Marrakesh

After a speedy breakfast the following morning, we headed straight back to the train station to purchase tickets to Marrakesh, keen to make a start on our long eight our day of train travel.  However, once again, we were resigned to Moroccan time, with the train we had hoped for being unavailable.  So it was a one and a half hour wait before we were able to finally get going.  The journey was long, hot and tiring, despite the fact that we had once again opted for first class tickets.  It began on a promising note as we ended up sharing a compartment with a lovely Australian couple, one of whom spoke French and we were able to ask to book us some accommodation in Marrakesh.  After chatting away for the first hour of the journey, we were interrupted by some other passengers boarding the train who claimed we were sitting in their seats.  We hadn't realised that the seats we allocated, so it meant a huge drama with the train conductor escorting us to our proper seats in the next carriage, which seemed packed to capacity with what seemed like an entire regiment of the Moroccan army, travelling with everything bar the kitchen sink.  Eventually after being shunted with luggage in tow from one point to the other we ended up in the right place.  The journey was interesting, with different people coming and going, we met a crazy Californian chef who was a huge fan of New Zealand and keen to disucss the delights of Moroccan food with us along lots of other friendly Moroccans keen to hear about our experiences in their country.

On arrival in Marrakesh we were struck with the difference between it and Fez, where we had disembarked onto a mere dirt platform.  Marrakesh station was bright and shiny and we quickly grabbed a taxi which whisked us along the broad palm tree lined avenues towards the medina.  Having booked our hotel earlier that day we asked our driver to drop us as close as possible, however as cars are not able to access some of the narrow streets we were told we would have to walk the remainder of the way on foot.  Before we knew it we were hopelessly lost in the maze of lanes, with our map and Tim's GPS along with the Arabic street signs serving more to confuse us more than anything.  Even after being given directions by a lovely guy giving out leaflets we were still no closer to our destination.  Eventually a shop keeper suggested that he could arrange for a small boy to escort us to our hotel, for whose service we would only need to part with a few coins.  Returning a minute or two later with a not-so-small boy we were on our way to the hotel at last, arriving after a five minute walk.  After handing over the agreed few coins and being told that he deserved more for his services, we managed to get rid of our escort and check into our new riad.  This one had been recommended by a fellow traveller we had met at our last riad in Fez, and was pretty spectacular, with the rooms set around a central courtyard home to a beautifully inviting swimming pool.

 After dumping our luggage we headed straight for the central square for our first experience of Marrakesh's most famous spectacle, the Djemaa el-Fna, or main square.  With the evening drawing in, the square was coming to life with the hundreds of food stalls that are set up each night beginning their trade, smoke rising into the air from the barbecues.  The air was filled with the scent delicious food, fresh mint and spices.  Wandering around the stalls we decided to check out what was on offer for dinner.  Tim was captivated by the stalls serving sheep head on stopping to have a look we were encouraged to take a seat.  Without even having to order, plates of 'meat' doused in a tasty sauce and sprinkled with spices were placed in front of us.  With not a knife or fork in sight, hunks of bread were provided in place of utensils.  Surprisingly the meal was absolutely delicious, the meat was so flavoursome, and so long as you didn't think or look to much at what it really was, it was an amazing meal.