Click to enlarge the photos.

Related posts:

1. Flying into Marrakech
2. Traffic in Marrakech
3. Koutoubia Minaret Marrakech

Right across from Koutoubia is what I would deem the world’s most insane street crossing. There is also a couple of interesting café’s to sit at and rest your feet outside the madness of the Jemaa El Fna market square. Just beware the shoeshine kids. It is so hard to turn them down as they are very pushy, but needy looking, however, they are often part of a more elaborate child labour scheme.

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1. Ben Youssef Medersa Marrakech
2. Jemaa El Fna Market Marrakech
3. Marrakech Photos

I wouldn’t advocate wandering the streets of any place alone at night, but somehow in the Medina I never felt unsafe. I always felt just a mere bystander to the daily life of Moroccans in the Medina.

Besides, even late at night, there seems to be enough people walking around or streaming by on their noisy 70′s motorcycle.

Related posts:

1. Modern Marrakech
2. Ben Youssef Medersa Marrakech
3. Traffic in Marrakech

The sights, sounds and smells of the Jemaa El Fna market (pronounced Jem-ah el fenna) are one of the great treats of a trip to the desert city of Marrakech in Morocco. If you enter the giant square from the west you’ll play “human Frogger” to cross the many lanes of traffic to get to the square. Enter the park area, pass all of the tour buses, the Club Med hotel, work your way through the crowd and you’ll find a world of snake charmers, street hustlers, vendors, and food stalls. It’s like going back in time.

This is a place where mothers ride motorbikes carrying three other people and a load of supplies, where donkeys still pull carts, where snakes are still charmed, and where if you’re not careful you’ll end up with a monkey on your back.

The high pitched whine of the snake charmer’s pipe drones on in the background as I walk through the food stalls in search of something delectable. Everyone here is your friend, and the hosts for each food stall can be extremely pushy and annoyingly charming. They’ll call out to you in every language thinkable to try and get your attention — particularly if you ignore them. On numerous occasions at different carts I was told that their chef was Jamie Oliver. These guys must have all gone to the same sales school!

Picking a place to eat can be rather daunting, and on my first night in the square I had a great time, but likely chose the wrong cart. My meal was less than a few dollars American, but I have a feeling I still paid too much. There were a few other tourists at my table, which was basically just a long collapsible wooden table like you’d find in a school gymnasium, but there were not very many locals.

Across the way I notice that one stall’s host is arguing with the neighbouring stall’s host. It appears that the first stall doesn’t like the second one’s pushy sales tactics, and thinks that he is driving away his customers. I observe for a while and he’s kind of right. The first stall is cooking up some type of potato dish in a tagine, and the people at this smaller stall all seem to be Moroccan. Virtually every seat is taken and everyone is sitting at a bar like square around the chef. The stall next door looks like the one I’m sitting in and is mostly empty with the exception of a few tourists.

My advice for people looking to eat at Jemaa El Fna is to seek out the busy small food stalls that are packed with locals. There is an added level of assurance in this that indicates a high level of quality and food turnover. I look at my stall and there is a large stack of unrefrigerated meat kabobs sitting out in the plain air. They look fresh enough, but it is tough to say what will happen to these if nobody eats them tonight.

While I’m not one for tourist attractions, the Jemaa El Fna market is a truly special place. Unlike the Eiffel Tower or the Empire State Building this place is brimming with culture and it’s here that the locals and tourists congregate in the evenings. The scents and sounds of this place are of another time, and though it can be intimidating, this is probably one of the safest places to be in the evening.

Eating in Morocco is a treat and the Jemaa El Fna is a great place to start. Nearby to the square are a bunch of coffee shops including the Glacier Café. From a few of these places you can get access to a rooftop patio and take the ubiquitous picture of this market — not unlike that shot of the Eiffel Tower that everyone takes.

There were perhaps some more authentic things to be seen around Marrakech, but I seemed to always end up back at the Jemaa El Fna. There is something a bit magical about it that will keep you coming back over the course of your trip.

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1. First Hours in Marrakech
2. Koutoubia Minaret Marrakech
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The area is an authentic and not-so-touristy part of the Medina and offers up a local culture that is just very true to its roots. The streets are lined with produce, chicken coop shops, bread makers, butchers, and other merchants — all in the name of food.

