On our first day, we enjoyed a walking tour of the medina (the old walled city of Marrakech).  Our itinerary (links to Wikipedia articles will open in a new window) included:

1. The Koutoubia Mosque a contemporary of the Cathedral of Notre Dame, it is the tallest mosque in Marrakech and oldest of the few remaining Almohad minarets, towering 25 stories above the Jemaa el Fna (marketplace and square) anchoring the south side of the souks.

 

2. The Saadian Tombs, ornate 16th Century tombs for members of the Saadi Dynasty, featuring tombs for family members (the children have their own rooms!), servants and soldiers.

3. The Bahia Palace “built in the late 19th century and intended to be the greatest palace of its time. The name means “brilliance”. As in other buildings of the period in other countries, it was intended to capture the essence of the Islamic and Moroccan style.” [quote from Wikipedia].

With 160 rooms and a 2-acre central courtyard, it housed a large harem. The architecture is intricate – featuring carved cedar ceilings, marble, ornate plasterwork and an extraordinary variety of the tile work for which Morocco is deservedly famous.

If you’ve seen one ceiling…

Along the way, we saw many interesting sights…

and we made the obligatory stop at a carpet shop because, as the old Latin saying goes, “One hand washes the other.”  It is a way of life in a place where tourism is a significant source of revenue, and not to be feared.  As it was our first day following a long journey, we were ready to rest our legs and enjoy the customary tea, while the rug merchants endeavored to herd each interested shopper into a separate  room for some serious salesmanship.

After a nice, fortifying lunch at Café Arabe, we were ready to attack the souks (markets):

All Moroccan spice merchants (Herboristes) have a proprietary House Blend called Ras al Hanout (“Top of the Shop”) made from 20 – 50 different herbs and spices and having a great depth of flavor.  They grind ingredients very fine, something impossible to do at home, and proudly display them for your viewing, sniffing and- if you’re not careful – sneezing pleasure.

 

The souks of Marrakech are territorial.  A medina, historically (perhaps as specified in the Quran), had a mosque at its center and was divided into quadrants.  Each quadrant had a community oven, (where homemade breads were taken for baking), a hammam (community bathhouse and spa), an Islamic school, and a couple of things that escape me now.  Souks nearest the mosque sold the most valuable items (precious metals, jewelry and books) and the least desirable – such as the tanneries – were on the outskirts, with the remaining souks in between; A Mall of Malls.  There are souks for: wool, dyers, textiles, furniture, lanterns, ironwork (this does not pack well, ladies), clothing, leather, baskets, antiques, copper, hot food, and who-knows-what-else.  Although there are miles of shopping streets throughout the medina, the Marrakech souks are a marvel of compactness, a City Center just North of the Place Jemaa el Fna – a town square that has a thriving Night Market.  Including the square, it is perhaps a half-mile by a quarter-mile and bustles all day as it has for hundreds of years.

As we head up the Rue Semmarine, we happen upon another rug merchant – Chateau des Souks – and stop in for a look.  Colleen meets Moustafa, an affable guy who has earned his living for decades selling carpets, mostly to tourists; not the owner, but the Front Man, the chief nemesis of shoppers.  Moustafa meets Colleen, whose shopping career is littered with the bodies of merchants who suffered  heart failure when faced with her haggling skills – another merchant actually told me he felt like he was going to have a heart attack after she bought something.  There is a Moroccan saying about tight-fisted buyers, “You want a camel at a donkey price.”  After just 30 minutes, Moustafa turned to me and said, “She wants a camel at a chicken price.”  Meanwhile, I found myself attracted to a carpet that now adorns the den and got it at a decent price – probably not the very best, but the ladies (none of whom had any real interest in a carpet) were ready to move on to the many-souks-unvisited.

We wander northward, “half a league, half a league, half a league onward, into the Valley” … of Souks.  We seem to have acquired a “guide” – another Moustafa – who has dogged our footsteps since we left the Jemaa al Fna.  There are licensed guides, some licensed only for certain sites, and there are no doubt a thousand unlicensed guides for every one with a license.  He offered his services in the Square, and we politely declined, but he followed at a distance, never being intrusive, waiting for a chance to assist.  He is a pleasant fellow, seems to know everybody and has kept a watchful eye on our entourage.  “They are in there,” he points as we each wander in and out of shops and stalls along the way.  I surreptitiously ask several shopkeepers if we should be concerned about this; all respond that he is a “good man” and will expect only a small gratuity for spending the afternoon with us.  Of course he does lead us into a few temptations, below, and we willingly go – some we would not have found on our own.  Ultimately, we are all glad for his guidance and if he earns a few small commissions in addition to our tip, we don’t begrudge him.

We visited what might be called, both literally and perjoratively, an Argan Oil mill – actually, it is likely called a pharmacie or herboriste – where they produce and sell the oil of nuts from the Argan tree.   The building is at least four stories tall, within the medina, and you are greeted at the entrance by several ladies grinding argan nuts into a paste, from which the oil is extracted.  It is a tedious process for which automated means have not been suitable. Of course, they could not possibly have produced the quantities being sold, but it was interesting to see the process.  We were ushered into one of many rooms where they make presentations and then sell the oil to visitors; a few minutes later, we were ushered out of that space – to be replaced immediately by a busload of tourists –  and into a smaller room.  The oils were sampled, questions were asked and answered (We learned that Argan Oil is the solution to every dietary and beauty need, a natural cortisone, etc.) and of course bottles and cash soon changed hands.  You can read more about it at Wikipedia: <a href=”http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Argan_oil/” target=_blank>Argan Oil </a>

Rejuvenated and looking younger-than-ever, the ladies were ready for another assault on the durable goods vendors.