I feel like this post should be entitled I hate Marrakesh (and that is putting it mildly). Or, as I have heard from others, "The best part about Marrakesh is leaving." After saying goodbye to my friend, I prepared myself for the known chaos and ventured out of my riad. I wandered the medina and end up in the souk and am instantly hit up by aggressive salesmen selling mainly cheap junk available everywhere for far too much money. The teenage boys are following me around trying to give me bad directions and get me lost. I try to ignore them, but they are persistent. I duck in to small shops with business owners that seem nice and do not pester me. The streets are dirty and wider than in Fes, and filled with choking exhaust, as they allow motorbikes in the medina here and people are constantly zipping behind you (along with the usual hand drawn carts and donkey drawn carts). Sometimes the motorbike drivers are polite, but others will sometimes intentionally closely cut you off and laugh about it. I don't see much of anything I would really want to buy. The stuff mainly seems cheaply made and of lesser quality than the stuff I was seeing in Fes and elsewhere. I tire of the constant harassment from boys and men alike, making rude comments or sucking or kissing noises and occasionally attempting what they think is a subtle grope. And it appears any hint of a smile or eye contact is viewed as an invitation to be taken advantage of. But there are also terrible tourists about, wearing totally inappropriate clothing of bare shoulder tight half tank tops and shorty shorts stopping everywhere to take selfies for their perfect instagram shot. Or tour groups of 40 people being led about by someone waving a flag in everyone's face as the group meanders and blocks the way for all others in the narrow streets. I start heading back around 5pm as I know I will get lost and the sun sets around 7:30pm. I have been told by just about everyone that I should not be out alone after dark.
I grab a quick dinner at Jemma el-fnaa, the famous Marrakesh square with the snake charmers and people with monkeys and endless fruit juice stands and food stalls. If you take out your camera anywhere near the snakes or monkeys, someone runs up demanding for money. I have also heard some of the snakes have had their fangs removed or mouths sewn mostly shut and the snakes are often starved until they dance in response to the music. The monkeys are shoved in dirty little cages and pulled around roughly by a chain around their neck. No thanks. I got lost on my way back to the riad and am followed all the way back by a bunch of obnoxious teenager boys, leaving me in tears of frustration by the time I get back to my riad. A guy in the neighborhood tries to help me and a sweet, young girl who saw me earlier and knew where I was staying takes me back to the riad, allowing me to ditch the followers. The person in the riad is sympathetic, but speaks little English and can only say "Don't talk to boys." Luckily, I get an email from the American couples I met in Village Anguelz and they have us scheduled for a cooking lesson/demo with lunch the next day.I meet Carolyn, John, Glenn, and Alex (the people from Port Townsend who stayed the first night at my kasbah in Village Anguelz) at Cafe France in Jemma el Fnaa the next morning after a little walk around. Carolyn owns a riad about a 20 minute walk from the square. It is beautifully decorated, much stuff she says she bought at the junkyard. It seems most of the stuff I would want to buy is actually in the junkyards. Old wooden doors, large metal lamps, painted doors and furnishings, etc. But all too big to get home. We discuss the real estate in Marrakesh and there appears to be many foreigners buying old riads to rent out, displacing the many families there and making it unaffordable for locals to live in the city. Carolyn tells the fabulous story of how she came to buy the riad. She and her husband come for a few months every Spring and Fall and at least they try to help some of the local women and kids of the neighborhood. She used to offer a cooking demo, and has arranged for a trip for us to the local market to buy produce and then cook. We meet Fatima, who speaks no English. We plan to make a vegetable tangine, as Alex is a vegetarian. We head out shopping, as Fatima carefully picks out the produce from the many vendors and haggles the price. I can't imagine how exhausting it would be to haggle the price of ingredients any time I shopped. We head back to Carolyn's riad with shopping bags full of produce.
We watch Fatima work her magic in the kitchen, throwing in spices and cooking. Not much chance to help or learn other than by watching, as I know no Arabic and she no English. But I tried to smell the spices and watch how she prepared things. After a few hours, lunch is served. Beets, salad, and eggplant with pepper followed by the main course of vegetable tangine. 
All of it was very delicious and it was a nice way to spend the day in a city I don't love for 250 dirham. After lunch, they walk me back through the medina to the square. On the walk back, a boy picks up a sleeping cat and threw it at Glenn's back for no reason. Who even DOES that?!? The local shop owners and nearby men just shrug and say "boys." Yup, ill behaved, disrespectful boys that grow up to be ill behaved, disrespectful teenagers, as no one here seems to have any desire to correct poor behavior. Did I mention I hate it here? It is over 100 degrees today and I head back to my riad, thankful to be greeted with mint tea and some chocolate bread. I thought I only had two nights here, but realized I had three and extremely regret turning down the chance to attend a Berber wedding for this place (my friend also sent me a message that his family wondered why I didn't stay).