The area was also a bit of a respite from the constant badgering by shopkeepers closer to the Jemaa El Fna market where things tend to get quite touristy. If you have a chance to stay in Marrakech I would highly suggest the Riad Clementine in the Bab Doukkala.

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1. Riad Clementine — Marrakech
2. Modern Marrakech
3. Ben Youssef Medersa Marrakech

Shaving is one of those moments that a man should take to himself. A manly ritual.

For that reason one of the top things on my mind when I arrived in Marrakech was getting a straight shave. The kind where the barber uses an old fashioned single-bladed razor to give you a close shave. It feels like the kind of thing a real man should have done at least once in his life.

After three days in Marrakech I finally work up the balls to go into a barber shop. I’m not sure why it was so tough, but a barber shop can be an intimidating place. I found the same thing in Brooklyn. There are certain neighbourhoods where the barber shop is a bit of a social hub kind of like in the old movies. Marrakech was no exception.

I walk in, interrupt the barber’s conversation with a local who is hanging out shooting the breeze. I do my best to ask for a shave in French. The guy knows what I mean. I get sat in the barber chair.

Please don’t cut my jugular. That’s all I ask.

I lean back and put a lot of trust in this man.

He proceeds to butter my face up in a way that I didn’t know was possible. Using a brush he lathers the shaving cream up into my whiskers and makes sure not to miss a spot. I’m feeling pretty pampered at this point.

The barber says little and goes about shaving my face with efficiency, but great care.

The barber shop is borderline third world. It’s dingy, narrow, and lit by the terrible kind of overhead neon light tubes that casts a greenish glow. In North America you would be hard pressed to find lights like this now anywhere except maybe a roadside taco stand in the middle of El Paso.

I hadn’t shaved in over a week which means this process is needlessly painful, but still as the barber cuts a swath through my coarse facial hair I can’t help but think how great this is. This is what men used to do, but all of this in my culture has been replaced with disposable or electric razors. We rush through this process now. It’s no longer a part of the day to enjoy, it’s just another thing to get done.

The razor cuts very close. It feels dangerous and manly. I bet this is how Clint Eastwood or Paul Newman would shave back in the day.

After the barber is done he wipes my face applies after shave that stings like no American after shave could, and then applies salve to the little cuts that are now all over my face.

I look prepubescent. I keep touching my face as it literally has not been this smooth in probably 20 years. Wow.

The barber thanks me and charges 3 Dirhams. If my math is correct that is about 35 cents Canadian. I insist on giving him 10 Dirhams. That is a generous tip by their standards, but really not very much considering the service I received.

I exit the barber shop feeling like a new man.

Upon leaving, Random Street Hustler guy approaches me. I politely blew him off on my way into the barber shop hoping he would have better things to do than to wait for me.

Apparently he did not.

He wants me to come to his brother’s shop across the street. There is a great view from the roof to take photos. This is my last day in Morocco, so despite Hustler’s craggy old face and terrible teeth that indicate some level of suspicion, I decide to live a little. I know this is going to cost me some money, but hey, I really haven’t spent much here.

I go into the shop across the street where Hustler introduces me to his brother. Brother is less craggy looking, actually, he looks pretty good, like maybe he has been living a pretty good life. I recognize quickly that these guys are not brothers.

I go up to the roof to take a photo. The view is actually really lame. I snap a picture anyway of the most interesting angle I can get of the street through some barbwire.

I am invited for some mint tea. This will become the most expensive mint tea I have ever had.

Moroccan Mint Tea is basically hot water, sugar, and muddled mint leaves in a small glass. I like it so much I have seconds, and it’s at this time that I’m semi-obliged to give in to Brother’s pushy offers to try on some garb.

He’s telling me of his people, the Berber people, and his trip down from the Atlas mountains to run this shop. I’m thinking that this guy probably travelled down from the mountains by Land Rover, but I try to be polite.

I try on some Berber garments. Indeed, the loose fitting full coverage outfit would be great if I was herding sheep in the middle ages, or if I were wandering the dessert like Lawrence of Arabia, but for me it’s not really practical.

