MARRAKECH
MOROCCO
‘You like Arabic cultures’ he said with a hint of scepticism. But is Marrakech really Arabic? It was getting dark. First night and first time in Marrakech.
And there we were. Just the two of us…the two of us and the enigmatic light of Medina’s street lanterns.
We kept walking faster and faster. We were on our way back from La Table du Riad. We just had an undeniably romantic dinner and I had just eaten my first Tangia - undeniably delicious and the best dish I had in Marrakech.
We were on a mission…a mission not to get lost in the labyrinths of the old town. ‘Wait a minute. Is it Tangia or Tagine?’ I kept mixing them up. ‘Tangia’ he answered.
Tagine is Morocco’s national food, but it was actually Tangia that had won me over: a Moroccan amphora meat dish prepared with citrus fruits and fresh ginger, slow cooked in a ‘farnatchi’, Morocco’s famous wood fired oven.
We kept walking. I could still feel the refreshing notes of orange and ginger in my palate. My first hours in Marrakech and the old Medina were somehow magical. They were full of new flavours, new scents, and new sounds.
I couldn’t really orientate myself. All I knew was that I had to walk through the terracotta red alleys. I heard an angry male voice from far away. It was approaching. I could not understand much but I was convinced there was a powerful sense of anger in it. The angry voice was approaching.
A tall man appeared from around the corner. He looked at my camera. It was a sharp look of disapproval. Suddenly the voice became even angrier. I could not understand much but I knew he was not happy with my photo addiction.
I started walking faster and faster again. The angry voice had started fading when it completely disappeared with the sound of a slamming door.
Phew…we had escaped the angry voice and we just had our first little Moroccan adventure. I felt a relief followed by a slight sense of guilt. He must have had enough with all those tourists. I decided to put away my camera for the rest of the evening and simply enjoy the moment.
The next day I did not wake up to the sounds of a call to prayer. I woke up to the sounds of sweeping - kind of a ritual in Marrakech. As soon as the sun rises, a vigorous ‘sweeping’ concert commences across the neighbourhoods of Marrakech.
Shop owners sweep their entryway, Riad owners sweep their inner courtyards and old ladies passionately sweep their front yard while catching up with the neighbour.
And there was something addictive about it. There was a certain melody in the way the broom was touching the old, tiled floors. A melody that marked the start of a new day. A melody that made me feel safe and calm as it brought back sweet childhood memories of my own grandmother sweeping her front yard.
The sun had yet to rise. My plan was simple: I had to walk through the pink-hued alleys of Medina, grab a taxi and then enjoy the first sunrays while exploring the almost empty Jardin Majorelle.
And indeed that’s exactly what happened, followed by many walks in the alleys of old Medina and Kashba, several cups of mint tea, many glasses of fresh persimmon juice, intriguing terrace views, a full immersion into the fascinating world of mosaic tilework, a visit at Ben Youssef Madrasa, a private hammam session at Amanjena and a yummy meal at the very well hidden Dar Cherifa restaurant including the best chebakia cookies!
No, Marrakech is not Arabic. Marrakech is a continuous interplay of Arab and Berber cultures. It’s where the intimacy of Riad courtyards competes against the astonishing rooftop views. It’s where palm trees and cacti become one as they try to dominate each other. And it’s where the Moroccan blue competes against the Moroccan red - if you ask me, red wins.
On our way to the airport I realised what makes Marrakech such a special place. There is a sexiness about it. There is a sexiness in the unknown hiding behind the heavy doors of each Riad. There is a sexiness in the constant sound of flowing water; in the spicy notes of Moroccan paprika; and in the playful explosion of flavours. There is a sexiness in the scent of mint tea and rose water; in the wet hot steam; and in purifying body and soul before praying.
