Day 2: Marrakech

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If you've never heard the call to prayer, it's quite something to experience - at 5:30 in the morning!

After that early morning wake-up call, I hit the medina for the morning.  Only to find my usual method of memorising the map, then wandering around without it, wouldn't work.  Marrakech medina is a rabbit warren of streets and alleyways, and it is easy to get lost.  Potential guides latch on to you and walk with you, to give the impression they are leading you.  For which, of course, they require payment! The only way to rid yourself of them is to take a few swift turnings - at which point you've got lost, and have to ask someone else to show you the route back to the Djemma el Fna!  By the end of the morning I had perfected the age-old technique of navigating by the sun to find my way out.

After 2 hours of failing to find the souqs, I recovered with a fresh O-J in the square (3 dhirams), and retreated to Hotel Ali for a breather.  On the second attempt, I found my way into the souqs, another maze of dark alleyways, with no end of shop-owners keen to entice you into their shops. You can try hiding behind dark glasses to avoid their keen gaze, but in the dimly-lit souqs, it means you can't see a thing! But even in the semi-darkness, there is no mistaking where you are; Marrakech is a veritable feast of not only sight, but sounds and smells.

Late in the afternoon, the storms returned to give an impressive light and sound display over Marrakech.  Our room at the Hotel Ali had a balcony of sorts - only with no door.  By climbing over Sharons bed, and exiting the small window feet-first, I found my way outside to watch the spectacle.  The lightning lit up the mountains we would be travelling over tomorrow.

A lull in the rain, and Sharon and I hit the Djemma el Fna in search of food.  This is a kind of reverse meat-market - with the buyer as the meat!  As you wander through the stalls, all the vendors try to entice you in, either by subtle cajoling, or by less subtle pushing or pulling.  In the end we headed for a soup stall.  They were not touting for trade, and the benches were full of local men - had we escaped one lion's den for another?!  Noticing our interest, they kicked out 3 men sipping their mint tea, and budged up to make plenty of room for us.  Sitting among about 15 Moroccan men, we stuck out somewhat, but no-one paid us the slightest attention.  The bean soup was good - if you ignored the fact that everyone else's bowls had rather unappetising bits of meat floating in them.  I thought it better not to scruntinise them too closely......

An early start tomorrow.  6:30 breakfast, and 7:00 departure, for our 10 hour drive through the mountains to Oum Jrane.