Ohhhhh Dear, is this a different blog-post than what you are used to... Hang in there.
I arrived with A in Marrakech yesterday early afternoon. The second we stepped out of the plane, I could feel the difference between the culture (Paris) I came from and the culture I arrived in (Marrakech). The weather. The colors. The people. The attitude. The stares. The comments. The urge. The stress. The confuse. The constant impressions. Just after a few minutes, I felt a brain-overload. There was so much to see. So many to attend to. So many times where I would have wished, that my eyes could capture the pain in people's faces as a photo. No, really. Let me start from the beginning.
We did arrive in Marrakech. I'm still fascinated by the fact that a 3-hour plane trip can cause a total culture-chok. I feel like we're in a different world. Literally.
Every written guide about Marrakech there is to be found, will tell you that they overprice everything, and that you have to bargain with every suggested price you get... So when our taxi-driver suggested 150 Dirham (50 kroner) for the trip from the airport to our hotel, we somehow landed on 70 (23 kroner). Quite good start.
Most of the photos you'll see below were some I snapped from inside the taxi. I was so fascinated by the rush, that I hoped to capture some of it on paper... Or in this case; screen.
I don't know if there's any way for me to express just how much of a rush there is: People shout, people laugh, cars honk and horses, donkeys, cats, and dogs wander the street as if they were human beings. And it's just like that.
So, to be honest, it was fairly confusing to arrive in this city.
We arrived from the dirty streets to our hotel. From outside it looked like nothing. It really did. When our taxi driver said we had arrived, I thought he was joking. We knocked on the door, when a woman opened it, and immediately gave you a feeling of comfort, silence and calmness. We walked inside, and I swear to God............. This must be what Paradise is like. And outside must be what Hell feels like. Look at the picture.
We unpacked and went to the rooftop terrace for tea (yes, that's what you have here).
After tea, we went outside. Despite the fact that it's twenty-something degrees, I wear long pants, a t-shirt and a big scarf rapped around my torso. You see - people are muslims here, and it's frowned upon to have naked skin. Yet again: So, so different than what you're used to.
So - we went outside. In the hassle. Put out shoes on and walked to the souk - the market. Basically, it is one big square with stalls and cafés surrounding it. I wish I had photos from the place, but I wasn't too happy to take up my camera with thousands of people just a few inches away from me. Small streets, donkeys and people shouting like crazy... Oh, you wouldn't believe it.
We spent the day in the souk and the evening in the "new" part of town. I'll tell you about that later. For now, I'm going to a mosque and to the Yves Saint Laurent museum (hehehe)... He lived here much of his life, and it's something that I can't NOT see.
I'll write tonight about day two. Should be exciting.
Much love and gros bisous