London Gatwick to Marrakesh Easyjet 3 hours 10 mins. About £250.00 return. Book on line, check in on line, take hand luggage only if possible as its much easier. and included in the ticket price. Extra bags are £30.00 each.
Train from Marrakesh to Fes from the main train station. Eight hours BUT the trains are exceptionally good, cheap, comfortable, clean, and air conditioned. Make sure you go first class ( prèmiere classe) which will ensure you get a seat. think the fare was £25.00. You cant book train tickets in advance so just turn up and buy one as you travel. Dead easy and all of the ticket people we met were helpful and spoke English, although we spoke to them in French.
Fes. Stayed in a riad. Booked online so we had somewhere to stay and didn't have to scrabble around looking for something after a long journey. That cost about £30.00 for both of us per night, breakfast included, and we were right in the heart of the Medina. And they came and collected us from where the taxi dropped us off.
Meknes. Petit taxi to the train station which cost about £2.00. Train from Fes to Meknes was about 30 minutes and cost about £6.00.
Found a hotel in Lonely Planet guide. Basic but clean, shared loo and shower but a basin in the room. Wifi didn't work but there was a Macca's down the road so we used that.
Twin room cost us £8.00 per night for both of us.
Rabat. Flagged down a Petit taxi in the street to the station. Train from Meknes to Rabat took about 45 mins. Another £2.00 or so. Found a hotel in Lonely Planet. That one cost about £20.00 for both of us.
Casablanca. Another easy train journey and cheap hotel. Cost about £20.00 for both of us.
Essouaira. The train doesn't go to Essouaira but you can buy a combined train/bus ticket via Marrakesh as the train company also owns the bus company. (Supr@tours). Its a four hour train ride from Casablanca to Marrakesh and we couldn't get first class as the train was full. That made the journey hot and tiring as there were no seats and no air conditioning. However, the bus station is right outside the train station entrance BUT you must go to the luggage office next door and get a ticket for each piece of baggage that needs to go in the bus hold ( and it all has to go in except your immediate hand baggage) That cost 10 dirhams each and you get a receipt which you need to show when you retrieve your bag off.
The onward coach trip is another 3 hours but its a comfortable modern and air conditioned coach.
Another hotel from Lonely Planet again - and another £30.00 for the pair of us.
Agadir. got the CTM bus to Agadir. This is the other main coach company and we got the local version which was a bit ramshackle but OK and luxurious in comparison with previous bus trips in Kazakhstan. Locals were friendly too. That cost us about £10.00 and took several hours, we got dumped off it a long way from where we wanted to be, but a passing taxi took us to the hotel we had booked.
Agadir is a resort town and so accommodation is often full so its worth booking in advance as its mostly tourist type hotels not really within walking distance of each other. The hotel we found was a small tourist hotel and we booked it online for about £35.00. It was good value too.
Marrakesh. CTM and supr@tours both do this route, both run from the main bus station, and both cost about £10.00. and use the same baggage ticket system. you can just turn up and buy a ticket but we had a long wait here as all buses were full. The when we did get on one (at 1730 hrs) it broke down and a replacement bus did not turn up for two hours. But it was ok.
Marrakesh is tourist - and so annoying and persistent tout - central and so again its worth booking accommodation on line before you get there to ensure you don't get hassle. We found a really nice riad, 200m from the main square which cost us about £170.00 for both of us for six nights. It was a little suite of rooms, breakfast included, and very good value.
Tuesday, 30 April 2013
Saturday, 27 April 2013
Home today
We ate a bit earlier last night, then went back to the riad, packed, and then went out again to by some last minute stuff to take home - like three jallabahs, some hats and some scarves.
I spent most of the night enduring stomach 'difficulties', and think I must have caught what Nadine had yesterday. So the solution was no food or drink until we get home to London. Either that or spend the flight in the loo.
The taxi we'd ordered for the airport came ten minutes early, at 0650, but we were ready anyway. The driver drove through the souk too, which was a novelty as nobody was about and the usual chaos of wares displayed and people everywhere had not yet happened. Actually, there were very few people about, and those that had ventured out were sitting outside cafes, drinking their morning tea.
Once checked in for our flight, we sat outside in the sunshine, watching newly arrived foreigners dealing with local taxi drivers as the latter tried to rip the former off for fares into town.
