Marrakesh is magic. Magic and madness. I think it's one of the most amazing places that I've ever seen in my life. Not that I've seen everyplace – but someday I hope to! We were in Morocco with Kate's family. We had been traveling so long, just the two of us, that it was a bit strange to be traveling with others. But her family is great. I think I described them before. There's her mom, William, and Ian. William had visited morocco 15 years before, and had been telling stories of it since.
They say that St Mark's Square is the drawing room of all Venice. If that's true, then what does that make Djema Fna for Marrakesh? We first visited the square in daylight. Except it's not quite a square, but more an L shape. There was so much activity. What caught my eye first were the orange juice carts. They look like the pumpkin carriage from Cinderella. Perhaps I'm more conscious of this than others because it was four mice that were transformed into horses to pull the carriage. Not that I've ever been transformed into a horse or anything. There were eight or more carts, and the guys from all the carts were yelling to us. They were all telling us that their orange juice was the best. We learned quickly to make a juicing hand motion if we wanted our juice freshly squeezed. Which we did, as the non-freshly squeezed stuff can make you sick. Orange juice is an amazing 15 pence a glass. I could really get used to that.
After our orange juice we wandered around the square. There were lots of people milling about. Herbalists selling various things. Men playing drums, and huge crowds standing around them. People walking from one side of the square to the other, or just wandering the square looking at people. And there are snake charmers. Real live snake charmers. They are playing obnoxiously loud reedy instruments to charm the snakes. Now I feel like I've just walked into a book. Except the music is not as lovely and melodic as I would have expected. I hope that they really can charm, as I don't want to end up as a snack for one of the snakes. I make sure not to get too close.
Surround the square are lots of nice french influenced buildings. Needing a bathroom, we visited one of the cafes. Where we discovered one of the best inventions ever – fresh squeezed orange juiced mixed with vanilla ice cream. We slurped this on a balcony overlooking the square as the sun got lower in the sky, bringing a bit of relief from the heat.
William was waiting for dark. He was as excited as a little kid at Christmas. We watched as tables and benches started to appear out of nowhere. Lights were stung up, fires light, smoke started to appear, all within half an hour. Where had all this stuff been hiding I wondered. We headed back out to the square. There were now twice as many people. And over one hundred stalls selling food. And all of them wanted us to buy from them. William must have promised at least six different guys that we would buy food from their stall. There were stalls selling sandwiches, sheep's head, a soup called harira, salads and sausages and meat, desserts. We opted out of the sandwiches and sheep's head and went instead for the harira. We sat at a crowded table, and given metal bowls of harira and dates. The harira is amazing – with little bits of noodles and chick peas in a tomatoey broth. I want to eat another bowl, but I want to try everything else too!
Then on to find a main course. We didn't go back to any of the guys that William had promised. Instead we walked around until we had visited all of the stalls. And found the one woman that was working. She was wearing a black leather hat with a brim. And we sat down. We didn't have any plates, just the paper that covered the table. We had french fries, and grilled chicken and sausages, and amazing bread, and a tomato sauce to dip it in, and some other vegetables and we ate and ate and ate. Everything is amazing, and we share plates, eating with forks and bread, often right off the paper table cloth. We shove food in our mouth like we've never eaten before, which is obviously not true, since we had soup twenty minutes before. The woman stands there, stirring a pot of something. She tells Kate's mom that she started working here years ago, that she was the first woman here. She came to help out her husband. Now there are few more women, but not many.
The last row is full of carts with brass samovars. Kate wants to try whatever is in them. It's a drink, and Kate drinks it and gasps. “It's so spicy” she tells us as her eyes start to water. They continue watering for a full 10 minutes. We also try the dessert from the booth. It's weird, and not very sweet. The ice cream and orange juice is much better.
Night is when the square really comes alive. In addition to all the food and the eating, there storytellers. People gather around, all locals, as these stories are in Arabic, and listen. They are engrossed. There are music groups. Guys playing drums. In the center of the circle of people gathered to watch, listen are dance are guys in drag, dancing, dancing. Everyone realizes that the are in drag, maybe it's a joke. People gather to dance, or just to listen. Everyone moves a part of their body, even if it's only to tap their toes. It's impossible not to get swept up in the rhythm. The herb sellers are still there, but now they seem more mysterious with nightfall. Especially as the smoke from the food stalls wafts over. Women with henna work the crowds, offering to draw designs on your hands. They are the only ones that speak English. We say no. And then there are the fortune tellers, waiting to tell you about your future. I don't want to know about my future though, and even if I did, I doubt I would understand what they told me. And everywhere there are locals walking arm and arm, surveying the scene, looking for friends, for pretty girls, for handsome boys, for some excitement. We tourists are included, but it's obvious that this show was not put on for us. No one is speaking English, we can't understand the stories, or the fortunes, or the words to the music. I wish that I could understand, but realize it's not necessary. This is one of the most amazing places in the world to watch, listen, eat and smell.