Cars, motorbikes and bicycles were knotted tightly on all sides and lead-ups to the roundabout. The crescendo marked the end of a dusty, gas vapour-filled day. My nose and lungs burned, my skin and hair reeked.
And this is a quieter part of Marrakesh.
Flying in from Seville, the baked, scratched and crumpled ground below was broken only by irrigated olive groves (closer to the city) and scrubby fields in shades of grey. An undulating snake of dry river bed cut the only graceful line. Houses, at first in ones and twos, then larger groups and then finally tumbled on top of one another in the city, looked like lego blocks in various shades of dusty terracotta. At ground level, these colours are only relieved by gates and doors, mostly painted mint or forest green…perhaps wishful thinking for cool groves of palms.
My first night was spent within the walls of the medina, a stone’s throw or three down a twisting alley off the Djemma el Fna. Hotel Sherazade, one of dozen’s of budget offerings was pleasant enough, except on the lowest of four levels where my room was to be found. Split into two sections, one had to climb up four flights of turreted steps, walk across the room terrace and then down another four flights of turreted steps. Each section boasts a central courtyard which serve as light and air wells, around which the rooms are stacked. The design allows for the lower levels to be protected from heat, sun and dust – ideal places to be in hot weather. But in winter, my room smells moldy and not even the arthritic heater on full blast could take the chill away. The straw broke across this camel’s back when, after night huddled under two blankets doubled, there was no hot water in the shower.
This area is like Khao San Road in Bangkok or the Pahar Ganj in Delhi…hives of activity for backpackers and hawkers of every sort imaginable. Those days are gone for me…now I am craving a more peaceful retreat days navigating the congestion.
So, this morning, I moved outside the medina into the Ville Nouvelle area – home to more of the mid and high range of hotels. Twice the price – but still only $40 a night – bought me a light-filled, tiled floor room with two canopied single beds and a spacious bathroom. Can’t figure out how to turn on the heat, though, so will be drawing myself a lovely hot bath before bedtime. I shall dream of my upcoming appointment, in two days time, to the hotel’s hammam for a scrub and steam.
It’ll be lovely and warm in there!