The one with a guide to Marrakech

So you may know that the girl and I headed to Marrakech for a few days and while some pretty cool stuff happened I thought I might offer some tips for survival:

Haggle at every opportunity – when I first tried to haggle I was a bit concerned with aggressiveness of the seller. Once I realised that it is like a sport to them it became a lot more fun. If you don’t haggle they won’t sell to you because you’re robbing them of their fun. A lot of the times we got them down to a ridiculously cheap price but threw a couple of extra dirham to them anyway.

When walking the streets ‘La Shukran’ is your best friend – People approach you in the street and talk French or English to try and ‘guide’ you somewhere or sell you something. Uttering the Arabic phrase means you may understand a little of their culture and they will leave you well alone – just in case.

Riad’s are cool…. Period – If you ever want to feel like a Sultan or Prince then a Riad is for you. The room is amazing and they all open into a central area with a pool or fountain.

Moroccan’s lack ability to insult – A boy who tried to show us around was quiet annoyed with me when I told him to go away several times. On the last “I will kick your arse!” he got pretty upset and unleashed some insults at me. The only coherent one was when he stated “You are sex!” Which confused the hell out of me because I thought, awesome who doesn’t like that? He came back and said we were “sex and f&*ks” which again confused me, thanking him for his compliment we walked off.

Moroccan wine is rather tasty – we were very dubious of sampling the wine in Morocco as the climate doesn’t scream out with favourable grape growing weather. I am glad we did though because we were both impressed. If you can find it a drop called ‘Les Vins de Cepage’ was exceptional and at 100 dirham’s (£7) a bargain.

Market food is great… however – it will give you the dodgy belly. We waited until the last night for this one and I am glad because it gave me the trots for a couple of days after. Thankfully I still felt fine in my stomach.

There are way too many storks in Marrakech – Every wall tower or high point contains a large nest and pair of storks. My main concern was that they would drop a baby into the girl and mines room at night - so the door was securely locked.

Cous Cous, cheap wine and belly dancing is essential for every dinner – Meals cooked in Tajines not only look cool but taste amazing. When finishing off the evening with a show you can relax back in the cushions and enjoy.

When you’re in the Atlas mountains – and the guide says “We go a little higher up the cliff – don’t worry there are 2 of us to help you up”, take note that there is NO safety ropes. Don’t get me wrong they were rather good at holding your feet in the footholes and pulling you over ledges but I seriously doubt whether or not they would of hung on had you slipped and I am sure they have no insurance for these matters. We did come through unscathed and I must say was rather proud of the girl for accomplishing it considering I don’t think I know any girls that would of attempted – especially wearing thongs.

Cactus have fruit….. tasty fruit at that – Can anyone tell me they knew that cactus provided fruit? Have all the cartoons I watch left out this vital info for a reason? Most corners in Marrakech have a cactus fruit vendor selling the fruit cheap. I highly recommend a sampling because it is surprisingly delicious.

If your afraid of snakes, keep aware in the main square – the locals are likely to come and put a snake, chameleon or monkey on your shoulder if you are standing around unaware in the hope you give them some money. The more you scream the more fun they believe you are having and expect more money.

If you venture into the square at night intoxicated, expect to do something to get chased out – After a rather long afternoon of drinking at Kosybar we headed towards the Square for dinner. There was a show about to start and a woman was coming around to everyone asking for money. She heckled us for a while and explained that firstly I haven’t seen them do shit yet so wasn’t going to pay and secondly I hadn’t seen a single person give her any money. She let us be. The show started and if the exclamations I made that the dancers “were all dudes” and dressed in a female belly dancing outfit the final straw was when I took a photo. The original woman screamed and started towards us. I didn’t fret until I saw the two large guys behind her that turned us to flee. As we pushed through the crowd I grabbed a handful of change, throwing it on the ground shouting “Free Money!” a la Bond (See mum those years of couch potatoing finally had a pay off). I am not exactly sure if they had already stopped pursuing but I like to think my my quick thinking saved us from the death penalty.

The one with the Angry Saffa

We left on the Friday (for Marrakech) from Heathrow which involved a 2hr boozey lunch with the work lads before heading off to the airport. I was in a rather happy mood and was trying to rub off on everyone we met. Unfortunately the x-ray guy was a complete tosspot and tried to rub us the wrong way. The girl had 2 clear bags full of liquids (as required now on flights) and we were told that this was unacceptable and could only take one. Deciding to make this guys day turn a little worse I decided that while the girl was combining hers in with mine to argue the point. It is not written anywhere that we are only allowed one anywhere near the x-ray machine. He said it was on the sign – which it wasn’t. He then said it was only on the sign at the start of the line – to which it wasn’t. He then said it was in the ‘flight regulations’ to which I replied I was happy to wait while he produced these ‘regulations’ for me to see. By this time we were ready to be on our way when someone in the line actually produced the e-ticket which states it. Alas this snooty man was correct. Unfortunately for him though I also read the fact that it was supposed to be a 1 litre plastic bag. The one they had provided was not even close to a litre so I decided to describe my disgust to this man for holding not only myself up but also the whole line with not providing us with a correctly sized bag. He was rather silent as I asked him to apologise to the whole line for this unnecessary delay and the fact that he should be leaving his attitude at home. His response was an embarrassed silence and I contently walked away.

After a resounding victory we had a bit of time to kill so we went to grab a 2 way ear phones plug so we could watch a movie on my PSP and both have sound. It took me some time to actually find what we were looking for and the Girl had lined up in anticipation as the queue was massive (which is a rather usual sight in the UK – I swear they see a line here and join it). As I reached her we had just hit the front of the line which had taken her about 10 minutes to get to. As the clerk called for the next person a gentleman quickly jumped in front of us (from the side) and asked a question about a camera. I figured it would be relatively quick and after the clerk said he did have the item in question the man said he would take it.

Deciding that I was on a role and not going to let this man interfere with the queuing system, I proceeded to let him know of his indiscretion. He turned around and in his most annoying Saffa accent declared that he was going to miss his flight because he was late. I stated that if he was going to miss it then there was no problem to join the back of the queue – a point the man ignored. Before I could say anything further, the girl jumped in front of the man and explained to the clerk about the line and we would appreciate he respect that. At this stage the Saffa was furious (if it was a cartoon there would have been steam shooting out the ears) and he through his package down and stormed off.

Content that we had beaten the queue jumper we apologised to the clerk for losing his 400 quid sale and produced our 2 pound item. While the girl was paying the Saffa decided to return to try and get some satisfaction from a verbal onslaught. “How can I explain to my son that I couldn’t get his birthday present because of some rude people not letting me grab things in a hurry?”
“The question is how can you look your son in the eye and tell him that you waited until the last minute to try and get a present for him, and didn’t have the decency to ask the people who queued up before you if you could please go ahead of them.”
“But my gift is more important and more expensive!”
“Are you that arrogant to believe that you are more important than anyone else in this line to even ask permission to go ahead because you’re in a hurry?”

At this stage I thought he was going to explode with anger so I mentioned about the apparent impending departure of his flight and wished him well in trying to convince his son that he actually does love him when he brings home no gift.

The one that's not about me

Not sure if anyone is still reading this but for those that are please take a fiver out of your day to check on the progress of my old man. While I am going to be doing it tough in a Riad in Marrakesh this weekend - he is going to be walking the Kokoda trail (you know the one from WWII?) over the next couple of weeks. The link is in the side bar so have a look if you can to offer some support.