The approach to Marra is, in fact, much more pastoral that you would imagine.
You still get to see a bit of desert and some cacti, though.
On reaching Marrakech, the immediate impression is one of beauty - the palate is colorful and exotic: salmon pink walls, strong blue skies, deep green palms.
Marrakech's most famous landmark is the Koutoubia mosque. It is surrounded by an orangerie and park and has a great calm to it. This is not what I was expecting at all!
You might remember how I said Moroccoan mosque architecture was distinctive. Well, for another difference, look at the top of the tower: no crescent moon, but three golden spheres instead.
The Koutoubia is right by Place Jemaa el Fna.
This is the square that is usually used in TV programmes or movies about Moroccoa, and it acts as the main entrance point to the souks (or markets) of the walled city. Now this place was much more like what I was expecting. You seriously do hear the snake charmers piping and smell the spices and get tussled by the crowds. And that is only the start. Once you walk inside the Medina - the actual part inside the walls that contains a maze of narrow streets full of homes, shops, workshops, restaurants, hotels, and pretty much anything you can imagine - your senses just keep getting assaulted and your nerves ever more jangled.
The Medina in Marrakech has been given UNESCO world heritage status as an example of an authentic and valuable piece of culture that needs to be protected. Going there is not an experience that everyone would enjoy, though: the colours...the smells...being buffeted along the tiny alleys...looking left at a butcher, looking right at silk shop...your way ahead suddenly blocked by a donkey and cart or a mechanical digger, sometimes both!
I always loved going in to the Medina for about the first thirty minutes. Usually by the third hour of being lost and going in ever smellier, dustier, and more disheartening circles, I was quite ready to table a UN motion to have the things razed to the ground. I feel extremely lucky to have experienced this unique cultural property, but it is best enjoyed in short bursts.
To keep your sanity, I suggest seeking out an oasis of calm after each trip to the Medina. I found three that were amazing. The first was the Jardin Majorelle. This garden surrounds the former studio of the French artist Jacques Majorelle. The plants he collected represent the continents of the world, and it is truly more work-of-art that mere garden.
The property was restored by Yves Saint Laurent and his partner on the Majorelle's death, and just being there makes you want to create more beauty in the world.
I especially loved the vibrant blue colour used throughout. Mam and Dad, are you feeling inspired?
The second was the Musee Dar Si Said. This museum lies right in the heart of the walled city and is not easy find. But your efforts are rewarded with an interesting collection of Berber arts and crafts housed in a tiled and parqueted old villa.
The third - and best - was a small gallery called the Maison de la Photographie. It was one of those places where I had one of those 'life is really good right now' moments. The exhibition was of old black and white photos of Morocco's Berber, Jew and slave populations.
It was an extremely impressive collection of photos, and I really wanted to buy a huge print of a young Moroccan woman that was just captivating, but it just wasn't practical with all the moving around I still have to do.
Then, like with the museum above, the villa that houses this exhibition is a star in its own right. Catching glimpses of the works through curtained windows or from an upper terrace or lower courtyard really made you see each piece anew several times.
And then, of course, the villa boasts the highest rooftop terrace cafe in the Medina. If you go to the Maison de la Photographie for nothing else, go there to enjoy the views over the old city with a pot of spearmint tea. You will not be disappointed.
While in Marrakech, I've tried to eat Moroccan food as much as possible. To be honest, the quality hasn't impressed me that much: I think the freshness and attention to detail in Japanese cuisine has ruined me for all other types of cooking. The two most representative dishes (which I've had many times now) are tagines and couscous. A tagine is the name for an earthenware bowl with pointed lid in which a variety of foods are oven-baked or broiled.
A good dose of spice is added to the broth before cooking, so a big part of the pleasure is the waft of fragrant steam that hits you when the lid is taken off at your table. The couscous here is also fragrant and colourful, but I find it a bit heavy and boring to eat more that once in a while.
Still, I cannot complain, the portions in Morocco are very generous, especially for the salads, and the price is generally reasonable. Having said that, pricing is fairly flexible here and they have no problem taking the liberty of rounding up a number if they don't have the correct change to give you. I guess I'm still in a mindset of Japanese precision.
I know these notes are giving a very rose-tinted view of my trip - the best and most memorable of my experiences. But there have been times when I have been totally fed up with moving around and where I have sorely wanted to be somewhere familiar. A terrible tiredness and despair can suddenly come upon you when the language and place and culture are so alien that even the simplest tasks, like finding a loo or getting a cup of coffee, can take on epic proportions. But these low times have been and far between. I just wanted to mention them to give you a fuller feel for what my last couple of weeks have been like.
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