Kittens and tat

The second part of my holiday at least saw better weather but the heat set in, and with it the flies and coupled with the noise and the crowds at times it was a bit stressful.  Marrakech is full of mewing kittens and stalls covered in tat, I mean colourful junk that only a magpie would be attracted to.  It was billed as some kind of shoppers paradise but really - leather slippers in every colour known to man?  The best item I saw was a T-shirt, on the only manikin outside a shop (therefore one of their best items?) and the slogan read 'Hello Munich!'

I found the McDonalds in Guerliz and drank a Fanta elated with relief that I knew what I was getting and how much it would cost, and wouldn't have to argue with the stated price for ten minutes.  It's a strange thing because i don't really drink but I've never craved a beer so much in my life, sure there must have been establishments around the city that sold beer but I didn't see any, and I wasn't going hunting for beer.  I'm not at that stage yet, but I'll be having one tonight.

The British Foreign Office had mentioned keeping an eye on Middle Eastern events because Morocco is very sensitive to what happens elsewhere, so when bin Laden was killed, well... But there seemed to be a few Israeli tourists around so I thought as long as they are smiling the situation is stable.  I kept finding myself back in the parks under the orange trees and the tall palms, where the turtles waddled around the paths and swallows darted just over your heads.  The Jardin Princess Laila Hasna is in my top three of peaceful places on the planet along with the Top of the Rock in New York and the central park in Arezzo, Italy.  It's a stunted list but they're my choices, the park has three security guards, you literally aren't allowed to do much other than sit quietly and enjoy the evening sun and the roses smelled amazing. 

Otherwise the food I ate was so bad that I began relying on dates and bottled water more and more, I think on the fourth and fifth day about 90% of my calories came from these, and the only other culinary success was the Patisserie des Princes near the square which did beautiful French pastries.  I salvaged two croissants for my final days trek across the city to the airport, sick of bartering and being harangued in French I'd decided to walk it and not stand arguing with a taxi driver for twenty minutes.  by the time I arrived I was drenched and had to get changed in the car park, it was really hot.  To give you an idea on the walk to the aiport I drank 4.5 litres of water!  I am realising I am a bit of a home bird, Manchester kind of has everything you need, and if you add Rivington to that you have beautiful countryside too.  And the food here is the best the world has to offer.  Is it a sign of getting old to love your home more and foreign adventures less?

Anyway, my next break comes in July, three days on the Isle of Man, should be much more relaxing!

Still In One Piece

Even glide is too choppy a verb for how Ryan air lets you pass through airports nowadays.  No one asked for my passport, did you pack this yourself, have you left it unattended, has anyone given you anything to carry!  Just a five foot policewoman with a huge machine gun, and I thought, surely a pistol or a rifle would be enough?  She might encounter a terrorist but would she really encounter several terrorists and be able to pump away like Rambo spraying bullets everywhere? 

My holiday mostly involved people watching, and being woken up by the call to prayer in the early hours of the morning. Marrakech is about as big as Bolton and entirely clad in concrete the colour of overcooked salmon.  It smells of wee, basically, (trying to give you a mental picture) wee and leather and two stroke oil and perhaps raw liver.  The laws we hold dear in this country of cars on the road - people on the pavement, are blurred there somewhat and vehicles and pedestrians seem to follow a predestined, synchronised course between each other, sometimes at high speed.

The Cafe Argana, which was bombed earlier in the week, is bang in the centre, on the main square.  Considering the schism in everyday life that 9/11, the Madrid bombings and June 7^th bombings in London caused it was strange to see life had returned to normal within two days.  Was it insensitive that western tourists were cavorting around the site day and night?  What would Bush have said about thousands of Arab tourists swarming over ground zero with smiles and snapping cameras?  Anyway there were obvious tensions what with bin Laden’s demise and anti-government demonstrations in the square but the city rolled on as usual.

Arab society does seem peaceful and built around community, in the evenings I liked to sit in the park surrounded by couples and families who did very little other than chat, hold hands and watch their kids run in circles.  Maybe we don’t have the climate, but when it is nice we sit in our own personal gardens or go to the pub, it just seemed more sociable in Marrakech.  I never shifted the feeling of being an outsider though, even amongst tourists it seemed to be more of a couples and family destination rather than backpackers, adventurers and single people – and 95% of the tourists were French and very comfortable sauntering around – bronzed and heavy eyed.  I sat beneath the orange and the fig trees and drank spiced tea and read my book but it’s hard to overcome isolation, and when you’re completely new to a place and have four or five days to get to grips with it you have to make yourself comfortable in any way you can.