Next we took the train from Fes to Marrakech. 8 hours via the ONCF Morocco – 1st class carriage. Comfortable, clean with amazing scenery to watch as we whizzed by. We passed Meknes were the best Moroccan wine is grown, Rabat – the capital on the coast, the infamous Casablanca – which in fact isn’t particularly romantic – then on to Marrakech. The soft red city.

It was frantic. We arrived at peak hour. After risking our lives crossing the street outside the train station, we finally managed to flag down a ‘petit taxi’ and were dropped off ‘somewhere in the area’ of our riad. After much searching and asking directions we were finally led by someone through a maze of back alley’s to the front door of Riad Malika. Most Riads have only one inconspicuous door fronting into the lanes of the medina. Push this open, and you are confronted by a magical tranquil world within. Orange trees, fountains, swimming pools, terraces, restaurants and bars. Riad Malika had all the above. Run by a Frenchmen whom we only crossed paths with once, it was a world apart from the busy city outside.

There were some beautiful rooms in the riad, ours was a bit ‘backpacker’ like but what it lacked in finesse and luxury it made up for in the shape of a private terrace. Our first night we just hung about and enjoyed a nice dinner on the terrace.

Tuesday we ventured out to discover the souks in Marrakech. What a lot of fun. Marrakech as opposed to Fes was full of tourists, particularly French tourists. They were everywhere! Tourists and leather goods. More babouches than I had ever imagined possible, not only the traditional leather versions, but material ones, sequined ones even denim ones were available! We visited the tannery here as well, but unlike Fes we only saw the start of the process and from ground level which was almost impossible to tolerate. We were led around the vats clutching a piece of fresh mint to use as a gas mask, sniffing the mint continually to avoid the pong of the pigeon shit. We got lost several times that day, once in the souk just before nightfall which was a little scary, and another time after arguing with some ‘Berbers’ over us not agreeing to pay them the extortionate 100 dirham they were demanding after dragging us off to a carpet shop. We survived this, but only after making a run for it back into the maze of the medina. It’s a sad state when your tip is refused as being too little, one of the negative affects of the large influx of tourists I imagine. It wasn’t to be the last time this happened to us in Marrakech.

to be continued….

Billions of Babouches….

See all pictures here .