Riad Dar Hamid Hotel & Spa
With body clocks a mess, we were up for breakfast and caught up with Jason and Louisa at last. Breakfast on the terrace at Riad dar Harmid is delightful – mint tea or coffee, fresh orange juice, breads, pancakes, cakes, omelette, fruit and all of the sides. Fabulous start to the day. Booking.com supports a lot of Riad style accommodation and there are many to choose from. Every second door seems to host a Riad and I think it would be quick and easy to find a place to stay on arrival into Marrakech.
We decided to brave the heat and the medina, risking getting lost in the maze of produce and other goods on offer. There are cats everywhere! Many are scrawny even though food and water is left out for them. The crowded maze of the medina would be full of rats if it wasn’t for the cats, so they certainly earn their keep.
Daily temperatures of low to mid 40 degrees Celsius makes for challenging exploring, added to which is the jostling of the crowded, narrow lane ways that make up the medina. Still no news of my lost bag, so after spending the afternoon in the air-conditioning, the four of us headed out for dinner. We found a terrace restaurant overlooking the main square – Jamaa el Fna – and watched the sun set while chowing down on our Tagines. The hawkers in the square are persistent, to the point where the women doing the henna tattoos grab your hand and start painting before you even know what is happening. Prices everywhere are very high; no shopping for us here. The quality is poor and, well, we don’t have the room in our suitcases anyway. I’d love to try the pastries and other edible goodies, but with the heat and not knowing how long everything has been sitting around, I’m not brave enough.
Still no news on my bag and waiting a couple of days for a call or text is long enough. Colin has a tummy bug, so I called on Jason to go with me to the airport. Abdoul, our engaging breakfast host, advised that a fair taxi fare would be 80 dirhams, so Jason and I set off in search of my bag. Our taxi driver agreed to the 80 dirhams and even though the taxi was not airconditioned, the breeze coming in through the windows was lovely. When we got to the airport, our driver asked if we wanted him to wait to take us back – the line up of empty taxis explained his eagerness to wait for however long it took. After going through the security formalities of getting into the airport, I walked to the lost baggage claim office and saw my bag waiting with the others almost immediately. RAM, true to form, hadn’t been bothered to let me know my bag had been found, but I’m so relieved to see that light purple bag, I’m keen to forgive and forget (until next time!).
Such exciting news called for a celebration, so Abdoul showed us a couple of bars where we could actually get alcohol, so we set off through the stifling heat to the Grand Hotel Tazi. It was like stepping into the 1920s – a little shabby around the edges and almost airconditioned, it was nice to sit and chat for a while. The local beer, Flag Special wasn’t too bad – price-wise and taste – and much cheaper than the wine. At 75 dirhams ($11) for a small glass of wine, the 35 dirham beer was the obvious choice.
Colin wasn’t up for dinner so Jason, Louisa and I headed into the square to try one of the grill stalls that set up each evening. The sales pitch from each of the dozens of stalls was friendly and we finally fell for the trio who made us laugh and let them lead us to the basic seating. The prices seemed reasonable, so we order one salad, one couscous and our individual main meals. We should have been suspicious when three plates of everything arrived, but the serving sizes were tiny and we naively assumed they had split the full serving across three plates. How kind.
After eating very mediocre food, we went to pay, guesstimating 250 dirhams based on our order. We were shocked when we were hit with 450 dirhams, with the claim that we had had three salads and three couscous. Cheeky con artists. We reluctantly paid 400 dirhams for a very bad meal and vowed to avoid all stalls in the future. As we walked away we warned other passersby that the grill stalls were a rip off and that they cheat people, not to mention how bad the food was. Thankfully, we got away with just being ripped off, and no major tummy issues.
The next day, Colin and I ventured out to the Bahia Palace. We tried to follow google maps which said the palace was only a 20 minute walk, but when we arrived back at our start point in the Medina we realised we had gone in a great big circle. Wisely, we made our way to the big square and decided to use a tok tok to get us to where we wanted to go. Our driver was delighted to get $USD7 after quoting us 50 dirhams and gave us directions to nearby points of interest.
The palace was built in the 19th century, Bahia meaning brilliance. It was built to house the harem of Si Moussa and is an extensive series of rooms that face onto fruity gardens and two squares. After independence from France in 1956, the palace was used as a royal residence until it was transferred to the Moroccan Ministry of Culture as a cultural icon and tourist attraction. Sadly, all but one of the rooms are empty and there are signs of wear and tear. At 70 dirhams for the tourist entry price, it would be wonderful to see the rooms furnished to illustrate the different uses and periods of time over the past 140 or so years. After our self-guided tour, we sat at a nearby café and enjoyed watching the street action while we ate a light lunch.
Louisa booked us all onto a High Atlas day tour so after an early breakfast at our wonderful Riad, we walked to the pick up point. As we entered the bus the guide asked how much Spanish we spoke – not a good sign. The drive to our first stop was interesting and a good chance to see Marrakech beyond the walls. We couldn’t understand what the guide was telling us as we made our way to the mountains as he only spoke in Spanish, but the scenery and some help from our fellow travellers to translate made for an interesting, if cramped and warm drive. Officially renamed the ‘gnome bus’, we did our best to be comfortable, heaving huge sighs of relief when we made our first stop. Typically designed as a shopping opportunity, we ignored the goods and enjoyed the views. The altitude also made for slightly cooler weather.