The bus goes straight to the main square but the taxi drivers are quite aggressive and launch into full on verbal assaults, hoping to bully people into submission. I watched one bloke have a real go at a young Japanese woman, jabbing his fingers close to her face and really having a go at her. I couldn't understand what he was saying of course, but his body language said it all. Her response was impressive though; she just stood there and looked at him, expressionless, said nothing, and when a bus arrived, stepped around him and got on it, leaving him surrounded by nothing and looking like a complete arse.
It is a real shock when you arrive somewhere like Morocco and are subjected to this full on treatment, but after a few days, you get used to it and learn how to fend them off. part of that is due to air travel though, in that there in no chance for gradual acclimatisation as there is with riding or driving.
The flight home was smooth and we landed 20 minutes earlier than scheduled.
However, Nadine was travelling on her Australian passport rather than her German one, which was not a problem on the way out, but it was getting back into the UK. She had nothing on her to prove that as a German passport holder, she had right of abode in the EU, and so was refused entry at Gatwick. Bugger. So there she was stuck on one side of the barrier, me on the other, and Gordon waiting in arrivals, expecting us at any minute. In the end, he had to drive home, collect the German passport then drive back to the airport with it. In the end, it only took two hours as we live only about 20 miles away. But the moral of the story is, if you have two passports, take them both with you. Always!!
I spent most of the night enduring stomach 'difficulties', and think I must have caught what Nadine had yesterday. So the solution was no food or drink until we get home to London. Either that or spend the flight in the loo.
The taxi we'd ordered for the airport came ten minutes early, at 0650, but we were ready anyway. The driver drove through the souk too, which was a novelty as nobody was about and the usual chaos of wares displayed and people everywhere had not yet happened. Actually, there were very few people about, and those that had ventured out were sitting outside cafes, drinking their morning tea.
Once checked in for our flight, we sat outside in the sunshine, watching newly arrived foreigners dealing with local taxi drivers as the latter tried to rip the former off for fares into town.
The bus goes straight to the main square but the taxi drivers are quite aggressive and launch into full on verbal assaults, hoping to bully people into submission. I watched one bloke have a real go at a young Japanese woman, jabbing his fingers close to her face and really having a go at her. I couldn't understand what he was saying of course, but his body language said it all. Her response was impressive though; she just stood there and looked at him, expressionless, said nothing, and when a bus arrived, stepped around him and got on it, leaving him surrounded by nothing and looking like a complete arse.
It is a real shock when you arrive somewhere like Morocco and are subjected to this full on treatment, but after a few days, you get used to it and learn how to fend them off. part of that is due to air travel though, in that there in no chance for gradual acclimatisation as there is with riding or driving.
The flight home was smooth and we landed 20 minutes earlier than scheduled.
However, Nadine was travelling on her Australian passport rather than her German one, which was not a problem on the way out, but it was getting back into the UK. She had nothing on her to prove that as a German passport holder, she had right of abode in the EU, and so was refused entry at Gatwick. Bugger. So there she was stuck on one side of the barrier, me on the other, and Gordon waiting in arrivals, expecting us at any minute. In the end, he had to drive home, collect the German passport then drive back to the airport with it. In the end, it only took two hours as we live only about 20 miles away. But the moral of the story is, if you have two passports, take them both with you. Always!!
Thursday, 25 April 2013
Exploring Marrakesh 5
Ate on the square last night having been charmed in by the waiters singing to us and practising their rhyming slang. Food was quite good except that Nadine's tagine was full of bone shards. But for a change my food was good and I got what I ordered and not somebody else's dinner. Then a little girl came to our table and begged - for just one olive - before running away, and we gave an old tramp man a loaf of bread
Had a wander down the souks after dark. They really come alive then and seem better when you've had a few days to get used to them and are not so overwhelming then.
We didn't do much thus morning as our hammam is booked for 1pm. We hung around in the square for an hour or so before it, had an ice cream and watched the acrobats tumbling.
