Morocco, land of abundant corn - that was the solitary image I had of the country after reading my grandmother’s book detailing her experiences of living in North Africa in the 1950s. Though I hasten to add that throughout my time there and after clocking up many miles on the road, I never did spot any corn husks. Instead the country greeted my mother, brother and I with its market charms at Jamaa el Fna, in Marrakesh, where tourists flocked to see the snake charmers, fortune-tellers, musicians and tooth pullers with variously sized human teeth lined up on tables. Further inside the medina were souks selling ‘babouches’ (pointy slippers), kaftans, rugs and leather goods in between the apothecary stalls, leaving a trail of pungent aromas behind them.
I cannot write about Marrakesh without
mentioning the Riad Mehdi, our base for the few days we were in the city. The hotel was dimly lit with candles and
narrow, winding corridors throughout, which gave it the air of an upper class
bordello, and provided an intimate setting that felt slightly surreal. Add to that the lack of natural ventilation,
and the fact that the spa, located in the central courtyard was communal and
you could see all the clients having massages from your hotel room, and it made
for a trippy experience that gave it all the more charm.
Just outside the walled medina of
Marrakesh lies the beautiful Jardin Majorelle, originally opened to the public
in 1947 by the painter Jacques Majorelle, and later acquired and restored by
the couturier Yves Saint Laurent. It
boasted an abundance of plants spanning five continents, and included orange
groves, cacti, bamboo, palms, water lilies, lotus and papyrus, to name just a
few. In search of more culture, we
stepped further outside of the city and spent the day taking in the Roman ruins
of Volubilis, perched up high between the valleys and mountains. The ruins included the house of Orpheus,
which contained a very sophisticated network of plumbing and heating systems,
the vomitoriums (bulimia abounded in Roman times!), some beautifully well
preserved mosaics, and a Roman olive factory.
The Forum was the centre of life in Volubilis, with the arches of the
Basilica and the columned Capitol still standing.
After a day of intensive sightseeing and
culture, I decided to go for the Hamman, which though incredibly weird was also
quite relaxing. It involved me lying on
my back in a heated room, in the nude, with a lady pouring buckets of hot water
over my body (the best bit), followed by exfoliation, massage and more buckets,
with water going up my nostrils on more than a few occasions.
A few days were spent in the Riad Fes
Hotel, located in the heart of Fes, which dated from the 1930s and was the
former residence of the noble Fassi family.
From here we explored the ceramic tile factory, where we witnessed men
carving art forms on plates and making mosaics.
We also visited the tannery, where all the leather was dyed, and walked
through holding a bunch of mint leaves we were given to ward off the pungent smells.
Our next port of call involved a long day
of driving as we passed Erfoud, near the Algerian border, Merzonga, and through
the Atlas mountains until we reached the Ksar Jallal, located in a village
right on the edge of the Fezna oasis with views across the desert to the
mountains. There were only six rooms in
the hotel, so it felt more like a private residence, and was high on tackiness
rankings, but it nonetheless had its charms, and the real beauty was its
location. Less pleasant, but somewhat
surreal to see, was a sandstorm we encountered on the drive to the hotel! We also experienced extremes of temperature
from 7 degrees in the morning, right up to 27 degrees in the desert later on in
the day. Unfortunately, I was left to
capture the beautifully shaped mountains in my memory as my camera just didn’t
do them justice. There are places I find
can be like that – no photograph you take can truly capture the beauty of
nature, even with the aid of Photoshop (which I don’t particularly like anyway)!
Overall it was a truly magical
experience, especially being in the desert, rising at sunrise and walking along
the sand dunes with camels by our sides.
And here is a bit of useless
information to end this with, as I am full of these – apparently Moroccan
camels have two humps instead of the more common one hump. In more eloquent terms, a camel with one hump
is called a Dromedary Camel, and one
with two humps is a Bactrian Camel, which is native to the Gobi Desert in
Mongolia, whereas the former is more common in the Middle East.
© Copyright Vanessa Sicre
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