Medina

Just returned to our hotel after an exhausting day in Marrakesh. We got up at 3:00 am to take a flight from Madrid and arrived in Morocco a bit peckish and discovered that Lauren made a hotel reservation at a "rait" ( one of the private homes converted into a sort of B and B)in a town that was 120 km away. She was mortified, so to add salt to the wounded ego, we were compelled to jump in a rattle trap, smoke stained, dented cab with an "I-only-speak-Arabic" sinister looking driver ( I use the term "driver" generously- evidently they ran out of paint for traffic lanes many years ago and we have seen only 3 stop signals in a city of 750,000 motorists). He dropped us off in a maze of alleys, donkey carts and kaftans in the Medina (the old, old, old walled section unchanged since 1127 - not some sort of cute OLDE TOWNE but a dark but colorful, narrow, covered rabbit warren of blacksmiths, leather workers, woodcarvers, silversmiths, ceramic vendors and the ubiquitous hawking rug, spices, dried fruits and nut sellers. Everyone has a 5' wide by 8' deep stall filled with their particular raw material, tools, inventory and a little stool or bench and are busily working, working, gossiping, working. The sounds, smoke, smells are overwhelming. The wall-to-wall/stall-to-stall crowd is forced ahead by unexpected and impatient motorcyclists. Clarke would LOVE it!!!

Found a place to stay and then, pretty atypically, we hired a guide who took us by the hand, introduced us to his many "friends" and spent a good part of the day hitting on Lauren. We saw many famous extraordinary sights but the best part was going behind closed doors, up hidden staircases and down narrow alleys. If there is a Moroccan Mafia, we are convinced that Shafik is a major player. He confronted the snake charmers about their unprofessionalism (we'd asked him to inquire about the rumor that some of the owners sew the cobras' lips together - they don't sew them, they GLUE them), he poured mint tea from a height of 18" like a pro and got us a great deal on tomorrow night's rait -a room in a private home owned by an excentric Berber adventurer and his British wife. At many points today, I turned to Lauren with a look that said "this is the part where the mother and daughter get kidnapped and randsomed" but somehow Allah was watching over us.

We heard the call to prayer very moment that I thought we would never be seen again. We were led back down into the twisted alleys of the medina, which smelled of spices, teas, dried fruits, leather, machine oil, wool. So, of course, we bought a rug, but we also exercised some good judgement when it came to trying and buying "herbs" at the Bedouin herbalists. Also politely declined to have our teeth pulled in the Djemaa el Fna - a HUGE outdoor market that is filled 24 hours a day with food vendors, musicians and performers.

Tomorrow we're off to arrange a trip to the Atlas Mountains with Touregs as our protectors or, not any less ambitious, go back to the Medina to get those slippers we've promised everyone.

Inshallah,

Tina

P.S. Sorry the blog isn't being fed as regularly as when we were in Italy. This adventure is MUCH more unplanned and internet access is HIGHLY irregular. Suffice it to say that since it IS travel2art.blogspot.com, we spent all day yesterday in Madrid at Sorolla's home/ studio/museum and at The Prado. Art on the walls was nothing like BEING a part of it today. Pictures when we return for those interested.