Despite Michael O’Leary’s best efforts to piss me off arrived in Marrakech a couple of days ago. Wow! What an eye opener. Completely alien to anything you know or have known.
Staying in an old Riad next to the Badi Palace, it’s a cracking location. Quiet but within a few metres of the old town. View from the roof terrace pool past the storks nests and the palace across to the Atlas Mountains. Which are snow capped. So fuck off Geldof, wtf do you know.
A short walk into the start of the chaotic old town and the Medina. You could be lost for weeks in there. All very Ali Baba - thousands of shops selling tack, street food, hardware, furniture, rugs, clothes, plumbing supplies and pretty much everything else. Except alcohol. Motos everywhere though - makes Naples seem calm and safe.
Food is fab and really unusual to the western palate, but almost impossible to get a drink in the trad quarter. There are a number of rooftop bars and restaurants that do knock out drink, but these are wildly overpriced and of dubious quality.
Walked down to Gueliz today which is the modern prosperous quarter, but it’s a nightmare with its KFCs and Macdonald’s and pizza huts and shit overpriced Irish and British pubs and restaurants. Really you could be anywhere in the world. Horrible.
So thus far I like Morocco - the people are ace and friendly, the food is great, it’s hot and sunny, it can be cheap. The call to prayer can get a bit wearing though - seems to occur way more than 5 times a day and can be at any time day or night. But I suppose like the alcohol restrictions comes with the territory. I’ve been to worse places in that respect.
Tomorrow, train to Casablanca. Watch this space.
