Marrakech.

This week was a doozey! Since the weather was miserable in Paris last weekend, we started brainstorming warm (and cheap) destinations. At the top of the list was Marrakech and so we went with the mood and booked our tickets. Four girls in Marrakech. I had my trepidations but all in all the trip was a lot of fun!
The trip nearly started off with a bang (the bad type) when Olivia and I arrived at CDG and were told that the walkway to our terminal was closed (we assumed that this was due to a bomb scare as we were met with a dozen military guards, followed by the bomb squad). Interestingly enough though, we were easily able to walk into a different terminal to cross over to where we needed to go. After nearly a 2 hour delay, our adventure was finally underway. Let’s start with the fact that we stayed in a hostel. Now, I’ve never stayed in a hostel, so this was a first, and what a first! Thankfully, we paid for a transfer and guide to get us there because the streets in Marrakech do not lend themselves to easy navigation.
Every night we relaxed in the hostel and drank Moroccan tea (aka Moroccan whiskey) and smoked hookah with new friends. In the evenings we explored the nighttime Jemaa El Fna markets where we were met with many men trying to get us to dine in their markets. In the same respect, when we explored the souks in the daytime, all the shopkeepers were eager to get us (and every other tourist) in the door by greeting us in every language imaginable and promising us good prices and at times that everything was free (right….). During this trip I learned that I am absolutely awful at bargaining. And I really do mean AWFUL. Apparently, the rule used to be that whatever the shop keeper offered, the fair price was about half. Well, people caught on to that and the shopkeepers figured that if that’s what the tourists expected, why not quadruple the price or quintuple or… you get the picture! So, walking into the shops, where I had absolutely no idea what the fair price was, made haggling darn near impossible! I bought a necklace for 50 dirham (~7 dollars) for which I was told the price was 250 dirham, but I also bought a wooden box for 130 (~$18) which was offered for 180 at first (and apparently 150 was a fair price according to the hostel workers). So there’s absolutely no hard and fast rule. This made it very difficult because without a clear idea of a fair price the last thing I wanted to do was offend someone!
For the shopkeepers it’s all a game. They tell you the price, and in the same breath, ask you what you’d pay. For me, I would rather have seen a price tag and known how much something is so I could walk away or buy it based on a specified price. Another thing I learned was that it depends on who exactly you talk to. I walked into a store that had two gorgeous shirts that I wanted to buy and was told that each shirt was around 450 dirham, an outrageous price! I went back to the hostel and asked the manager (pictures in hand and all ;) ) how much I should pay and was told 350 for both would be a fine deal. I went back the following day and was told that the price was 450 for two (by a different man). Knowing that it should be worth 350, I offered 200 (assuming we would meet in the middle after a bit of discussion). Well this man called over the man I had talked to the day before who told me that it was actually 650 for both. At this point of course, I should have known that this negotiation would not go well, but I tried to get back to the fair price. Unfortunately, this man didn’t even want to negotiate and I left without the shirts. Thankfully though I found two gorgeous pairs of earrings to acquiesce my wallet.
Overall Marrakech was fun, though I don’t think I could have spent one more minute there. On the plane ride home I kept hearing the shopkeepers in my head, screaming “Hello miss” (in a lovely British accent), followed by “Hola” and several other greetings. I kept hearing the phrases, “How much you pay?”; “What’s your final price?”; “Wait, come back!”, and then of course there were some of the less than nice phrases when we refused to pay exorbitant prices or walk into shops (such as calling us Fish n Chips – not a term of endearment aimed at the British, or the heckles of how ugly or whatever we were). Now I know this is just how things are in Marrakech and how the shopkeepers behave, but really, after 2 and a half days, I hit a wall and I think had one more person said another word to me, I would have gone off on them.
As for the treasures of the city, I actually really enjoyed seeing the old El-Badi palace and the Saadian Tombs as well as the gardens and the overall architecture of the city. The Saadian Tombs had me in absolute awe of the amazing detail that went into the walls and decorations and the fact that it has survived from the 16th century. I also found the geography of Morocco quite fascinating as, somehow, I was not aware that the country had the 2nd highest peak in all of Africa and had beautifully snow covered mountains!
The trip was definitely a success. For anyone going, definitely drink as much of the tea as you can! Also, have as much fresh squeezed grapefruit and orange juice as you can in the plaza. Heed what your mother taught you, don’t talk to strangers as they will try to lead you to random shops and expect a tip for their effort. Another lesson that I learned, apparently what I always thought was tagine, is not really the true tagine. This would be fine and well, except that apparently (and unfortunately for me) I prefer faux-Tagine as presented in the US (dates, raisins, rice and all). Oh and since I’m commenting on the food, have as much eggplant (aubergines) as you can! I never knew how yummy it is!
Instead of parting thoughts, I’ll share a fun story (as told by our hostel manager): A German female tourist broke the zipper on her pants and wanted to get it repaired, and in order to explain herself to the shopkeepers, she kept pointing to her pants and saying “zep”. One male shopkeeper, upon seeing her gesture and say the word, didn’t miss a beat, cracked his knuckles and told her to “get in the back”. Well, apparently, “zep” refers to a certain male organ…