The next day, I just explored Marrakesh, trying to find things I liked about it. There is supposedly a huge garden associated with Yves St. Laurent, but I decide against the trip as I usually enjoy architecture and history over gardens. First, I visited the Saadian Tombs, which were rediscovered via aerial photography in 1917, after being abandoned for centuries. Nice architecture, but crowded and long lines to see the main tomb room (even being there when it opens). 
I wandered a bit more and decided to go to the El Badi Palace. It was interesting place to wander with partial mud brick ruins, a museum, gardens, and of course, cats to play with. It was also large enough to not feel too crowded and I spent a few hours exploring it all. It was especially fun to watch all the large storks,
who make fun noises with all their squawking and flying overhead. There is a nice upper terrace with a view over to a nearby mosque and the storks lined up in their large nests. Afterwards, I wandered around again. Was going to go to Bahia Palace, but even the line to buy the entrance ticket was long, and I didn't feel like waiting in the hot sun.I set off through neighborhoods in the medina, wandering little markets and looking around, trying to avoid being hassled. But of course, some young boy singled me out and started following me, trying to tell me directions to things. I politely told him that I was not heading any where in particular. He continued following me and was becoming more aggressive and rude. Finally, I turned around and told him I was not interested in his "help" and to please stop following me. He gets in my face, hurling insults and calling me "crazy." Oh little boy, you have NO idea how crazy I am about to go on your @ss... luckily, a bunch of locals pulled him away and sent me in a different direction, as one older man gestured he was sorry. I realize I have to get out of this city. I was going to head to the photography museum for lunch at the cafe, but happen to run in to Carolyn, John, Glenn, and Alex on their way to lunch at a tangine place they had recommended the previous day. I end up joining them for a delicious lamb tangine. It is now hovering around 103 degrees, and I decide to call it a day and just be done with Marrakesh. I head back through the souk and head back to the riad. As I wander, I witness a bunch of teenage boys on their motorbikes side swipe an old man trying to sell little glass bottles and trinkets, sending his stuff flying as they laughed. I stop to help him pick everything up (some of which was damaged). He offers me one of the little perfume bottles and refuses to take no for an answer. I finally reach my riad and have tea and relax in my air conditioned room for a few hours and then head out for dinner. There is a woman in the residential area of my riad that always smiles at me and makes basic sandwiches on a grill that smell great every time I walk past. I stop in for dinner and there is another woman finishing up her meal that helps me order, as the owner speaks no English. I sit on the plastic table outside and enjoy my kefta and egg sandwich. On my walk back to the riad, a few girls run past me, playing hide and seek with some neighborhood boys. One of the girls tries to hide behind me, and once I figure out what she is doing, I hide her in my long scarf, as we time our walking together. The boys run right past her and she smiles and giggles in delight. Later, I help her cheat from the rooftop terrace of my riad, as I can see and then point to where the boys are hiding.
The next day, I can't wait to leave. I catch a taxi to the CTM bus terminal and get on the bus to Essaouira. It is mainly tourist and the bus takes 3.5 hours with one stop in a kitschy bus stop with overpriced food and drink and souvenirs. The stops by the CTM company buses are quite different, depending on the bus route (hanging goat carcasses at one stop, made-in-China plastic Morocco keychains at another). I watch for the famous goats that climb trees in such of argan nuts, but I hear they are really only out earlier in the day (unless chained to the trees as a tourist thing). On arrival to Essaouira, I immediately love the city. I walk to my hotel without getting lost, not because somewhere in Morocco finally decided to use street signs, but because I can navigate using the sea. I check in to my swanky hotel (only other hotel since Casablanca, which I booked since I didn't know if I wanted to lay out in a bathing suit at the pool).
I head out for a walk along the beach to the walled part of the city and medina and everyone is nice again, with smiles and bon jours without wanting anything in return. The sea breeze washes all the Marrakesh negative energy off me and I immediately feel relaxed. There is street murals and little artistic things all around. I am getting hungry, so end up at a fish stall (#11) by the port for a little snack. I pick out six sea urchin for 30 dirham. 
