In October 2014 I was blessed with the opportunity to travel abroad since my last jaunt over 10yrs prior.
One of the destinations I visited was a long held bucket list item:
Morocco
I had just spent 4 beautiful and challenging weeks in Croatia, reconnecting with the homeland of my Deda (Grandfather – pronounced Di-eda), I had the privilege of being accompanied by my sister as well as my amazing parents. The divide between the place I had just left and the melting (literally) pot of Marrakesh was insane!
Leaving the family behind in Croatia and jet setting over to Morocco alone, I was definitely expecting to be challenged by being alone in a non english speaking country, an Arab country, a place I was unfamiliar with – ‘challenged’ was an understatement!
Initial Impressions:
- Crazy Mofo’s!!!
- What the hell have I done??
- I am going to get soooo lost in these rabbit warrens!
My initial response to being plopped into the middle of an ancient maze of a medina was run! Get on a plane back to the comfort of Croatia, go home, just get the flock outta here!
My secondary response was – wait, this could be really really beneficial to me. This could be my greatest test of endurance and determination. I have a tendency to withdraw, being quite introverted, and now that I was here in a place I had wanted to visit for so long, I was not going to spend the whole time in my room
I ventured out, without the guide I had booked (deep breaths), and the kind gentleman at the riad walked with me to Jamaa el Fna Square so that I could get my bearings and easily make my way home when I had had enough. I think I lasted about an hour on that first outing!
I found myself a possie in a cafe overlooking the square and ordered a coffee, settling in to observe the craziness of this magically twisted place. I watched tourists be set upon by waiting locals, I saw eyes light up as tourists pulled out a map to figure out where they were and how to get to their next sight. I watched as monkeys on leashes were pulled and pushed about (my heart broke). I saw the Henna ladies deftly trap unsuspecting visitors and begin madly drawing on their hands (an experience I would find my self living out later the very next day!), I saw men meet for coffee, swapping papers and crosswords and drinking coffee like it was water. I saw so many things and just soaked it all in. I noted that most tourists preferred French over Arabic when trying to converse with locals. My mind was furiously noting to self all the things not to do when I dived into the mix.
The heat was dry and intense and I quickly found that I needed some panadol and much more water! Satisfied that I had picked up some good tips and was ready for a repreive, I navigated my way back to the riad shouting many ‘La Shokrun’ (no thankyou in Arabic). As I walked through the door of the riad, the new leather bag I had just bought suddenly snapped at the shoulder, disappointed and disillusioned (yet grateful that it held out til I got home), I promptly burst into tears!
Grounding myself again, I practiced some kundalini yoga, and did some journalling to figure out why I had such a heaviness on my heart. I discovered that the thing that was really nagging at me was the manner in which tourists were treated here. I actually felt like to the locals in the square, I was just a walking money bag and they wanted their share. It’s a tourist mecca hence I could understand, I just didn’t like it! What I didn’t like more than this was that in order to navigate the maze and interactions on the streets of the Kesh, I felt like I had to lower my vibration to near point of anger in order to cope. I felt conspicuous pulling out my camera to take a photo and afraid to let my guard down.
I returned to the square after a few hours and gave it another go. Got henna’d in the process and found a quick escape route to a rooftop restaurant to once again people watch, have a feed and swelter under the harsh sun. The food was amazing, however the heat drained the last of my energy and I quickly found myself retreating to the riad for a dip in the pool and a good rest before dinner.
Dinner was delicious and I decided to book myself on a tour the next day to avoid the square and get out of the city for the day. I chose Ouzoud Waterfalls mainly because I felt if I got myself out into nature, I would feel more earthed and calm. I wanted to see the country side surrounding Marrakesh and this seemed like a great way to do that. It turned out to be a great decision and while I struggled again with heat exhaustion, I was rewarded with beautiful souls to spend the day with, incredible waterfalls and vista’s and a camera full of great images.
As I returned to the Kesh after a massive and adventurous day, I walked through the square which was exploding in light and crowds and excitement as the sun set. The feel of the square at night was totally different. Still overwhelming and a little daunting but there was a lighter feel to the space. Again I drank in the sounds and sights and performers. I was warming to it, just as I had to prepare to leave for the coastal town of Essaouira!
Click to read Journeys: Morocco Part II
