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My Marrakesh


What better place to go for some pure self- indulgence than the uber-hip Moroccan city, says Sue Wilsher


fl ight away. Marrakesh is made up of the old town or Medina, circled by the reddish-pink city wall, and nearby Gueliz, the new town, both within a 45-minute drive of the foothills of the Atlas mountains.


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I headed there in July. Was it hot? Hot enough to melt the glue binding my copy of Hideous Kinky so all the pages fell out… We stayed in a riad, a traditional Moroccan guesthouse, in the Medina, which is made up of a maze of alleyways too narrow for cars, where pedestrians dodge the mopeds and donkeys laden with rubble. Children play around draped women sitting on doorsteps, men push heavy trolleys and toil in workshops, and dusty kittens curl up in shop doorways. The plain salmon pink façades of the low-rise cube-shaped buildings have intriguing carved wooden doors sized according to the grandeur of the interior. We arrived at Riad Samarkand, owned and renovated by a Parisian couturier, entered a tranquil courtyard with banana trees and plunge pool and sighed with relief – it was beautiful. The Moroccans do interior design


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orth African Morocco’s second largest city is just over a three-hour


spectacularly well, carved plaster and wooden fretwork, mother of pearl inlays, enchanting lanterns, panelled ceilings and impossibly long draped curtains. We took two of the fi ve suites and had the place to ourselves for the fi rst two days, enjoying achingly wonderful breakfasts of fruit, cake and coffee on the roof terrace.


Expect to haggle starting prices down a third


Cyril, the manager was laid-back and helpful, walking us out to restaurants to save us the hassle of getting lost in the labyrinth. He arranged a guide to show us around. One of us mentioned shopping so the majority of the tour was spent in the souks, the largest market in Morocco, made up of over 1,400 tiny shops divided into specialised areas such as lanterns, spices, copper, clothing, and food, with over 120 shops selling just leather slippers. It was humbling to see


the men and boys working in the searing heat, punching tiny holes into metal and turning wood by hand in cramped workshops. The traders are seasoned salesmen, calling and beckoning – ‘it’s free, it’s free, yes, looking is free’. Expect to be pounced upon for merely glancing. At the sight of us they called out ‘fi sh and chips’ and ‘have a shufty at this’, dashing our hopes of appearing anything other than pale Brits. Our guide Haffi d advised us to expect to haggle starting prices down a third, maybe even a quarter and of course we practised walking away to be called back to seal a deal. We walked through the Place Djemaa el Fna, the busiest square in Africa which by night becomes a circus of snake charmers, storytellers, water sellers, teeth pullers and musicians. It’s not to everyone’s taste but the square is visited as much by Moroccans as tourists, families congregating for dinner at one of the many food stalls, barbecue smoke billowing out over the milling crowds. It’s a good option for an inexpensive meal and some interesting entertainment – expect to pay to take photos. We had cous cous as it was Friday, the day most Moroccans eat this national dish. This is the site of the recently bombed Cafe Argana, which our professional


guide dismissed as a ‘mistake’. At the other end of the eatery scale, Marrakesh has many a good quality, über- cool restaurant to offer. The theme, a canopy of rooftop terraces overlooking a low-rise skyline punctuated by mosque minarets, the Atlas mountains in the distance. Add to this contemporary Moroccan decor, ambient jazz, terracotta walls and whispering bamboo. We lunched at Terrasse des Épices, with humidifying water mists spraying into each booth. Delicious marinated chicken and sautéed veg and rustic bread dipped into olive tapenade. Dinner at La Foundouk, after freshening our hands with orange fl ower water we ate a


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