The views were fantastic and the weather was hot. Off the side of the hill were graves, with donkeys roaming nearby. Some were left to roam freely while others were tied to the ground, even though there was no shade nearby.
We walked about ten minutes away to the Borj Nord fort museum. The place was completely empty. It was nice and cool inside, and once we were done looking at the various swords and other military equipment, we walked upstairs to the rooftop for more views of the city.
Afterwards we started the descent down the hills to go back to the medina. On a nearby hillside we saw the first set of skins drying. Miles was repulsed. Maybe he will become a vegetarian some day.
We walked down to a sidewalk, and walked along that until we hit city walls. There was a small passageway that looked like a shortcut into the medina and people were coming in and out of it. When we entered we saw a massive hillside with hundreds of skins drying. One guy approached us and tried to "guide" us up to walk up along the walls. That was not happening. He showed us five feet to the walkway down to the medina and demanded a tip. I gave him under a dollar.
Once in the medina, we dodged in and out of the alleys, aiming for the far end of the medina from our hotel, so we could slowly wander our way back at our leisure. We entered some kind of trading area where people were carrying around dozens of skins and people were standing in circles. I would have loved to take a picture, but anytime you take a picture under these circumstances, you are harassed for money. I missed another amazing shot of multiple donkeys carrying goods that were walking down an incredibly narrow hallway due to this same reason.
Once we arrived at the area that I wanted to explore, I started looking at plates in a show. A guy approached me and desperately wanted us to follow us to his shop. I explained that I needed to go to the bathroom before I go to any shop, hoping to throw him off(Plus, I really did need to go before I did any shopping). Instead of being thrown off, he led me to a newly refurbished traditional looking bathroom. It was incredibly beautiful.
Since this had actually helped me out, I agreed to follow him to his shop. It was not as close as he claimed it would be, but eventually we found it. I found a plate that I really liked and we bargained with it. He claimed it was hand made. I have no idea if this is true. He tried to sell me an antique looking knife in a decorative sheath, but it didn't look right despite him claiming to have made that as well. Stephanie informed me that there was no way that it could have been handmade as he had said.
He asked if wanted to see sabra(cactus) silk fabric. He brought us to the store of what I assume was his friend, as we never gave him more money. A worker pulled off a string of a cactus that was hanging and spoke about how it was used on the giant loom that another worker was using, to create what we saw in the store. I read online that some people had tried to track the source of supposed sabra fiber and it went back to Spain in the form of rayon. I have no idea what to believe, but Stephanie and I bought something small.
After the medina, we went home for the night. The next day we stayed at our hotel until it was time to go to our mid afternoon flight. One of the Moroccan TSA equivalents pulled aside my camera bag to inspect. He came upon my rocket blower, a rocket shaped bulb used to blow air at a lens in order to clear it of dust and debris. I explained that it was used to clean, but I found it funny that I had to explain what a rocket looking device did.
The flight was under an hour, but by the time we got to the new riad, it was approaching 6:00. Our driver from the airport explained that most foreigners stayed or lived in the old town. The riad and room is more beautiful than our first place, but smaller. It is, however, in the very heart of the medina. We had scheduled to eat at the hotel and the food was fantastic. Afterwards, we went to the nearby Jema el-Fna open marketplace, as recommended by the custodian.
The driver was right. There were nearly as many foreigners as there were locals, which was disappointing. Marrakech is definitely the more touristy town of the two we are seeing. The market was lively and chaotic, with camps of people popped up all over the place, playing traditional music, a few sets of acrobats, food vendors, and people with monkeys on chains. One person walked over to Miles while we were ourselves walking, and placed a large monkey on his shoulder and asked me to take a picture. Knowing that he would then ask for money, and not wanting to support monkeys on chains, I declined. Miles did not find it pleasing that someone just placed a large monkey on his shoulder without asking. Another woman grabbed Stephanie's arm strongly and started painting her with henna. We refused to give her money for such behavior. When I tried to take a picture, someone immediately accosted us for money. We decided to go in a different direction, as this was not for us.
We walked very briefly in the market souk, but it was getting late, so we decided to leave for our hotel. Someone approached us as we were walking and asked if we wanted dinner. Miles answered by saying that we had already eaten. He said to Miles, "But you are so skinny!" We all burst out laughing, and so did he. Nice try! I do like how many of the people have a good sense of humor, rather than being super serious as well as cold approaching others.
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