W48 of Y3

Marrakech, Morocco

This will be one of those rare blog posts that is written by me (Jeremy) instead of Amy. She’s got all of the pictures uploaded now… and just doesn’t have enough creative juices to finish the job. So she asked me if I wanted to step up to the plate and get it done. I told her I would, but that I wouldn’t be just writing a few captions for the pictures. I would rather just write and then allow the reader to refer to the pictures after they’ve read. I know many of you probably prefer Amy’s style… and that seeing a huge block of text will make you just want to fast forward to the pictures without reading. J That’s ok. It’s more for me than you anyway!

Every year in January since we arrived to Europe back in 2009 I’ve forced Amy to take an anniversary trip sans kids. Our first year we went to Paris, then the following year we went to Rome. Both trips were amazing and we had a great time. But Amy stresses for about three weeks leading up to each trip about leaving the kids at home with the au pair. During those three weeks her emotions take a front row seat on the loop de loop roller coaster that doesn’t end until we’re safely at our destination. So, when I announced this year that we would be going to Marrakech, Morocco, the roller coaster leading up to the trip was especially fun! Combine that with the unfortunate fact that we were in transition between au pairs (as we so often are) and it made for an interesting time! But the BLUF (bottom line up front… or maybe not so up front) as they like to say in the military, is that we made it and the trip was a success.

We flew out on Tuesday morning from Frankfurt Hahn airport, which is about an hour and 45 minutes from our house. Frankfurt Hahn is our local airport with Ryanair, a discount airline. Our flight was at oh dark thirty on Tuesday morning so we decided to stay the night at a hotel near the airport so we wouldn’t have to wake up at 3:00 in the morning to make it. Tuesday morning we woke up and packed up our suitcases which met the Ryanair guidelines of both measurement and weight. If you deviate from the rules they charge like 40 Euro.

The flight went smoothly. Amy and I were able to sit next to each other and talk for three hours straight without interruption! A miracle in and of itself. As we flew south the sun rose over the Mediterranean. .. beautiful. It was fun to look out the window and see us leaving Europe and entering Africa. As we approached Marrakech we were struck by the color of the buildings and the city in general. Everything had a reddish orange tint. There were expansive masses of apartment blocks and buildings that all looked the same, and they were all covered with white satellites which gave a bit of a polka dot affect on the entire mass of buildings. Imagine a red and orange blanket to the horizon covered in white polka dots and palm trees.

Before arriving to Marrakech, our closest association or experience with Muslim cultures / cities was Alhambra (formerly Muslim) and Istanbul (currently Muslim… formerly Christian). During our time in those two places we got just a taste of the vibrant and distinct design of the buildings, art, interiors, etc. As we walked into the airport, those same patterns and designs were evident right away. We made our way to the line where they checked our passport. Police were sitting in little glass cubicles, checking each traveler’s passport, and the lines were extremely long due to a lack of personnel. I had made arrangements with the hotel for transportation to and from the airport and I was worried that maybe we would be late in meeting our contact. But we finally made it through and found our guy holding a sign that read Riad Litibi Bito. We told our guy we needed to change our money and get cash. Morocco uses a currency called the Dirham abbreviated as MAD. We figured that the exchange rate was about 8.29 MAD for 1 USD. We also discovered that it was about 10 MAD to one Euro. Dividing by 10 was a lot easier than 8.29, so we converted to Euro in our heads constantly to estimate cost. So for example if a cab ride was 100 MAD, that’s about 10 Euro… or around 12 to 13 USD. J

Our contact escorted us outside and handed us off to another guy who took us to his beat up Hyundai Van. We got in and noticed that there were little place rugs under each chair. Nice touch! This guy didn’t talk to us at all and just started driving. He was chatting away on his mobile the whole time. We got our first taste of what the traffic was going to be like during our time there. I of course immediately associated it with my time in South America. No rules, no stopping at red lights, constantly honking at everything and nothing. Mopeds, scooters, bikes, donkeys, horses, hand-carts, weaving in and out of traffic the whole time. When we entered our first huge round about Amy just closed her eyes. I was just laughing and remembering. The roads got smaller and smaller until it looked like we were in an alley were cars couldn’t and shouldn’t fit. Then he stopped abruptly without saying anything and got out. Amy and I look at each other with a quizzical look as if to say, so I guess he wants us to get out. As we were getting out we noticed that he was already loading our bags into a wheel barrow being held by another guy. As we went to the back of the van, the man with the wheel barrow took off with our bags, and a third guy walked up to us and introduced himself in broken English and gestured for us to follow him. At that point the guy in the van was already pulling away and we were left standing with this new guy who was already walking away. So we followed as quickly as we could. As we were walking we noticed that our bags were already almost out of our view, winding it’s way through the alleys and shops ahead of us.

