June 28: My, oh my Marrakesh!
My oh my, Marrakesh! What an incredible experience riding into town through narrow gates hundreds of years old, spending hours exploring the central market until the lights came on at sunset, and then spontaneously heading off to a Moroccan bathhouse at 10:00 o’clock at night to have my body scrubbed from head to toe.
After making it over the Atlas Mountain pass yesterday I continued west into the city of Marrakesh, riding into the center of this bustling walled metropolis teeming with hundreds of cars at roundabouts, sometimes six cars thick, all vying for position to enter or exit to proceed to their destination.
Just as I thought the traffic couldn’t get trickier, the road abruptly narrowed to a single lane through an arched doorway. As the traffic was still heading in both directions and there were no stop signs or stoplights at this opening, cars randomly pushed through the space at will. I placed myself right behind a wide car heading through the gate and prayed he would part the sea of cars for me. After repeating this process two additional times as I passed through other fortified sections of the city, I breathed a sigh of relief when I turned off for my hotel.
After unloading my bags and taking a refreshing shower, I rode a taxi to the Jemaa el-Fnaa marketplace in old town, the main square of Marrakesh and host to what seemed like hundreds of vendors selling clothing, souvenirs, spices, and foods of all kinds.
Deciding to immerse myself in the experience, I handled the snakes, got henna on my leg, and wandered down many of the aisles before settling in for a wonderful meal up on the terrace of a restaurant named Argana. From my perch high up in the restaurant I was able to enjoy delicious chicken pastilla, kefta tajine, and Moroccan tea while watching all the pedestrians below me.
As the sun went down the lights in the market came on and the place became more alive with larger throngs of visitors walking and riding scooters past the beautifully lit stands highlighting colorful merchandise. Workers hawked their wares, pushed carts on the cobblestone street, and invited passersby to sample their goods.
After several delightful hours enjoying the market, I headed back to my hotel by taxi, thinking the night couldn’t have been more perfect. Just before reaching my lodging, I received a tip from a fellow biker who is also Moroccan, suggesting I might like to visit a bathhouse and get a hamam, a full body scrub with massage. I couldn’t think of a better way to end the day!
My taxi driver kindly rerouted me to the only bathhouse open so late at night, where I was warmly greeted, asked to change into a bathrobe, and led into a sauna-like room with heated marble beds and buckets of hot and cold water on the floor. The female attendant spent 45 minutes alternately rubbing lotion on me, scrubbing me with a variety of products, and rinsing me in buckets of mostly cool water.
After a wonderful night’s sleep, I headed out through the traffic congested city, trying my best to navigate through the sea of cars without getting run over. The ride west was largely uneventful, with mostly flat land used for agriculture making up the landscape. Beautiful orange and pink dirt and sand was highlighted by hundreds of orchards nourished by the almost cloudless sunny sky above.
As I settled into my lodging on the coast for the evening, I couldn’t help thinking how privileged I am to be on such an adventure.