The hammam wasn't too bad although I was a bit nervous. They gave us some strange paper knickers to wear and a towel before shooing us into a steam room where we were soaked then rubbed with eucalyptus black soap. Then we were left to steam for about 20 minutes before being scrubbed with a hard glove then shampooed and covered in a mud compound and left to steam again. Then it was another soaking before the massage bit. It was OK and I now feel exceptionally and squeakily clean but I do wonder how much of the soaking and scrubbing was them teasing us because they could, or it if was actually part of the process. no pictures of the process though - it was too steamy and oily for cameras.
I like Marrakesh but I'm now ready to move on. It's very much a tourist place although there is not much here really part from old buildings and interesting old markets but once you've seen them, there's not much else.
However, because we've spent two and a half weeks here and moved around, we've seen as much as we can in the time available, particularly given that we rode through the mountains and other bits last year , en route to The Gambia.
Sat up on the roof terrace looking overlooking rooftops this afternoon. Everywhere has a satellite dish but nobody can tell me whether any face Mecca.
And up here also, you can clearly hear the muezzins doing their stuff from all over, or surround sound as Nadine called it.
Had a wander down the souks after dark. They really come alive then and seem better when you've had a few days to get used to them and are not so overwhelming then.
We didn't do much thus morning as our hammam is booked for 1pm. We hung around in the square for an hour or so before it, had an ice cream and watched the acrobats tumbling.
The hammam wasn't too bad although I was a bit nervous. They gave us some strange paper knickers to wear and a towel before shooing us into a steam room where we were soaked then rubbed with eucalyptus black soap. Then we were left to steam for about 20 minutes before being scrubbed with a hard glove then shampooed and covered in a mud compound and left to steam again. Then it was another soaking before the massage bit. It was OK and I now feel exceptionally and squeakily clean but I do wonder how much of the soaking and scrubbing was them teasing us because they could, or it if was actually part of the process. no pictures of the process though - it was too steamy and oily for cameras.
However, because we've spent two and a half weeks here and moved around, we've seen as much as we can in the time available, particularly given that we rode through the mountains and other bits last year , en route to The Gambia.
Sat up on the roof terrace looking overlooking rooftops this afternoon. Everywhere has a satellite dish but nobody can tell me whether any face Mecca.
And up here also, you can clearly hear the muezzins doing their stuff from all over, or surround sound as Nadine called it.
Wednesday, 24 April 2013
Exploring Marrakesh 4
We booked a hammam today for tomorrow. You see them all over the place but we asked the man in the riad who recommended his friend's place two doors down and which we would never have found as its in another riad and so in an enclosed courtyard. So we'll be scrubbed with some evil looking black goo stuff then pummelled, all in the name of cleanliness tomorrow. I don't know if I'm looking forward to it; I suspect not but it has to be done.
Up the road is the unruined Bahia Palace, which is opulent and magnificent, although not that old (1860s) and is only now used now as a tourist thing.
The garden is full of orange and banana trees, plus some other pretty trees we don't know the names of.
The old Jewish quarter is at the side of the palace so we took another look around there, having only wandered through a bit if it yesterday. This is apparently a very poor neighbourhood, but not as poor as it once was when the Jews lived there as they were confined to it, even in the early part if the 20th century, courtesy of the French who imposed it upon them when they established the Protectorate in 1912.
The main market is mostly foodstuffs and the ever present spices, as well today, some workmen unblocking the public toilets. It seemed like a sort of extreme sport though, with one brave bloke dangling down the sewer with his arm poking out of the manhole while clinging on with the other.
We're currently eating lunch in a cafe terrace overlooking the square and where those pesky snake charmers can't see us taking pictures.
The gardens behind the Koutoubia Mosque in central Marrakesh provide welcome shade from the heat that pounds down on the square. Divided into various beds of roses and with alleys radiating out from a central but empty fountain, the somewhat wild grass is very lush and cool, with benches all along the little walkways. It's a very French looking park.
The white square tomb of Fatima Zohra is next-door....she was the doughtier of a 17th century religious bloke, and was reputed to be a woman by day and a white dove by night. children are named after her for blessings.
The mosque minaret is huge and towers over the centre of the city but like most mosques, non Muslims are banned from entering it or it's minaret. Its 70 m high and until the 1990 was covered by pink plaster but when it was renovated, all that came off and the original sandy coloured stone was exposed. It is also the minaret that subsequent minarets were based on, like the giant Hassan 2nd Mosque in Casablanca and La Giralda in Seville, Spain.
