Oranges and the souk

from the gardens at Majorelle
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The square of the Medina is called Jemaa el Fna.  At night it is lit like a stage set.   musicians with blaring horns outbid each other in volume to attract tourists.  A line of orange juice sellers line the west side of the Jemaa greeting passersby like  dear old friends.  The juice is fresh and delicious.

The slightest hesitation and you will be accosted by a fellow who will ingratiate himself with ardor.  Speaking first in French as a good 70 percent (my calculation) of tourists here have flown down from France.  Soon you will have a shadow you will not shake.

An awesome small museum in the garden
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Another common call you hear is the hissing whisper "Hashish".   At first I paid no attention imaging they were speaking French.  Then a young German fellow I met in the hostel that I went shopping with in the souk pointed out what was really going on.

One overeager salesman nearly shoved his little square of hash into my shopping friend's nose which would have been about as aggressive a sales technique as they get.

I have taken a room on the third floor of the Hotel Provence.  There is nothing Provencal about it.  My neighbors seem to be locals.

lantern shop in the souk
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Moroccans are a mix from Northern European white to West African Black.  Every variety of head covering appears on the street.  I see more noses exposed though.  Young people are in the universal garb of jeans and t shirts.  I have even spotted some 3 quarter length shorts which are so common in France showing up on boys here.

What I hadn't seen before until here are the full length robes with pointed hoods.  Not nearly as frighteningly stiff as the KKK version they come in all colors and many textures.  During the midday heat I was envious of those hoods.

The Majorelle cactus garden
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Marrakech is a blessed town in regards to green respites from the heat.  A great many parks have been nurtured and behind many a wall lies a tiled courtyard with fountain and potted plants if not a plot of tended plantings.

The current King appears to embrace a Morocco equiped to attract western development and technology.  Construction albeit small scale is happening everywhere in this town.  A lot has to do with tourism.  A new hotel, a new train station, another 36 holes for golf.  There is investment in infrastructure so you see very new garbage trucks.

A doorway in the Badii Palace
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So donkey carts challenge motorbikes in the narrow alleys of the medina.  A cyber park offering internet kiosks for kids to play on amid much green and refreshing tiled fountains.  Air conditioned buses ply newly paved roads connecting the city with Casablanca and Fez.

This is a city for sitting at cafe nursing an extremely oversweet mint tea.  Snoozing on a divan in a tiled room with low furnishings and hand made carpets.  For resting from the heat under the canopy of fig trees and ficus.  Or being chased by three guides all demanding money when you didn't ask for one.  Being lost beyond comprehension in a maze of ochre colored walls.  dodging horse carts, cars and motorbikes all careening through the town square.

A very large courtyard in the palace
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Tomorrow Essaouira by bus.