I chat with one of the guys that works there who grew up in Essouira as I watch people fishing along the jetty wall. He takes me on walk through the port and shows me all the seafood being sold, anything from shark to eel to sardines. We stop and chat with people and then head back. He goes back to work and I go off wandering again, exploring the medina. 
The medina is small and easily manageable, but surrounded by 18th century seafront ramparts that are fun to walk around. There seem to be two main streets full of stuff you see all over Morocco (lamps, shoes, rugs, pottery, argan oil, etc.). But there are all kinds of little side streets full of good stuff like little book stores, artists painting, wood carvers, antique stores, and independent art galleries. 
Store owners aren't aggressive, but seem to just be proud of what they are selling and want you to look, whether you buy or not. It is nice that you can browse without being hassled. I choose a restaurant to eat dinner because an eager cat brought me in, purring and jumping up on my leg. The cat was right, the food was delicious! I had squid stuffed with ground meat in tomato sauce with couscous. The cat comes and tries to sit with me, but the owner shoos him away, saying he will try to get on the table. When I ask if it is his cat, he says "no, I fed the cat 7 years ago and he never left." Ha! He tries to seem annoyed by it, by I see him giving him pets and food here and there.... totally his cat. I walk back to the hotel in the dark and it feels nice and safe.
I wake up early the next morning and walk around the medina again. I check out the food and produce market. There is also an indoor fish market, for those not shopping at the port. Again, people are friendly and nice, and the town is so small, I start running in to people I saw the day before. A cat at a store jumps on my lap and goes to sleep. So I sit and chat with the owner a while, because the cat just looks so comfy and content. I get a quick lesson on spices from another shop owner before he sends me to a nearby spot for cheap coffee and breakfast (not included at hotel). I had heard about a cheese place called La Fromagerie about 20 minutes out of town, in the countryside with a farm that makes their own cheese and has a price fixe lunch. I see a taxi driver, who wants 150 dirham to take me there. I know I can get it cheaper. Walk to the other side of the medina and get a taxi for 50 dirham. 
There is nothing else out there. I save the taxi the trouble of driving down the rough dirt road and volunteer to just get out and walk. I arrive and the place is empty but beautiful! The owner comes out and chats with me for a few minutes before I settle in for a delicious lunch. I decide to splurge, as I am down to just a few more Moroccan meals, and get the lamb. There are cheese and olives to start and then some sort of fried cheesy bread with something that is like toasted alfalfa sprouts. Then comes a small eggplant dish with tomato sauce and cheese, followed by a huge salad of butter lettuce with apples, nectarines, pomegranate and goat cheese in rosemary vinaigrette. And then the main course of the most tender, falling apart lamb with green beans and zucchini spiced with salt and cumin.
And then the finale, a cheese plate full of several kinds of goat, cow, and/or camel cheese. Sufficiently stuffed, I contemplate how to get back to the city. They could have called me a taxi, but it would be anywhere from another 50-100 dirham. So I walked back to the main road, and then headed towards the busier traffic circle I had seen on my way there. Figured I could use the walk and I might luck out and see some goats in trees. Sadly, all I saw along the walk were a few cars and a VERY large bull on the unfenced side of the road that stared me down. As luck would have it, as soon as I made it to the traffic circle, a shared taxi passed and I flagged them down. Paid 10 dirham back to the gare routiere and then walked back to the medina. The enjoyable half day experience was around $35, and totally worth it. Wandering around again in the walled medina, I stumbled across Cooperatives Artisanal near the south bastion. I walked in because it was a nice, quiet courtyard. There were a few workers in there and they showed me an old tree (over 250 years old I think is what they were trying to tell me?). Towards the back, a guy was hand painting the wooden doors that I love. Impractical for me as the colors wouldn't match my house and a door would be almost impossible to get home. But after talking to the guys, they told me to wait and went and grabbed a piece to show me. It was what looked to be a wooden shutter, painted in more muted browns, burgundies, and golds. It was long, but I thought it just might fit in my big backpack. He asked for 300 dirhams, which I thought it was well worth, but I didn't have the cash on me after my afternoon cheese adventure. He dropped it to 250, to which I kept trying to explain I really was out of cash (I rarely carry a lot of cash on me). He asked how much I had on me and I opened my little fox purse. All I had left on me was 120 dirham and some coins. He said he really wanted me to have it and sold it to me for 130 dirhams. 