Another interesting fact is that there was a previous mosque on the same site but it wasn't properly lined up with Mecca, so it was knocked down and a 'new one' - which itself dates from the 12th century - was built in its place.
As we walked back to the square, the afternoon call to prayer started. None of the mosques in Morocco use recordings but they do use wired in megaphones. Having been in the country for two and a bit weeks now, it's one of those sounds that has blended into the background and we hardly notice it anymore, but we did today because the muezzin was having a bit of trouble. He started off ok then stopped, then there was a bit of huffing and puffing, paper shuffling then muttering under his breath as if he'd forgotten the words. He recovered quickly and started again but his voice cracked and he coughed. And if course, this was all broad cast over the tanoy to the city centre and the ears of locals and tourists alike. There were a few smiles and sniggers at ground level but then it all carried on as normal as it does five timed a day, everyday.
There was a minor kerfuffle in the alleyway outside our room when we got in this afternoon. Its open air but covered by branch matting and one of the local cats - presumably a fat one - whilst tiptoeing across it, fell through and on to the people below, leading to lots of shouting and catawauling.
Up the road is the unruined Bahia Palace, which is opulent and magnificent, although not that old (1860s) and is only now used now as a tourist thing.
The garden is full of orange and banana trees, plus some other pretty trees we don't know the names of.
The old Jewish quarter is at the side of the palace so we took another look around there, having only wandered through a bit if it yesterday. This is apparently a very poor neighbourhood, but not as poor as it once was when the Jews lived there as they were confined to it, even in the early part if the 20th century, courtesy of the French who imposed it upon them when they established the Protectorate in 1912.
The main market is mostly foodstuffs and the ever present spices, as well today, some workmen unblocking the public toilets. It seemed like a sort of extreme sport though, with one brave bloke dangling down the sewer with his arm poking out of the manhole while clinging on with the other.
We're currently eating lunch in a cafe terrace overlooking the square and where those pesky snake charmers can't see us taking pictures.
The gardens behind the Koutoubia Mosque in central Marrakesh provide welcome shade from the heat that pounds down on the square. Divided into various beds of roses and with alleys radiating out from a central but empty fountain, the somewhat wild grass is very lush and cool, with benches all along the little walkways. It's a very French looking park.
The white square tomb of Fatima Zohra is next-door....she was the doughtier of a 17th century religious bloke, and was reputed to be a woman by day and a white dove by night. children are named after her for blessings.
The mosque minaret is huge and towers over the centre of the city but like most mosques, non Muslims are banned from entering it or it's minaret. Its 70 m high and until the 1990 was covered by pink plaster but when it was renovated, all that came off and the original sandy coloured stone was exposed. It is also the minaret that subsequent minarets were based on, like the giant Hassan 2nd Mosque in Casablanca and La Giralda in Seville, Spain.
Another interesting fact is that there was a previous mosque on the same site but it wasn't properly lined up with Mecca, so it was knocked down and a 'new one' - which itself dates from the 12th century - was built in its place.
As we walked back to the square, the afternoon call to prayer started. None of the mosques in Morocco use recordings but they do use wired in megaphones. Having been in the country for two and a bit weeks now, it's one of those sounds that has blended into the background and we hardly notice it anymore, but we did today because the muezzin was having a bit of trouble. He started off ok then stopped, then there was a bit of huffing and puffing, paper shuffling then muttering under his breath as if he'd forgotten the words. He recovered quickly and started again but his voice cracked and he coughed. And if course, this was all broad cast over the tanoy to the city centre and the ears of locals and tourists alike. There were a few smiles and sniggers at ground level but then it all carried on as normal as it does five timed a day, everyday.
There was a minor kerfuffle in the alleyway outside our room when we got in this afternoon. Its open air but covered by branch matting and one of the local cats - presumably a fat one - whilst tiptoeing across it, fell through and on to the people below, leading to lots of shouting and catawauling.
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
Exploring Marrakesh 3
So what to do today then? We didn't eat on the square last night but in one of the alleys where the food was very slow and the staff ( all men) very disorganised. They blamed it on the women all of whom seemed to be working very hard while they sat around arguing.