I’m not sure how I went from thinking that to getting forced into bargaining with Brother for how much I was going to pay for these. My blood is boiling a little. I think of bolting for the door, but the Canadian in me decides to be polite.

He opens the bidding at 1500 Dirhams. Instinctively I have no idea how much that is. I write my counter offer on the pad of paper while I am still trying to process the figures. He laughs, tells me how great the quality of the outfit is, and then counters at 1250.

I’m trying to put it all in perspective. How much was the taxi I took from the airport? 100 Dirhams which is about $12 CAD. How much is a taxi in North America. How much would I pay for a pair of jeans? I am thoroughly confused.

In the end I walk out paying 500 Dirhams for this Berber outfit that I have no idea what I will do with. I have a feeling I just got fleeced, but have no idea to what extent. I work out that I’ve payed about $60-70 Canadian for this outfit. I try not to let it get me down. In perspective it’s not a terribly large amount of money, but it continues to irk me.

I walk by a fabric shop a couple hours later and see that you can buy a yard of fabric that looks exactly like my new outfit for about 35 Dirhams — less than $6.

That night I’m back at the Riad Clementine chatting with the owner and ask him what a typical wage for someone working in the Medina would be. He tells me minimum wage is about 50 Dirhams and that is fairly common.

“50 Dirhams per week?”

“No, 50 Dirhams per month.”

Crazy. These people make about $6 per month, and to top it off I basically paid ten times the amount of a normal worker’s monthly wage for a piece of cloth. I feel very stupid, but chock it up to a lesson in the school of hard knocks. Before travelling to new regions in the future I will be sure to get an idea about the typical costs and incomes of the locals. Without this information you are a sitting duck.

I don’t feel Marrakech was unsafe despite travelling alone. It is not the type of place where somebody would have mugged me, but there are plenty of street hustlers looking to make a buck, and they will squeeze you hard. If you are dumb enough to give them your money, they absolutely will take it. It’s not robbery, just stupidity on my part.

At the end of the day this experience did not taint my view of Marrakech. I loved being there and all of this was part of the adventure. The only thing that continues to bother me about overpaying a petty con artist who obviously preys on ignorant tourists, is that I gave him a substantial sum of money for being a crook, but I gave the barber who makes an honest living next to nothing. If I was going to throw my money around I would rather have given it to the guy who was running a legitimate business. Unfortunately this is sometimes how the world is.

Before leaving the Riad Clementine on my way to the airport I decide to leave my remaining Dirhams as a tip for the 8 staff that work at the Riad. They were all so fantastic that I didn’t feel it was enough, but it would amount to about a half months extra pay for each of them. I guess that is one way to make a wrong into a right.

The barber shop at night.

Related posts:

1. Flying into Marrakech
2. Modern Marrakech
3. Riad Clementine — Marrakech

The Michael Bolton rendition of When a Man Loves a Woman plays over the stereo as the first course of my meal arrives. I’m sitting at an elegantly set table sprinkled with flower petals at the Riad Clementine in Marrakech. Riads are the best choice for places to stay in the Medina of Marrakech and are essentially the equivalent of a fancy bed & breakfast in North America.

The ambience is perfect, the food absolutely delicious, the service impeccable. I’m in love — but not with anyone in particular. I’m all alone here in Morocco, I’ve arrived here on a whim with little expectation, but the food, oh the food! My date tonight is a chicken tagine and a plethora of other great Moroccan amazingness.

I plow my way as gracefully as possible through several courses plus desert. It’s probably not pretty to watch, but my enthusiasm for Moroccan cuisine makes me feel like a fat kid on cake.

I am waited on like some kind of royalty. It makes me feel uncomfortable, but this is just how it is done here so I get used to it.

The Riad Clementine was a huge surprise to me. Not only was the food at the Riad simply amazing, but the place was an oasis from the madness and confusion of the Medina. I didn’t expect to relax in Marrakech, but next time around I will book more time to lounge around in the sun. In mid-December it was about 25ºC and perfectly clear and sunny. If I had more time in Morocco I would have spent some time around the rooftop pool at the Riad.

