Marrakesh

Travelling again, this time to Marrakesh in North Africa.

Though Marrakesh is not what i would associate with the African continent. Perhaps it is the extensive use of French that seems at odds. I am getting very profficient at pronouncing ‘Non, Merci’ every five seconds as we weave our way through the markets, gawking like the tourists we are.

Everything a riot of colour from shoes to scarves to pottery to lanterns...

Have to say though, I LOVE the markets, otherwise known as souks. I just can’t get over the colours! Everything is a riot of colour from shoes to scarves to pottery to lanterns. Everything so utterly beautiful in their outrageousness. Though, perhaps luckily for me, my luggage size prevents me from returning with too many new purchases I have managed to aquire a few beautiful things. Most of my rather timid bartering however was done through John who (thank goodness) actually speaks French – very handy all things considered!

During our meanderings, we did discover one very useful tip – never pause for longer than three seconds at any one place. The merchants and hagglers take this as a sure sign you are in dire need of guidance/colourful pashminas/new shoes/leather bags/henna design/silk tassles or the “almost free” bright pink leather shoe keyring. And unless you are in fact in need of one of these, this is usually a pretty good sign that its time to move on. Though don’t get me wrong, all this enticing is done with a friendly smile and I’m fairly sure the cries of dismay won’t last for long – there is after all another tourist just down the way.

Though I must admit considering the souks are one of the major tourist attractions, we are by far the minority. For every one jeans-clad, backpack-touting tourist are five traditionally dressed locals. And to be honest, I do prefer those odds – I never particularly enjoy being a pidgeon!