Marrakesh

No one visiting Marrakesh looks at their phone. Why would they? Sounds, aromas, and craft abound. Drummings here. There, rhythmic, trance-like Gnawa music floats. Jemaa el-Fna snake charmers. Uncountable stalls of fabrics, pottery, copperware, and leathers. Carts stacked with mounds of cumin, ginger, harissa, curry, and paprika. Fragrant displays of orange, fig, pomegranate and olives.

All made immediate as this rampart world thrives within a cobblestoned maze of tight medina alleys cojoined irregularly by open air souks. A glance at your device would ignore the peril of weaving motorbikes. Or, you would miss adjoining hat sellers accuse, in glottal-stops, of slights and misgivings. Or, skip experience-seekers of all faiths and traditions melding in the bazaar. For over a millenia.

Some are led led by guides touching on the history or importance of this or that. But others, like me, wander aimlessly to find purpose in unexpected discoveries.

Abdul, my riad (guest house) jack-of-all-trades implored me to call him once I got lost in the medinas. I did get lost, but stubbornly circled and circled back. I enjoy the accomplishment of being astray.  

And everyone seems fluent in several languages. Except me. For the life of me, I cannot learn other languages. I hiss, I slight. I implore. It is ugly.

Women, in groups, or alone, seemed very comfortable wandering the medinas within the ramparts of old Marrakesh

I stayed at Riad Dar Hamid. A riad is a large house with a corridor that takes leads to an open air garden patio with two opposite rooms called Qubbas. Traditional riads have a hammam steam bath, a store-room, large living rooms, two kitchens, and separate masriya bathrooms. This riads was converted to a two level guest house with lovely suites and a pool and dining on the rooftop. As soon as I arrived my pre-ordered tagine ghanmi, salad de fruits frais, Cafe noir, and eau minerale was waiting. It has been an enchanting stay.

I had a vague understanding that Marrakesh was part of the Maghreb, or land between the sea and the sands of the Sahara, and along historic caravan routes from sub-Saharan Africa. My flight in passed over large cultivated fields and orchards. All brought to market in the medinas. Long ago Karez - vertical shafts, connected by a gently sloping qanat tunnels were constructed to tap into existing ground water for transport over long distances in this hot and dry climate.

As always not enough time. Barely able to scratch the surface here or explore festive excursions in the nearby desert or Atlas mountains.