Morocco: "You Can Land in the Motherland, Camelback Across the Desert Sand..." -Lupe Fiasco

Disclaimer: Sorry, I'm about 10 days behind on my blog right now due to a  mix of a crazy travel schedule and a serious lack of internet connection (every place that has had wifi, also apparently doesn't care if it works)

    Marrakech is a crazy place to a westerner.

            I arrived from Seville bright and early, 7:45am, and haggled my way into a taxi to take me to my hostel. He dropped me off in the main square of the Medina, which was nearly deserted as I walked towards my hostel. I had arrived in the height of Ramadan, meaning most Moroccans were busy sleeping, and would be avoiding the streets until they were allowed to break their fast at sunset. But still, the “Morocco “ started as soon as I left the main square. My backpack and directions in hand marked me out as an obvious backpacker new to the area, and as such I was soon the focus of a dozen men calling out for me to follow them to my hostel, they knew the way. Its typical in Morocco to lead a tourist into the confusing maze of the Medina and ask for money, or just straight up rob them so I just ignored them and followed my directions to the hostel. One particularly persistent man insisted on following me as I went along, offering to show me the way, and that “ahh I have spotted a clue to where your hostel may be, lets follow it my friend!” 

Once again I ignored him, especially when he pointed to a small alley about 4.5 feet tall and said, “this looks clean, let us check down here!”

I might be young and naive, but I’ve seen this movie, and it ends bad for the trusting white kid.

      My hostel turned out to be pretty nice, and I managed to score a spot to sleep on the roof, which is prime territory since the temperature is regularly above 100 degrees (f) during the day, and not much cooler at night. I planned to stay there for a few days and explore... then I met “Rasta Pasta Man” Mike (as the locals called him for being a white guy with dreadlocks).  He was doing a two day, three night tour of southern Morocco and the Sahara the next day and he convinced me to go with him. When an opportunity arises, take it.

        I went out with some American girls vacationing from their study abroad in Spain, and we got a tour by a local guy at the mosque for a good price. He took us to a Berber pharmacy, where they use natural herbs and spices to make medicines and skin creams. They specialize in Argon oil, which is apparently really a big deal since all the American girls got very animated when it was mentioned (they also bought heaps of it, probably funding the place for the next few months). We toured around and stopped at a lot of shops (most of the guides who offer tours work partly off of commission from the shops they bring tourists to), but eventually hunger got the best of me. I paid my part of the tour, bid my new friends farewell, went to grab a quick bite to eat in the main market square, and then followed suit of the locals to head back in for a nap and to wash my clothes (still dirty from San Fermin, I have never seen such dirty water, and I’m pretty sure it was about 20% alcohol from all the sangria, beer, and calixmoto that had soaked into the clothes).

The oppressive heat got the best of me and I napped away the afternoon, then joined Rasta Mike and some British girls for dinner and a beer (we searched for way too long for that beer, but it felt like quite an accomplishment when we found one. In a Muslim country, during Ramadan). After a few drinks I called it a night and went to pack for my Sahara trip, which promised to be quite an adventure...

Looking up through my hostel to the boiling sun above... and its only 9am! 

Me at the Koutoubia Mosque, which is the main mosque of Marrakech and the sister mosque to the one in Seville that was turned into the Giralda. I saw both in under 24 hours.
#winning 

The prayer area for women at the Koutoubia mosque, over 20,000 people come here to pray at night during Ramadan

A traditional Moroccan meal in the central square of the Marrakech Medina with new friends from my hostel, joining the throngs of locals as they break their Ramadan fasting with heaps of food.

East meets west... Coca-Cola in Arabic with a traditional Moroccan meal in the central square of the Marrakech Medina.