13 January is a red-letter day in
my life. It's the birthday of my first born, Mary Elizabeth Joseph, Maya to her
parents, relatives and friends. She was turning 40. Each birthday of your child
reminds you that you are that much closer to your own grave!
Breakfast in Ryad 91, served in
the rooftop terrace, is not served a minute before 8 am. I wanted to get away
as quickly as possible to Marrakech, mostly to escape the city traffic in
Casablanca. The coffee served in the restaurant is fantastic. This day I didn't
have time to wait for a second cup. The same three varieties of bread - Babout,
Harsha and Msemmen - with strawberry jam and white butter and a freshly
squeezed glass of orange juice got me ready to walk from the hotel to the car
rental. It was a bit more than a km to the parking lot of the car rental. I
loaded the luggage into the car and arranged things inside as I wanted it to be
for the first leg of the journey. I must say that I was a bit jumpy because of
the accident I experienced in Amman, Jordan.
Fahd, the executive of AirCars,
the car rental company, wished me luck on the trip and waved me goodbye as I
eased on to the busy road. The traffic at 9 am wasn't quite as busy to be
deemed crazy. My first concern was to find a fuel station as the gas tank
reading showed zero! As soon as I got out of the main city area I drove into
one and tanked up. The fuel in Morocco is quite expensive at about Rs. 115 per
litre for petrol. The gas stations have only one variety of petrol. In the car
rental office, I was told to ask for 'Essence', which is the right fuel for the
MG3 I had rented. With that done and a visit to the men's room, I was set for
the highway.
The speed limits, I was coached
by the rental company, were to be strictly adhered to because there are cameras
everywhere as well as mobile checking units. The speed limit in cities is
normally 40 and 60 kph, while on the highway it is 100 or 120 kph. Once I got to
the tolled A3, it was 120 kph all the way through for 210 km. This much must be
said for the roads on the route to Marrakech - it is awesome with not one
pothole or poor carpeting. An average speed of 90 kph can be maintained without
stress. Moreover, disciplined lane driving ensured that the throughput on the motorway
remains high. Radar controls are many, and I did see many mobile police units. Maybe,
this eliminated rash and negligent driving.
I drove 210 km of the 250 km to
Marrakech on the motorway and paid 80 MAD, roughly Rs. 780, as toll fee. The
almost Rs. 4 per km may seem high, but the speed potential and savings in fuel
and wear and tear are substantial. In our country, we hear of space technology
being used for building roads and highways being built to American standards. I
would suggest that they rather use the technology used in Morocco and build
highways and motorways to Moroccan standards. The size of its economy is
nowhere near the top world economies but is among the top 5 in Africa. However,
the infrastructure is strong enough to support robust manufacturing growth,
tourism and agriculture. And more is being built to cater to the Football World
Cup Morocco will be hosting in 2030.
The Riad I had booked in Marrakech
was right in the heart of the old town. I found a parking lot quite close to
the Riad Maison Aicha and sought the help of a guy assisting the parking
attendant to take me to the accommodation. The parking attendant overcharged
me, as I understood from the Riad later. But I was comforted by the fact that
the car was parked not far from the accommodation.
The street to the
accommodation was so narrow in some places I wondered if I would be able to go
through after a full meal. The access was not clean, and construction work was
ongoing in many places. I felt I had made the wrong choice. However, once the
door to the accommodation was opened it was a different ambience altogether.
One thing, though, the rooms were small and the bathrooms are tiny. One should
be prepared for a no-frills experience. Said, the youngster minding the
accommodation, helped me with the luggage to the first-floor room.
I didn't take much time to settle
in the accommodation. I walked out of the accommodation and got immersed in the
walk in the souqs of Marrakech, an experience like no other in the world, I am
sure. Principal among the souqs of Marrakech is the Souk Semmarine, which is
labelled as the Bond Street of Marrakech. It runs north from the Djemaa el-Fna
to the Ben Youssef Medersa and merges with Souk Nejjarine and Souk El-Kebir.
Running off this main arterial souq is a whole slew of smaller souks dedicated
to particular crafts such as carpets, textiles, babouche, leather hides,
lanterns, spices, antiques, pottery, metalwork, wool, perfume and more. In
short, you can shop for virtually everything here.
Another thing that can be
experienced along the way are premium hammams and spa. There are quite a few of
them. In the Souq el Jeld, the one for tan leather, one of the guys started
singing Yeh Dosti, the song from Sholay and I joined him in full throated
singing. It was an amazing experience. For those seeking historical experiences
are the Marrakech Museum, the Museum of Confluences, traditional and lavish old
Riads, Marrakech Museum, Le Jardin Secret, Medresa ben Yousef and the like.
Entrance fee is typically 100 MAD per adult foreigner; a bit steep, I thought.
I exited the labyrinthine souqs
onto the Jemaa el-Fna Square. With hectic preparations going on to set up
temporary vending outlets in the Square I cut across the Square and decided to
explore the Koutoubia Mosque first. After the previous versions were brought
down to correct the alignment of the qibla, the current Koutoubia Mosque was
built around 1199. The 77-meter minaret is composed of three elements and is
decorated with various geometric patterns and topped with a spire and metal
orbs. It is said to have inspired other buildings such as the Giralda in
Seville and the Hassan Tower in Rabat. The minaret is considered an urban
landmark and an important symbol of Marrakech. Entry into the mosque is limited
to Muslims.
The Jemaa el-Fna Square is one of
the main cultural spaces in Marrakesh and has evolved into one of the symbols
of the city since its foundation in the eleventh century. It represents a
unique concentration of popular Moroccan cultural traditions performed through
musical, religious and artistic expressions. When I reached the massive square,
portions of which were being in relaid, a large number of teams were pushing
handcarts and wheel barrows with what looked like stagings to set up temporary
stalls.
It was amazing to see how quickly the stalls were set up for vending
fruit juices, selling dry fruits, shots of Moroccan coffee and teas and
eateries. Within the hour the massive square was full of stalls and the loud
and gay vendors started soliciting customers. I was addressed variously as Hey
Moustache, Biriyani, Indian, etc. I smiled at them, waved at times, and moved
on. Besides the stalls, there were a large number of Senegalese moving around
selling watches, sunglasses, perfumes and garments. It was indeed once of the
finest experiences I have had in a city.
Tempted though I was to try some
traditional food in one of the stalls, I sauntered into the lovely Argana
restaurant that faced the massive square and the Koutoubia minaret. I was
famished but was intent on avoiding meat as much as possible. I ordered a plate
of couscous and a cup of Cafe au Lait. A couple of maida and wheat Khobz with
coffee came first. The waiter placed a small bottle of water too on the table
who also mentioned that it was free and that I could ask for more. The couscous
was superior in taste and content than the one I had had the previous night in
Casablanca. The soup provided as an accompaniment was so tasty that I got an
extra helping to soak the Khobz in. The meal was so filling that I decided to
skip dinner.
I walked back to the
accommodation through the Souq Semmarine. Things had quieted down and many
shops had already closed for the day. The loud banter and soliciting had died
down. It had started getting quite cold too. I sought refuge in my room and
rested to prepare for the activities of the next day.
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