We spent more than we needed to for an airport transfer through Viator. It was comforting, in an unfamiliar foreign country, having the security of someone waiting with your name on a sign while you go through the long lineup for Morrocan immigration. I believe that nearly all world passports are machine readable, but for some reason the information was being hand entered by the agents.
We picked up our one medium suitcase (the Camino does have that impact, learning to travel on the light side), which was nicely shrink wrapped by the airline for its layover in Casablanca.
It was the end of a long day, so first impressions were tainted with tiredness. Marrakech's medina is an overwhelming crowded maze by day, and at night throw in the dark to add to the confusion potential. Packs of people, neon lights, no cars, but loud mopeds scooting on the same track as pedestrians, lots of cats in front, behind and above. It was pretty much what I was expecting, C was thinking the old town would be less run down.
We are staying in a riad, a traditional guest house right in the middle of the medina. The manager met us at the point where cars were no longer permitted and walked us in.
He later walked us to a restaurant for our first tagine, one with chicken and apricots, the other lamb and prune. There we met a couple from the Netherlands, although he was originally from Iran, who gave us a course in Marrakesh 101: how to bargain, don't get directions from the young men on the street who misguide you then charge you to escort you to the correct place (use the Maps.Me offline app instead) where to eat...
We found our way back to the riad dodging mopeds and bikes, and fell into bed just before midnight.
It looks way more upscale than it is, but it's nice for a lower priced riad in the medina.
Such different world. I'm envisioning Bogey reading this.
Posted by: Kristen | January 05, 2017 at 04:48 PM