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Marrakesh Express
Head-spinning tour of the souk life
My first taste of Morocco was fabled Marrakesh. (Actually, we landed in fabled Casablanca, but we were scurried out of Morocco's largest city faster than an express train, leaving me to wonder is it dangerous or just boring?) A place like this takes a few days to digest, over-stimulated as it leaves you.
The new city was orderly with malls, terracotta low-rises, wide streets, and palm trees transplanted full-grown, relocated from who knows where. At first I thought, "Who would live here?" It felt as artificial as Southern California. But once inside the medina, or the old city, which is contained inside the original terracotta walls (a mandate to keep the look of the city means everyone builds in this style and color), the clutter, pungent smells, and chatter hit me like a tsunami. I kinda loved it, though I knew it would exhaust me.
Our driver, charged with maneuvering our minivan through the narrow streets originally designed for transport via donkeys, was very talented. We stopped near the kasbah mosque (all mosques have a minaret tower that makes them good landmarks), lined with street vendors selling djeballah (Moroccan caftans with hoods) and other cheap-looking knick-knacks. We were told to get out and walk to our hotel through an alley. Little kids were playing soccer, and old people were sitting out watching them, paying us no mind at all.
Suddenly, there were these enormous gilded brass doors, and that was La Sultana — three old riads turned into one spectacular hotel. Riads are traditional Moroccan houses, and unlike Western houses that look outward, they look inward. Riads are also very plain on the outside (it would be considered in bad taste to show off to your neighbors by decorating the outside of your home), but once you enter, they can be filled with riches. La Sultana was completely over the top. Each room was unique and had an animal theme, like the Elephant and Tiger suites. I was installed inside the Lion Suite, a duplex with an enormous oil painting of a lion and lioness hanging over my bed, which was also draped in sheer gold curtains like in an Ali Baba harem. Right outside my room was the pool, where chic-looking British people were sunbathing and having a lunch of haha (traditional Berber) salad or tajine (clay-pot stew) of chicken and prunes.
The new city was orderly with malls, terracotta low-rises, wide streets, and palm trees transplanted full-grown, relocated from who knows where. At first I thought, "Who would live here?" It felt as artificial as Southern California. But once inside the medina, or the old city, which is contained inside the original terracotta walls (a mandate to keep the look of the city means everyone builds in this style and color), the clutter, pungent smells, and chatter hit me like a tsunami. I kinda loved it, though I knew it would exhaust me.
Our driver, charged with maneuvering our minivan through the narrow streets originally designed for transport via donkeys, was very talented. We stopped near the kasbah mosque (all mosques have a minaret tower that makes them good landmarks), lined with street vendors selling djeballah (Moroccan caftans with hoods) and other cheap-looking knick-knacks. We were told to get out and walk to our hotel through an alley. Little kids were playing soccer, and old people were sitting out watching them, paying us no mind at all.
Suddenly, there were these enormous gilded brass doors, and that was La Sultana — three old riads turned into one spectacular hotel. Riads are traditional Moroccan houses, and unlike Western houses that look outward, they look inward. Riads are also very plain on the outside (it would be considered in bad taste to show off to your neighbors by decorating the outside of your home), but once you enter, they can be filled with riches. La Sultana was completely over the top. Each room was unique and had an animal theme, like the Elephant and Tiger suites. I was installed inside the Lion Suite, a duplex with an enormous oil painting of a lion and lioness hanging over my bed, which was also draped in sheer gold curtains like in an Ali Baba harem. Right outside my room was the pool, where chic-looking British people were sunbathing and having a lunch of haha (traditional Berber) salad or tajine (clay-pot stew) of chicken and prunes.
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