The old part of town is bound by a wall and an arched gate, typical of so many old towns in Europe and beyond. The two squares inside are trade places filled with snake charmers, fruit, vegetables, flies, smells and all sorts of fascination.
The night train to Marrakech was less than romantic - not the stuff of songs, but not too bad. The three men in the compartment slept soundly - I know. The station was clean and welcome, with taxis outside ready for the exodus, and it had been a short ride to the square in the old part of the city.
There is no way into the old town except on foot. The man and his brother Omar take our luggage to the small wooden door at the end of a dark winding alley. Inside is white and clear and spacious with the turquoise room waiting for us (despite our early arrival). The man is thankful for his payment, we are thankful for his help.
Omar leads us to a nice place to eat. After backpacker's rations and Spanish food we are ready for something really nice. It is early for lunch but we will take in the sights from the rooftop.
The discovery of wallet missing sends Richard and Omar on the search. Wallet found and Richard (now part of the family) is introduced to mother and sister and babies and brother and wife and others all living in a narrow, dark, small 'house' not far from our rooms. Treated to biscuits fresh from the oven, Richard is invited back for tea in the afternoon.
Meanwhile, thoughts of cards and police and bother run through my head and in the luxurious half hour I had on the rooftop, I prayed. Peaceful and cool, I prayed. The tables were being set and the man looked to me, concerned that he had to serve me maybe. I indicated I was praying in a very simple gesture and he nodded in complete understanding, smiled and continued his work. These people are praying people. Of course I would be praying in this alone time.
Restored and very thankful, we (and the restaurant) were ready for lunch.
Mint tea, biscuits and pastries were brought to the table.
Seven types of entree dishes astounded us.
Tagine lamb and vegetables of the most delicious kinds delighted us.
The cool breeze wafted over the rooftops and we could hear the snake charmers playing, the calls from the markets and the clatter on paths.
All calls to explore the rest of the city.
The night train to Marrakech was less than romantic - not the stuff of songs, but not too bad. The three men in the compartment slept soundly - I know. The station was clean and welcome, with taxis outside ready for the exodus, and it had been a short ride to the square in the old part of the city.
There is no way into the old town except on foot. The man and his brother Omar take our luggage to the small wooden door at the end of a dark winding alley. Inside is white and clear and spacious with the turquoise room waiting for us (despite our early arrival). The man is thankful for his payment, we are thankful for his help.
Omar leads us to a nice place to eat. After backpacker's rations and Spanish food we are ready for something really nice. It is early for lunch but we will take in the sights from the rooftop.
The discovery of wallet missing sends Richard and Omar on the search. Wallet found and Richard (now part of the family) is introduced to mother and sister and babies and brother and wife and others all living in a narrow, dark, small 'house' not far from our rooms. Treated to biscuits fresh from the oven, Richard is invited back for tea in the afternoon.
Meanwhile, thoughts of cards and police and bother run through my head and in the luxurious half hour I had on the rooftop, I prayed. Peaceful and cool, I prayed. The tables were being set and the man looked to me, concerned that he had to serve me maybe. I indicated I was praying in a very simple gesture and he nodded in complete understanding, smiled and continued his work. These people are praying people. Of course I would be praying in this alone time.
Restored and very thankful, we (and the restaurant) were ready for lunch.
Mint tea, biscuits and pastries were brought to the table.
Seven types of entree dishes astounded us.
Tagine lamb and vegetables of the most delicious kinds delighted us.
The cool breeze wafted over the rooftops and we could hear the snake charmers playing, the calls from the markets and the clatter on paths.
All calls to explore the rest of the city.
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