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Not the best video, but a little insight into what it’s like walking through the streets of the Medina in Marrakesh. This was on our way out.

Goodbye, Morocco!

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We took full advantage of the option to hire the woman at our riad to show us how to cook a Moroccan meal. Her name was Aisha and she was the best. She spoke French, and she made a chicken and vegetable tagine and a veggie-loaded couscous. It was the best meal we’ve had so far, even topping our favourite restaurant.

Will Sara and I be able to recreate it on our own? At least we have a better chance than when we blindly tried to make all the delicious Cuban meals we had on that trip. (We failed. Miserably.)

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Walking back to our riad and ducking through the door.

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Some tasty moroccan smoothies, beers, and bites. Only select places have a license to sell alcohol so it wasn’t easy to find, and the restaurant clearly catered to tourists (wifi, drinks, and smooth jazzy beats playing that reminded me of the pubs and restaurants in Europe). But the Moroccan salads were delicious and the beers were even better than expected, coming from a country that generally doesn’t drink alcohol.

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Dear germaphobes: Morocco might not be the place for you.

Vendors handle cash and the food at the same time with their bare hands. I haven’t seen a disposable glove in my time here. The woman in the photo handed the man a coin and he pulled out some bread from somewhere (I wouldn’t even have known he was selling bread). When we bought prickly pear fruit to try, the seller rinsed them in a bucket of water that had money in it (but you didn’t eat the skin of the fruit, so it wasn’t a big deal).

In Canada, and especially post-pandemic, things like light switches and hand rails are frequently wiped clean, but I don’t think that happens often here. We walked into one of the little roadside restaurants and Sara asked “is that the kitchen?” And then “should we go somewhere else?” The counter had dishes scattered around - some dirty, some clean, and the dish cleaning station was rather questionable. Meat vendors have cuts of meat on a tray in the sun on the street, and at one of the places we ate the man serving us offered a taste of the food from a spoon that he just used to taste himself. If you can overlook these things, you’re good to go!

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I really couldn’t capture how it felt to walk around the streets of the Medina in Marrakesh today. For one, it’s so busy and bustling and there is so much to see that I’d rather be in the moment than behind my phone. Plus the people here generally don’t like having their picture taken, which I understand and respect.

Anything I read about the Moroccan cities is that you should plan to get lost in the Medina and I totally see why. The streets are nothing at all like what we are used to. Narrow, winding, and seemingly without rhyme, reason or flow. Even with a good sense of direction you really get turned around. Traffic is everything from cats and kids to bicycles and motorbikes, locals who know where they’re going and tourists who are mostly in the way. But everyone moves, and faster than you’d expect. The streets are uneven with some bricks missing and others protruding, potholes of various sizes and wet spots of unknown origin, and raw chicken bits tossed out for the cats. We’d pass a vendor of sweet baked goods and get an appetizing air of delicious nuts and honey, followed immediately by a vendor who is literally skinning and chopping pieces of animal protein - something that almost makes me gag. Vendor after vendor have the same items for sale and you have to haggle to get a good deal. In the big square there were people selling cheap sunglasses and all kinds of rocks, spices, and clothing (possibly Moroccan, possibly cheap Chinese knockoffs being sold as authentic). There were also people in traditional costumes asking to take their photo, or to see their snake, or to pet their monkey on a chain - all for a fee. Otherwise though, the vendors in the streets weren’t pushy. Some would ask you to have a look at their items but none were aggressive. La Shokran was our word of the day - no thank you.

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Marrakesh.

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This is a bit of an inside joke, but one we want to remember. Last night Rob and Sara came down from the terrace (the third story of our riad in Marrakesh that is completely outdoors) and were excited to tell us that they saw the moon coming up and how nice it looked. Alan and I went up a bit later to check it out and couldn’t see a moon anywhere. Sara told us where to stand and pointed to where they saw it and I couldn’t help but think of how weird it was that the moon was in the same place as when they saw it over 30 minutes ago. Alan and I pointed out a few times that we saw a satellite dish but hadn’t spotted the moon. Then we all started laughing out loud, because Sara realized it was a satellite dish the whole time, and confessed that both her and Rob thought it was the moon and even took some (now hilarious) photos. The second photo is Rob this morning showing us the actual moon, but we didn’t believe him until we saw it.

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A decent “car photo” of the Atlas Mountains from our trip between Skoura and Marrakesh.

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The olive trees are plenty and the host at the hotel in Skoura told us it’s time to harvest and make olive oil. We also got a couple pomegranates off the trees, though most of them were split open and done. I’ve never thoroughly enjoyed eating a pomegranate until I tried fresh ones in Morocco!

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Our guest house in Skoura was really lovely. This was our overnight point between the desert stay and Marrakesh. This is when my fever really took over, so most of my enjoyment was the bed. But the place and staff were very thorough and helpful. They even sent herbal tea to the room for me when I missed dinner because I was sick. The photo of the greenery is the garden down beside the ‘hotel’ and the third photo is a view of the houses on the other side.

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Another cat friend, a Moroccan jade plant, some pretty flowers, and a speeding ticket. There’s police checks and radar all over and first police officers to pull us over for speeding laughed at a silly Canadian joke Pierre made and let us go. The second time we got pulled over (different officers), they gave us a speeding ticket. 150 dirhams; just under $20CAD. The next day we got pulled over again on the other side of town and it was the same two guys that gave us the ticket the day before. One officer was already laughing at us, the other came and shook Pierre’s hand and then showed him the photo they got of him from the radar car several kilometres back. They let us go that time but basically said “‘maybe just slow down.”

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The region and gorge of Dades. The viewpoint of the switchback road was something we saw while researching the area. It’s a long distance between Erg Chebbi and the city of Marrakesh, so we split it into two days of travel. Despite the fever that I had creeping on at this point, this area was probably some of my favourite scenery.

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More pictures from the car trip between our desert camp and the area of Dades.

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Our luxury desert camp. Each tent had a washroom and beds with extra thick blankets for those cold nights in the desert. Dinner was served in a communal tent and then the staff lit a fire and played Berber music (singing and drums) around the fire. The stars and milky way were also a popular sight.

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Sunset in Erg Chebbi.

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Some photos from the camel ride into Erg Chebbi, which is the area of dunes formed by wind-blown sand.