We wandered through the square afterwards where mayhem was at its best. It really comes alive at night with snake charmers, acrobats, musicians and chancers who try and extort money from you. They are a real pain in the arse and I have realised that the best way to deal with the chancers is to tell then to bugger off before they get going.
We hadn't even left the riad this morning before Nads was presented with a rose, which another young bloke then begged her for.
That then sparked some inter shop banter which continued someway down the street.
One thing that I did notice in the street stall was a funny looking scotch egg type of thing which smelled quite nice. Turns out it was a ball of jasmin seeds. Trouble is you can't stop and look or ask a question without being besieged by people trying the hard sell, which is very tiresome.
But both of us are now quite good at spotting things and getting pictures without being noticed, which avoids hassle. I was particularly impressed with this array of household goods made from car tyres. I didn't get one shoved in my face at all!
Then there are other people who just carry on doing their work regardless of tourists and cameras.
Crossing over ,we walked into the old mellah ( Jewish quarter) it was immediately different in Both look and feel with the higher buildings and verandahs. Most jews moved out years ago but the streets are wider and open, hence the different feel.
The Sadiaan tombs are here, amazingly only discovered relatively recently (1917 by a French aerial survey) as one of the old sultans (Moulay Ismail the Victorius) bricked them up to keep his predecessors out of mind . But he didn't want to desecrate them for fear of bad luck, so he hid them behind a secret door only accessible from the Kasba mosque.
We reckon that this pink cat must have been up to the tanneries and fallen in as that surely can't be a natural colour!
The Badi Palace next door is also in ruins but was once paved with gold, silver and crystal and paid for by the Portuguese by way of ransom after the Battle of the Three Kings. It was ransacked by Moulay Ismail the Victorius and today is a vast open plan ruin which us partly renovated and hosts an arts festival in the summer as well as the odd Royal party.
Storks nest along the top if the palace wall and its not until you get up close that you realise just how huge they are. They also chatter to each other and sound like distant woodpeckers or jack hammers.
We had lunch in a terrace cafe over looking them sitting on their nests or taking it in turns to wheel off on the rising warm air and get food for the babies in the nests.
After that, we sat in the rose garden which was full of the usual kittens and snoozing people but no roses, and indulged in more people watching. It's quite amusing to sit still and let the world come to you for a change.
We wandered through the square afterwards where mayhem was at its best. It really comes alive at night with snake charmers, acrobats, musicians and chancers who try and extort money from you. They are a real pain in the arse and I have realised that the best way to deal with the chancers is to tell then to bugger off before they get going.
We hadn't even left the riad this morning before Nads was presented with a rose, which another young bloke then begged her for.
That then sparked some inter shop banter which continued someway down the street.
But both of us are now quite good at spotting things and getting pictures without being noticed, which avoids hassle. I was particularly impressed with this array of household goods made from car tyres. I didn't get one shoved in my face at all!
Then there are other people who just carry on doing their work regardless of tourists and cameras.
Crossing over ,we walked into the old mellah ( Jewish quarter) it was immediately different in Both look and feel with the higher buildings and verandahs. Most jews moved out years ago but the streets are wider and open, hence the different feel.
The Sadiaan tombs are here, amazingly only discovered relatively recently (1917 by a French aerial survey) as one of the old sultans (Moulay Ismail the Victorius) bricked them up to keep his predecessors out of mind . But he didn't want to desecrate them for fear of bad luck, so he hid them behind a secret door only accessible from the Kasba mosque.
We reckon that this pink cat must have been up to the tanneries and fallen in as that surely can't be a natural colour!
The Badi Palace next door is also in ruins but was once paved with gold, silver and crystal and paid for by the Portuguese by way of ransom after the Battle of the Three Kings. It was ransacked by Moulay Ismail the Victorius and today is a vast open plan ruin which us partly renovated and hosts an arts festival in the summer as well as the odd Royal party.
Storks nest along the top if the palace wall and its not until you get up close that you realise just how huge they are. They also chatter to each other and sound like distant woodpeckers or jack hammers.
We had lunch in a terrace cafe over looking them sitting on their nests or taking it in turns to wheel off on the rising warm air and get food for the babies in the nests.
After that, we sat in the rose garden which was full of the usual kittens and snoozing people but no roses, and indulged in more people watching. It's quite amusing to sit still and let the world come to you for a change.
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