Narrow Roads Abound
The Ricks continued their journey through Southern Morocco with a new lease on life. Well running bikes, a shining sun and food not from the ocean powered them towards their final destination of the medeterranean. After over a thousand kilometers of flat open empty desert a decision was made to ride the complete opposite, and their route took them on windy roads that really never got anywhere, through little villages full of people with nowhere to go.
Making it to Essouia, a smaller Moroccan city by the sea, we had the first taste of “real” Moroccan civilization. After stashing our bikes at a local hotel, we took a walk into the Medina, the ancient original part of the city. Houses and shops were so close together, and the roads were so narrow, that often it becomes impossible to discern what direction you are actually traveling until you suddenly make it out the side you *hopefully* were intending.
After just a little taste of life in the medina we packed our bags again and headed to Marrakech, where things were guaranteed to be much more crazy.
One of the Biggest Medinas in the WorldNo time was wasted on windy tiny rural roads this day, as the Ricks wanted maximum time to see the glory that was Marrakech before continuing on to the east.
It took us a fair bit of wandering to find some sights, as well as getting lost in the Medina at least once.
After we took this photo of the Royal Palace the Police made us delete it, but we managed to recover it just for you dear reader
Eventually after several hours wandering the city without much to show for it, it was decided to cut directly to the chase and head into the main market of Marrakech (but not before Kyle had to break away for some tajine)
Narrow passageways with low celings and goods covering the walls suddenly opened up into a massive, chaotic square with a overwelming amount of sound and colour.
Kit (missing the tajine dinner) wanted to head straight to the food stalls to try all the strange cuisine that was never going to be found in America.
Kyle, with a rather delicate pallete, was very glad he had already eaten tajine. There was no way that he was going to eat any of that shit.
Now that both Kit and Kyle’s bellies had been filled there was nothing else to do but wander around and see the sights, and try to avoid being sold a rug. It was actually quite difficult to get photos for you, dear Reader, because every shop owner would proceed to flip out every time they saw us taking photos. We therefore became very stealthy as to not let it be known that we were interested in cultural learnings to make benefit glorious nation of USA.
Probably the most interesting thing about the stalls was how they were laid out. In Marrakech every single type of good has its own street. There is an entire street with nothing but shops selling live chickens, a street for jewelry, a street for clothing etc. The severity of the competition baffled the mind. How did someone choose which shop to frequent when they are all right next to each other and all have the same prices?
In addition to the food stalls and shops, there were strange activities laid out in the square itself away from everything else. Most were relatively familiar, such as a series of musicians playing for loose change, but two truly sparked our interest.
All in all, the experience was the page out of 1001 Arabian Nights that one would expect, a combination of both touristic and local, and not one to forget. As we passed through the walls once again the quiet was almost a relief.
It was a tragedy to only devote one afternoon to such a great city but our schedule dictated that we were to get on the motorcycles and make tracks east over the Atlas.