I LOVE it and it just BARELY fit in my backpack if I unzipped the bottom divider. I went back to see my cozy cat from earlier that day and had some tea. The shop owner invited me to dinner, but I was still full from lunch. I stopped by fish stand, had a coke and watched the sunset. The guys at fish stall #11 seem to know all the nearby cats, feeding them and knowing what each ones favorite seafood snack is (one loves mussels, another sardines, etc.). It gets windy and kind of cold after the sun sets, and i head back to the hotel.In an update to my previous travel note from Fes, I received an email from the dar I stayed with, apologizing profusely for the overly aggressive night employee. They stated the employee had only been there two months and they showed the owner my review and the employee has now been fired. She also mentioned that as a female, she would also would not have appreciated it and did not like that it happened to me, apologizing yet again. I found the email to be sincere and heartfelt, and would not hesitate to recommend Dar Al Kadima for anyone heading to Fes.
Sadly, it is my last full day in Essaouira. I had heard about the ruins, both of an old lighthouse/watchtower and an old palace, about 3 km toward Diabat down the beach which is visible at low tide. It is argued that this is the namsake to Jimi Hendrix's "Castles Made of Sand". I look at the tide table and see that it will still be low tide around 8am or so. I set out early and enjoy the nice walk along the beach, as a few people exercise or walk their dogs. At the south end of Tagharte beach, I find the ruins. Clamber around on them for a bit and then set off to try to find the other ruins of a palace called the Dar Sultan or the White House.
I am not exactly sure where it is, so head up over some sand dunes and wander around. There are a few packs of dogs, which I avoid (and maybe bark back at a few of them, making them run off). I start to see ATV tracks and figure they have been to the ruins, so follow the tracks and play with scarab beetles along the way. Sure enough, I find the old palace.
It is mostly covered by sand with some areas still peeking out to run around on or on top of. I also take a quick peek around the nearby town of Diabat, but it is still early and most everything is still closed (including the Jimi Hendrix cafe). I head back, passing the people who rent camels setting up on the beach and windsurfers ant ATV drivers heading out. I had plans to meet up with Mourad from the fish stall for coffee before he starts work, but I am a bit late. He had offered to show another tourist around and take them to buy spices. I join them and we go to a spice store. They sell both spices and herbal medicines, and even have a little glass jar with leeches. The spice guy makes me his own blend of Berber coffee (coffee with cinnamon, nutmeg, and other spices blended in). They are taking a while longer, so I go off wandering on my own. I walk around the old Jewish quarter and down the little maze of streets, doing a little more shopping. I recognize several people at this point, and find myself stopping to talk to everyone I have met over the last few days. I go back to one of my favorite little stores full of hand picked art, antiques, and art painted by one of the owners. I purchase a little painting of the hand of Fatima for the woman cat sitting for me at home. I wander back to the fish stall and we make dinner plans with Mourad and one of his co-workers for fish tangine. Mourad and I shop for supplies, getting a fresh fish from the sellers at the port and then heading to the produce market for vegetables and supplies. Mourad knows people at a restaurant and they take the supplies to cook our dinner. Later that evening after the fish stall closes for the night, I meet up with them and head to the restaurant. They took the ingredients and baked them in to a fabulous dinner, which we all share in the closed bar area.My last morning, I set out for my last wander around Essouira and say my goodbyes. I head back on the CTM bus to Marrakesh. And once I arrive in Marrakesh, the scams start right back up again. The taxi drivers all work together at the CTM bus erminal, and they want 200 dirham to take me back to my riad, the exact distance that cost me 20 or 30 dirham a few days ago. They yell at each other not to take me when I refuse. Luckily, I get several others I met on the bus who speak French to negotiate for all of us, and my portion of the shared ride comes out to around the 30 dirham it should be. I drop my stuff back at my riad and pick out a restaurant for my last real meal in Morocco. I choose a nearby restaurant called La Table de la Kasbah with a rooftop deck overlooking a mosque. There is bread with delicious tapenades made with a variety of olives to start (spicy, black with rosemary, green with garlic and lemon). I first order the seafood tangine with coconut milk, which they say has mussels, calamari, shrimp, and other seafood, thinking I can just eat around the mussels (I am allergic to them). Sadly, it comes out and it is almost all mussels. The server sees me picking at it and realizes the issue (I had asked about the mussels before ordering). He is super accommodating and lets me pick something else out instead and I chose the lamb with artichoke tangine. The food was spectacular, as was the service. Head back to finish packing and take an early flight back home in the morning, with stops in Amsterdam and Salt Lake City.
And now, my Moroccoan adventures are over and I am back home. Started my new job as a jail nurse two days after I returned, so this last email is late getting out. I did manage to go through my thousands of pictures and Trip Photos are up online.
Love,
Betsy
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