We journeyed on to a Berber town and were taken to a women’s cooperative where jobs for women are created producing Argan oil products. After the Argan oil making song, we were shown into the shop where the shopping fun began. Colin and Jason had avoided most of the promotional stuff and had a chat with one of the Berber villagers who was outside the cooperative selling leather bags and other goods. I think trade was rather slow. Louisa and I fell for the hard sell and bought a couple of bottles of Argan oil products. It’s all in support of a good cause.
Our drive into the mountains continued and the stop for lunch looked out over more spectacular scenery. It is still amazing how many towns and villages are dotted throughout the area. Some of the villages are tiny, and making your way to the nearest major town seems to be by scooter over dirt roads. I imagine many villages would be closed off during the rainy season and there must be a lot of rebuilding of mud bricks. Lunch was better than expected and at 70 dirhams, was good value for the salad, water, tagine (of course) and fruit for desert. We were introduced to our English guide, Amil, who lives in one of the nearby villages and is of Berber decent. We warmed to him immediately – he was very friendly and happy.
After lunch, we set off on our one hour walk to the waterfalls. The higher altitude made for a cooler walk, moving along rough tracks past local homes and across small rivers. Lots of opportunities for great photos and Amil enjoyed playing cheeky games with our phones. We learned there are seven main villages in the area, which means seven mosques. Every town we passed has a mosque, which is usually the best kept building in each village. Amil pointed out walnut trees, blackberry bushes, and other fruit bearing trees. It’s a lush and bountiful area; when he shared yellow plums with us from his mother’s house, it made the whole journey just that more enchanting. Colin’s donation of five dirhams for the plums to the little girl holding them in her bucket earned a gleeful gloat to her mother in the house.
The walk following the irrigation channels continued past various vendors selling food products and trinkets; the most fascinating was the bread oven churning out fresh flat bread. Small walking bridges to get across the wider parts of the stream only allowed for one way traffic, which being busy made for slow progress to the falls.
It has been a couple of months since the snow melt so the falls were something of a disappointment, but it certainly didn’t stop the crowds. Getting a clear photo was a challenge of dodging sight seers, vendors (yes, you can get a hot coffee!) and locals enjoying the cool water. Australian safety officials would not approve – if you didn’t watch your step you would fall down the rocks into the shallow stream. And it would hurt.
We retraced our steps and took a cheeky moment to sneak into the Kasbah which was unoccupied at the moment. Normally there is a charge to go in, but with no-one manning the gate, Amil snuck us in for some quick photos.
As we wandered back to town to get our transfer back to Marrakech, Amil explained that most of the area we were walking over is underwater during the wet period. Water still rushed along the waterways, and it would be impressive to see in full flow. The shady clearings, sun-dappled by overhead canopies of gnarled tree trunks made for fairy settings perfect for picnics as we walked.
We said goodbye to Amil and reluctantly returned to the gnome bus for the drive back to Marrakech. It had been a lovely break from the heat, cramped conditions aside, but as we had missed much of the explanation of the day, we were not aware that we still had one more stop to make. Clearly not retracing our steps, we seemed to drive forever, the skies getting heavier and the wind picking up. By the time we pulled in to the last stop, our camels were grumbling in the rain and wind. This was not looking good. No-one was keen to brave the elements; the rain was getting heavier, the wind was getting stronger and the camels were getting grumpier. It was really cold when you got wet, so our guide had one of the camels brought over so that those who were interested could play dress up in traditional dress and sit on the camel for a photo.
The sweet mint tea we were served was a welcome warmer before we reboarded the gnome bus for the rest of our trip. The thunderstorm and downpour even managed to fill the rivers and streams. Yesterday I would not have believed we would see the raging torrent of red water we drove across on our way home.
It was a long day, but well worth it. We grabbed a quick dinner at our favourite restaurant and crashed.
After a quiet day recuperating, we were ready to hit the road again for our adventure into the Sahara Desert. Check out the details here. Thanks for Moroccan Global Adventures for a brilliant three day trip. It’s a long way to Erg Chebbi, but the scenery and the sites are worth it.
We enjoyed our last day in Marrakech, saying goodbye to our wonderful riad and the staff. Jason and Louisa leave for Porto tomorrow, while Colin and I need to find the bus station and try our first long haul bus to Essaouira. Marrakech has been a delight for the senses. I wasn’t looking forward to it with great anticipation after watching too many youtubers complain about the cons and rip offs. Yes, we got ripped off by the grill stalls, but our experience of the restaurants, the souks and the people were very positive. The heat was a challenge, but the mornings were beautiful and I still think Townsville heat and humidity are worse. The people are very welcoming and the hospitality is lovely. The smells are wonderful – spices and tasty food cooking everywhere. Thank you Marrakech for a wonderful start to our journey.