From tajines big and small, to fes hats, incense burners, pure eucalyptus, mountains of spices, Argan oil, random colourful pots and plates, pashminas, and straw bags… There are so many things that can be bought in this shopping mecca.
Evening had crept up on us and before we knew it, the sun was gone and darkness settled over the city. At a certain point I started panicking. Lights were playing on the walls, leaving the imagination to make shapes out of shadows. The streets looked deserted apart from clusters of men sitting on stairs and smoking.
Even Eddy and Patsy had their Moroccan adventure in Marrakech. Casablanca was made famous by the eponymous classic film with Ingrid Bergman who, from all the gin joints in the world, had to walk into Humphrey Bogart’s one. And Tangier? Well I’ll just say William Burroughs wrote his Naked Lunch there.
One thing I really enjoyed was sitting on a roof terrace of one of the bars/restaurants at the square and watching the world go by, seeing little groups of people eagerly drinking in the stories told, seeing a group dancing to the rhythm of the drums or just catching a person miles away from the mayhem, deep in thought.
In my new blue babouches, wearing a long summer dress I had got for a bargain in a charity shop back home, I have to admit I felt like an under dressed Arabian princess gliding over the dark terra cotta coloured path. The scruffy looking husband in his army shorts and flat cap did not help this image.