Classic Morocco. And Pacha - 16th January 2009
After bit of a sleep in the best hotel room we've had so far, we awoke to find our first day of miserable weather, like a typical drissly November day back home. Still, it didn't put us off too much as there was so much of central Marrakesh to explore.
We headed straight to the souks, the awesome maze of Moroccan markets that sprawl around the heart of the medina. This was similar to our brief experience in Fez, but on a scale of Disneyworld compared to Pleasurewood Hills. Although the Marrakesh souks are clearly more directed at tourists compared to those in Fez, it was still apparent that the markets here are predominantly for the Moroccan residents of Marrakesh with the tourist business an added bonus.
It doesn't take long to get disorientated and lost within the twisting and turning, tight alleys, selling the usual arrays of spices, carpets, and animal parts that wouldn't be considered eadible back home even on a Saturday night, as well as turtles, snails, and an unusual quantity of inflatable Spidermen.
We stopped for lunch in a small Moroccan café, and as tourists tend to, ordered way too much food: 2 tagines of lamb and chicken, cous-sous, fries, veg... Absolutely fantastic food, and a steal at about 4 GBP each.
We continued our semi-aimless wondering into the afternoon until we realised we'd started to backtrack over alleys we'd previously visited. Time to return to the hotel, where we enjoyed a Moroccan tea on the roof terrace and watched the sun set over the Djemaa El-fna, as it slowly transformed itself into a the night market of food stalls, where the real action of the square begins.
One of the ways of Moroccan life I'm yet to be completely comfortably with is the distinct lack of alcohol. As I mentioned earlier, alcohol is not aloud on the square and there are no decent bars nearby with a license to serve. It was agreed that it might be a good idea to have a couple of beers in the hotel room before we went out to dinner. So we did. And then a few more, and a bottle of rum over a few games of cards. By the time we reached dinner, we were feeling quite warmed up and ready for a night out.
After dinner on the square again (I can't quite remember how good this one was) we headed to a funky little bar, Bodega, in the new town where a live band blended Moroccan music, with a touch of latin and good old fashioned rock'n'roll. Closing hours were again upon us, but the path to persist in drinking where ever we could find open took us to Pacha. The red cherries beckoned from quite a distance, and all in all it was a cracking night out.
