Marrakech Express

I thought the shady parts of western society were banned in muslim dominated countries, but apparently I am wrong. Its more a case of those who can afford the vices get them. Eg: Night club entry in Marrakech is 150-300 Dirhams ($30-60 AUD) and after that although its expensive, booze is right behind the counter. Same situation with casinos and as we found last night- the common Skimpy (Although here they are mixed with a splash of culture and called "Belly dancers").

As it was the last night of our tour group around Morocco, we did the petit taxi run from the hotel and headed into a swanky restaurant towards the back of the medina. On the way Lyns cab was hit by a rock from a street rat and it cracked the windscreen- I keep thinking how the movie Aladdin romanticised street rats and made them out to be like tarnished gems. Nope- they are on par with your humble suburban bogan and about as welcome as a cat with a dead bird in its mouth. Anyways- more about getting offered stolen phones later. I went in the last cab with Amanda the group leader and after 10 mins of trying to flag a cab by standing in the middle of a 6-way uncontrolled intersection in the CBD we were on our way to meet the rest of the group.

The restaurant had a menu like most of the other Moroccan places- Targines (an earthen camp-oven), couscous (student equivalent of horse chaff/yellow coloured Deb), pastillas (a pastry bun with almond cake and poultry filling), Pates (Pasta), Poisson (Seafood) and the random assortment of morrocan/French salads. The only difference was the price. Where we paid 6 Dirhams for a Harira for lunch, it was now 95. Where I paid 25Dh for a pastilla, it was now 115Dh. Corona was 65Dh ($12AUD) ouch. Lyn was scraping the coinage together so asked for a mains salad. Our corner of the table lost it laughing when she was served up 3x upside down tomatos on small discs of mozzarella and paid 100Dh for it. Bon apetit indeed. It also came out at entree time, so we figured the waitress couldnt speak english- that was shot down when lyn asked to change to a salad with salad and not just whole tomato and she got a straight out no. After the third bottle of rose between us though no one really cared.

When the belly dancers came out it was pretty cool. There were 2x fit chicks doing the belly dancing, and another was doing similar, but she had a whole damn tea cozy on her head! Everything from the kettle to a dozen candles, all on a huge silver platter balanced handsfree on her noggin while she grooved it up! We were left wondering if she got to know all the crew of the local fire brigade when learning that talent. The 2x belly dancers progressively came through and grabbed the hand of a couple blokes on our table- Dan the UK based Kiwi drafty and Brian the retired Pom. The guys both gave it their best in a dance off against the belly dancers but didnt quite have the shakira moves needed to nail it. They did find their match though with Alex, the 43 year old Swiss director/fitness trainer/retired professional dancer. Before the bikini clad chick knew it, she was being twirled, waltzed and strutted all over the place- In a blur of sequins and swiss finesse it was over and everyone was clapping. Next it was my turn to shine, and I warmed my jazz hands I guess she saw she was out of her depth and went for the lap dance instead... wtf? Actually I think thats what every other person on the table was thinking too.

After the festivities we headed outside to taxi it home, but it was a pretty nice night so 6 of us decided to hoof it back. We somehow picked up a few street rats on the walk and couldnt shake them. After they realised we were all pretty much walking down the street with a hand over our back pockets, they tried selling us some of their stolen merchandise (or maybe Im just stereotyping and this 12 year old and his friend both sold nokia mobiles without chargers for a living). Earlier that week some of our group had their backpack opened and cameras and wallets nabbed all while walking down a street, as well as a little kid walking past lyn that tried to nab her bracelet when he passed... After another 10 minutes of us ignoring them they found some other tourists to latch onto and we were free.

I wasnt sure how the tour would go here, especially after the piss poor effort that topdeck put on for us at organising tomatina, but this was awesome. Great people, a good mix of activities and travel, good accommodation, great guides and the whole thing was well organised and planned- Id definately go in for another one with Imaginative. It was pretty sad seeing the whole thing wind up this morning but we had other stuff to worry about- like where we were going to sleep in a few hours. We packed our backpacks, with new additions of a Jalaba, fez hat, mini targine and spice shop souveniers and headed to the medina. The first place we hit was 150Dh for both of us for the night so we were laughing. It has character- theres a section on our third floor that is about 3mx3m of bent and buckled mesh on the ground that you can see down to the ground floor on. Im still building up the confidence (Stupidity?) to walk across it.