Getting to the Riad Clementine was relatively easy from the airport, and should only cost about 100 Dirhams by taxi. There are a couple of things I would like to have known before I got there though, and that would be where exactly in the Medina the Riad is.

The Riad Clementine is located at the Bab Doukkala entrance to the Medina. This in itself is a delight and is a less touristy part of town with an authentic feel. It is about a 15-20 minute slightly confusing walk to the Jemaa El Fna and the souks, but if you give yourself some time and consult a map it becomes easy to navigate after a few days.

Bab Doukkala is also reasonably close to the European Quarter of Marrakech, but why you would want to go there is beyond me. The cultural richness of the Medina kicks the crap out of the modern section anyday.

If you’re looking for a nice place to stay in Marrakech, definitely give the Riad Clementine a chance. The service, atmosphere, and quality of the rooms will be a pleasant surprise.

Check out the Riad Clementine at Splendia.com

(click to enlarge)

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Nearby there are a couple of other sites to see including the Marrakech Museum which also has a café to grab a coffee and a snack.

This is a fairly touristy area so beware of paying too much and/or having people approach you with advice. Their guidance does not come for free and you will be expected to pay them. If you do accept their help be sure to negotiate the price in advance.

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This might be a contentious and slightly disrespectful viewpoint, but modern Marrakech to me was kind of boring. The area around the Gueliz, or European Quarter, was just not that exciting. To me it felt like a dirty version of Europe.

The shops are largely familiar brands like LaCoste and Levi’s. The restaurants are either McDonald’s, KFC, or some austere yuppy joint.

Also notable is the distance between things. One night I wandered out of the walls of the Medina and walked what seemed miles and miles through empty space. On my long walk I ended up near the Marrakech Sofitel hotel, a place where the crappy 70′s motorcycles and Mercedes and Renault vehicles had been replaced by the latest Porsche Panamera.

Then I walked another bunch of miles in the hot night air before I finally stumbled on a Haagen Dazs shop. This is hardly what I was looking for.

Anyway, my point is that the European part of Marrakech is exactly that — European. It is interesting to see briefly, but I wouldn’t go out of my way for it. Also, from a safety perspective I felt way more safe in the Medina at night than I did wandering the streets of modern Marrakech at night, where I would ofter go a mile down a very poorly lit street before even encountering another building. The one good point about the Gueliz is that there are a few bars and nightclubs, which you won’t find inside the Medina. Many Riads will serve wine, but overall the Medina is a non-drinking place.

It’s just my take, but unless you came to Marrakech to eat KFC, the Medina is a far more culturally enriching experience.

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1. Wandering the Souks at Night
2. Boutouil Bab Doukkala Marrakech
3. Riad Clementine — Marrakech

I flew into Marrakech Menara Airport (RAK) from Barcelona for about $120USD in mid-December and flew back to London for about the same amount. On the way in I flew Vueling which was fairly decent for a discount airline, although they still have the very tight carry-on baggage size restriction. On the way out I flew Royal Air Moroc. This was not so pleasant. This is going to sound like I’m totally spoiled, but the seats were tattered, the soap in the lavatory was a dirty sliver of bar soap, and there was no in-flight entertainment whatsoever. It’s not that I need any of those things particularly, but the whole airline was so sub-standard that it made me wonder who maintains the plane? These are things you would rather not think about.

The flight into Marrakech also takes some bizarre corkscrew pattern. I’m not sure why exactly, but it certainly makes for an interesting ride.

As far as the airport itself goes, be prepared for something otherworldly. There is no official taxi stand, and you have to walk well into the parking lot to find one. I’m not complaining, only writing this so you are aware of what to expect when you arrive. Morocco is borderline third world, so don’t expect anything fancy when you get there.

Also, you are only allowed to take 1000 Dirhams with you when you leave the country. Be sure to either exchange the money or spend it before you leave. On another note, the airport security guard gave me the full “package cupping” upon arriving at airport security.

Oddly once you are through the gates to leave there is a McDonald’s amongst other fast food and a duty free shop. Compared to the arrivals wing this feels truly first class!

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2. Marrakech Photos
3. Modern Marrakech