salt; I’m an anti-social traveler who will favor peace over commerce any day of the week.

It doesn’t matter what door you choose to gain entry into the souks- there are lions behind each and every one.

Like it or not, the first time you brave Marrakesh’s medina you will get lost. This is an absolute certainty and the locals know it. Every man and child who is not working a store front is there waiting for you to display a fraction of uncertainty and so they can ingratiate themselves into your service. And they will bring you to where you need to go, no problems- but of course you then must pay the “I’m new here” fine in the form of a few dirham. I wouldn’t get too worked up over this eventuality, but it does motivate you to study your landmarks (there are no street names in a medina) and learn where your riad is located. 

The Marrakesh Museum, a beautifully-restored palace that now holds a collection of art that is just enough for my short-attention span.

A visit to the Majorelle Gardens showed a side of Marrakesh that was full of nice gardening and lacking mopeds. Lots of bamboo and color, you’d not be surprised to hear that Yves St. Laurent helped to restore this place.

Yes we’re still in Morocco. And here I am capturing Jay doing his Jay-like stroll through under the tranquil canopy.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention what is going on in Egypt at the moment. Throughout our trip, we kept checking in on the latest developments, and also harboring a certain amount of concern for our friend and fellow Olmsted scholar, Sara (among other Americans in Egypt). When comms were largely cut from the country, we kept checking out the New York Times and Al Jazeera for any new developments.

The three of us sat in Marrakesh’s beautiful Cyber Park and took advantage of its free public wi-fi to  watch the live feed from Cairo in Arabic. Christina provided the translation as we watched tanks         roll past the screen while we were on the other side of the continent in complete serenity. Such a bizarre of living juxtaposition was not lost on us.

Saadien Tombs-what you see here are the graves of kings and sons of the Saadien dynasty. There was another room for the women.

I also want to mention one other thing about my travel companions: the two are Morocco scholars- Christina is in Rabat, and Jay will be studying in Ifrane. While Arabic is the official language of Morocco, all of the signs in this country are in French as well as Arabic (or sometimes they are written exclusively in French!). The abundance of French is great deal for me, but I found it impressive to note that most people here speak at least French, Arabic and Berber…and English and whatever else might get them a profit with all of the tourist traffic running through this city.

The language that you engage a person with will usually set the tone for your dialogue. I learned that if I said as much as “bonjour” to a person, they would speak in French to all of us. Christina and Jay do not speak French, so they would respond to any follow-on questions in Arabic. It was so great to watch a Moroccan’s face go from confusion to a broad smile when they realized that there were Arabic speakers among us Americans. I swear they got major cool points for having a command of this very complex language. By the end of day one, I had decided to shut my mouth watch all of the exchanges take place in Arabic. I have loads of respect for Christina and Jay- no way could you pay me to tackle Arabic.

Photographic evidence of the photographer. We’re standing outside the Koutoubia Mosque.

The old royal palace.  Complete with swimming pool (no, really!)

Here’s some food, but only because it looks so crazy. This is a specialty of Marrakesh, and you scoop the sides and put it in a bowl, although it is not ice cream. It takes like gingerbread on crack (i.e. very strong) but I wouldn’t recommend more than one spoonful to try it out. Or you can do like I did and plop a piece in a French lady’s hand when she comes over and asks me what I am eating. The alternative was telling her, “Je n’ai aucune idée” (I have no idea).

My trip ends where it began, on a train with orange refreshment. I know that this looks like a bottle of Tang, but really- it’s orange juice made from the world’s finest oranges. Certainly the only accompaniment needed for a 5am train ride back to Casablanca.

Rolling out of bed is often hard, but seeing sunrise was a nice perk of being on the first train out of the station.

My quest to die trying see the world continues.