My mission for the day was to complete my insurance claim today for my camera. shop 1- print the claim form, shop 2- copy the police report, then the copier breaks. Shop 3 (Poste Maroc)- Buy stamps, they dont sell envelopes or have a copier, Shop 4 (Newsagent)- buy an envelope, Shop 5 (Print shop)- photocopy the claim. Im left on the last 2 steps- print my certificate of currency and find a mailbox. Easy! oh... they dont have mailboxes here? wtf.

Had a pretty decent day of shopping yesterday- We left the medina with happy chants of "Bloody tourist!" Its how they show appreciation. I have been told about 20 times that I am a berber (The tight arsed brothers from the atlas mountains), Im just happy to be fitting in. In appreciation I have picked up a Jalaba (Blokes muslim dress) made of cotton for what started at 800Dh and I got to 120Dh. Im guessing by the screaming between the old man who sold it to me and his son that ran the store when he saw how much I paid for it that I got a good price. While we were hot on the bartering trail, our group also went in to battle over pipes, lamps, hats, clothes, jewellery and souveniers. If I get one more store person telling me they have to feed a family at home and that I need to give my "best price" im going to pass on to them my bird flu.

Cheers to my old man for showing us how to break out of wrist locks when I was younger- I used it 3 times in a row on this bloke trying to flog me a fabric hat that trapped me in his shop. I found the whole thing funny so just let it go on- yeah simple things, simple minds. Then he tried the "I have a family to feed" as I walked off. Im reminded of Geoff from Karratha haggling over a price then just paying the higher price in the end coz the haggling is the fun part. They didnt see the humor in it though.

We also caught the snake charmers here in Jemaa Al Fna square in Marrakech, but we pretty much ignored them the whole time. To sum it up, they buy a cobra, drug it to make it docile, stitch its mouth closed and then take it out onto the street to make cash from photos. The thing dies in a few weeks and they get another. They have pretty much eradicated most of the snakes from Morocco and have to resort to importing from India and Egypt. I dont know much about the blokes dragging little monkeys on chains through the square, but they seem to be incessantly scratching fleas so we dodged those too- I get my share of bugs each night. On a good note though, I found musk and amber from the spice shops can stop the burning of the bites, so now I smell like a bloody scented candle.

Dinner the other night was in the square- As it started bucketing down we went in for a sheltered seat. According a spruiker out front of a scaffolding tent made of garbage bags and twine it is "Five star, air conditioned, very fast" how could we resist? Later we found Five star referred to the brand of forks (the knives and spoons were all different brands), air conditioned was the lack of walls, and im guessing very fast is how they run when the health inspector pops up. I went for aubergines entree and pigeon pastilla, but somehow after ordering the pastilla twice in an hour it still didnt rock up. Pigeons are hard to find in a rain storm! The blokes there were a good laugh though- the plastic roof sprung a leak above our group and quick as a flash our resident bob the builder spruiker had a strip of plastic bag wrapped around the scaffold and saved the day... 3 times. Keen as I was on the Lamb's head, the rancid fat in the lamb lyn got put me off... not to mention made a few of the crew crook the next day. I guess my absent pigeon pie was a blessing in disguise- As if I need any more bird flu anyway! These coughing fits I get at all hours are driving me nuts.

Well we just heard the call over the mosque PA's to signal the end of daylight and the beginning of breakfast for Ramadan, so its high time for some tucker. As much as the lightning storm looks awesome as a backdrop, the hammering rain isnt looking to promising. Maybe this can pass as my shower instead of having to use the no-doored ensuite we have in the hostel we are in- win win! By the way, toilets flush clockwise here- someone go check what they do in the southern hemisphere for me!