It was then more relaxing by the pool, lunch included, before the scooter guy came and picked me up for yet another tour of the Medina. I ran into Sam (?) and got the opportunity to see the tanneries and finally gave in to temptation and bought a killim.

Night included dinner at a cafe overlooking Djeema el Fina (and who was there but Mohammed from Fes, probably trolling for another tourist) before wandering down into the square. The hustlers were few and I spent several minutes buying a stuffed camel from a guy who looked like a young Omar Sharif -- gorgeous, dark skin, long eyelashes, etc.

written by  shoshtrvls on May 30, 1991 from Marrakech, Morocco
from the travel blog: Morocco (1991)
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Returning to the hotel was undeniably a joy however, as a hot bath, room service, and a good night's sleep were needed. (It should be noted, however, that I am spending far, far too much money on this trip!)

written by  shoshtrvls on May 29, 1991 from Marrakech, Morocco
from the travel blog: Morocco (1991)
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About halfway down, by a stream, we stopped for lunch, and as we finished the brits arrived. This time they were much more friendly, the mutual (?) struggle making us something of compatriots. We were to meet again several times along the route.

From here we passed through a village so full of children it was really remarkable. Then it was down to Timichchi, a valley much less fertile and green, although shaded by walnut trees. We camped rather far down in the valley and for dinner, an audience.

written by  shoshtrvls on May 28, 1991 from Timichchi, Morocco
from the travel blog: Morocco (1991)
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We reached Tacheddirt valley just before noon, arriving at our evening's shelter in the village of Ounskra, just below Tacheddirt. The room was on the top terrace, with an incredible view of the mountains. Below was the family's house -- dark, kitchon first on the right, then living rooms, then toilette. Below that were the animals.

First we were treated to tea and tajine before a long siesta. Then some eggs and now I sit admiring the beauty, listening to my host's rythmic berber speech, the wind and the rushing water.

Afterwards, a trip halfway to an other village in the valley -- Omar was apparently sidetrac ked by some "ski buds" so instead we sat at the top of a rocky point. Omar did show me the grainary, the same thing the porter tried to show me in Aroumd the day before. We returned to the house for spaghetti and couscous before sleeping.

written by  shoshtrvls on May 27, 1991 from Tacheddirt, Morocco
from the travel blog: Morocco (1991)
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Imlil was much more interesting. Tiny, with several identical shops, a youth hostel, a cafe and a boulangerie. Here I found a guide, Omar, for the trip to Setti Fatima. (Toubkal appeared covered in snow, and I wasn't quite up to the climb).

I then hired a mule and rode up to Aroumd, the first village on the way to Toukbal. Pleasant enough, and my first true view of how the little villages dot the mountainsides.

Upon my return to Imlil, I discovered that I had been joined at the hostel by an English father/daughter team -- David, an accountant, and Browning (great name), a marketing student. They were quite nice, sharing their coffee and food, as I beat them badly at Scrabble. Later, two less friendly brits arrived.

written by  shoshtrvls on May 26, 1991 from Imlil, Morocco
from the travel blog: Morocco (1991)
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After convincing the concierge that I was capable of walking by myself to the Saadian Tombs. I was given instructions and did just that -- although not as directly as I had hoped. Although I passed it once and ended up wandering through the Kasbah, eventually I got there and they were indeed quite lovely. From there i made my way to Bodi Palace, but it was closed for renovation. (My luck with edifices has not been too good).

From there I went to the Sar Si Said Museum but along the way I stopped at probably the only active synagogue in Morocco, and what a find! Only about 10 men and one woman (who looked just like Grandma Elaine). The Rabbi invited me to his home to eat after the services, and offer I could not refuse.

But first, the museum -- the best yet. A wonderful garden in the middle with spectacular rooms all around, particularly on the second level. The woodwork and stucco was truly magnificent.

Now, back to the rabbi. It was a beautiful house, nothing like the poverty described in the book. And the Sabbath table was laid out beautifully. I was offered more food than was humanly possible to eat -- and wine as well. I must admit that I got a bit drunk.

The house was the first one I had seen with books -- all in Hebrew. The rabbi was, like all good rabbis should be -- warm and friendly, humorous and kind. His family equally so. Truly a pleasure, and yet another side of Morocco. (Sadly, the guide who took me to the synagogue demanded more money than the agreed-upon $5 dh -- when I refused, he said, "you are a true jew" -- cutting, but also ironic considering that he ws the one trying to extract money from me).

After my midday meal, I went to the Bahia Palace. Although larger than Dar Si Said and maybe at one time grander, it certainly lacked by comparison. Additionally, I was forced to take on a guide who spoke no English. A nice fellow but no real help with information.

From there it was back to the souks and a view of the Medersa (nothing spectacular), the Koubba and some fountain not even worth a picture. Hassles were surprisingly few as I made my way through the various alleys.

Then it was bck to the hotel for a relaxing swim in the pool. Met Fath's nephew Sam (who was waiting for me when I got back to the hotel) for a long walk and talk -- very nice guy with interesting views. Also obviously very wealthy. He suggested a restaurant for dinner -- Catanzaro -- another obviously trendy place like the night before where everyone spoke French. What a contrast to the reality of the Medinas.

written by  shoshtrvls on May 25, 1991 from Marrakech, Morocco
from the travel blog: Morocco (1991)
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