This first walk in Marrakech was a stimulus overload. It had just rained before we landed and it had been the first rain in two months. The ground was cobble stone and mud and we were slipping all over the place as we tried to keep up. After the second turn in the maze of alleys and shops I was completely lost. I looked at Amy and she seemed to be in a panic as she turned to me and said, “hurry up we have to keep up with our bags!”. While we were walking I was trying to take it all in. A blur of shops, people, animals, smells, foods, kids, buildings, ruins, signs, lights, filth, art, and beauty was blazing by. Then all of a sudden our guide stopped, we almost ran into him. He pointed to a sign and said, “remember this sign… very important landmark so not get lost”. Amy quickly took a picture of the sign and then we were off again. By that time of course or bags were completely out of sight. We walked further and turned for the 100^th time into a very small and dark alley with arch that required us to duck our heads. As we walked I noticed that there were wild cats all over the place. Some of them seemed to eating a disemboweled chicken. We continued to walk into what seemed to be an abandoned mine shaft, with wooden bolts of wood holding up either side for support. There were shafts of light making their way down to the bottom from the openings created by the three and four story buildings under which we were winding. Then we approached a door with a small sign above it that read “RIAD LIBITI BITO”. Our guide turned to us, smiled, and said, “Welcome!” He then opened the door and walked into a paradise. There were palm trees, ornate chairs, and furniture surrounding a small serene pool with a water fountain. We were standing in an atrium that rose three stories. Windows looked down from all four sides. We were invited to sit down and were promptly served Moroccan tea and cookies while Brazilian bossa nova played in the background.

Our hostess then joined us and proceeded to brief us over the next 45 minutes about how to navigate around Marrakech on our own. She drew a map of how to get from the hotel out onto the main street (a challenge), how to get from there to the main plaza, what to tell a cab driver if we want to take a cab to the hotel, what to be careful of, how not to get ripped off, etc. She also specifically warned us that everyone will try to guide us to where they think we want to go. She said that locals love to carry tourists off on long trips and then ask for money when they finally arrive at their destination. They even resort to telling you that the street you are walking on is going to close further down and that they can take you a better way, and then lead you off in the wrong direction. She said to only ask directions from other tourists or vendors who are behind a desk or at their shop and can’t leave. She taught us how to negotiate (haggle) with the vendors, and what to look for. She warned us that some vendors will be extremely aggressive and that we shouldn’t say that we’re American, but some other nationality. We ended up telling everyone that we were German, and no one questioned us. Amy had read on the plane that the vendors could be pretty aggressive and that sometimes it helped to say “la” which means No in Arabic.

It was about noon when we finished with our briefing. Our hostess told us that our room wasn’t ready yet. We found that our luggage was safely stored there and so we decided to venture out on own. Armed with our briefing and maps, we headed out the door and into the mineshaft alley. We managed to find our way out to the main road after taking two wrong turns and then doubling back. When we reached the slightly larger alley, there was tons of traffic and people. There were shops all over the place with guys standing in front of them. They all saw us standing there with a touristy expression on our faces. They were like vultures descending upon a carcass ripe with rot. Immediately someone offered to take us to the square. We just started shaking our heads and saying no. Then a man started walking by on a bike loaded with what looked like cow feet which had been freshly chopped. Amy took out her camera and snapped a picture. Two seconds after she took the picture a man approached her, invaded her personal space and started saying something we didn’t understand. He had a wild look in his eye that wasn’t quite right, and I could see that he had some kind of substance all over his thick black beard… maybe food. He started to get in Amy’s face and yell and Amy backed away and started to say, “LA!”. The guy did not like that Amy was saying la. He grabbed her hand which was holding the camera with both of his hands, pulled Amy towards him and started screaming in her face, “LA? LA? LA? LAAAA???” Amy had a death grip on the camera, and the guy had a death grip around her hands. At this point, to me it felt like a dream in slow motion. I tried to shove myself between them, wedging my shoulder onto Amy and pushing the guy by the chest back away from her. I thought I was going to have to start choking him or maybe head butt him in the face or something. Right at that moment four guys attacked him from behind and started pulling him back. But he wouldn’t let go of Amy’s hands. So they started prying his fingers back until he had to let go. Once Amy was free, she backed up and they pulled the guy back as he was screaming LA over and over again. Then these guys all apologized and said that the guy was the local crazy and that they were sorry, and that we should come to their shop and buy something.

At that point were totally shell shocked and just wanted to get out of there so we started walking quickly in the first direction we saw. As we were trying to get the heck out of there we heard guys on the side of the alley yelling at us that we were going the wrong way and that it was closed ahead. Remember our briefing we chose to ignore this and kept on walking. Soon though we noticed that we were getting into a pretty sketchy area. There were no tourists no shops, and everyone was staring at us like we were in the wrong place. Then the street started to end. We stopped and decided to look at a map. But we noticed that any time spent stopping to look at a map was too dangerous. So we decided to double back. As we went back we of course had to pass everyone that just saw us walking the opposite direction and it was obvious that we were lost. ARG! When we got back to the site of the attack we tried to continue on in the opposite direction we came and two kids (visible in the picture behind the bike with cow feet) came up to us and told us we were going the wrong way. At this point we were so disoriented and our confidence was totally shot. I just told him to point us to the square and he then offered to take us. HA! Just like our hostess said. What a mess. We convinced him not to take us and started walking.

We just started wandering and looking for a place to eat. We were in the middle of what are called the Souks. A souk is an old shop. They are tiny little shops that sell everything from spices to cloth, and food to paintings. We wandered and wandered until finally we just started following a sign that we thought was a restaurant. The sign took us into an alley and then up three flights of stairs until we arrived on the roof top of a building. It was a terrace with a beautiful restaurant in a paradise type setting. Much like our hotel, this place was an oasis hidden among the craziness surrounding it below in the streets. We had a wonderful lunch and tried to decompress from the craziness. We also built up our confidence and vowed to get some serious shopping done… right after we went back to our hotel, unpacked in our room and got our bearings!

We were able to make it back to our hotel, which was a victory and triumph. Our room was like something out of the movies. I told Amy that it reminded me of the harem rooms in the palace at Alhambra near Granada, and her wry reply was, “you wish”. Ha. We unpacked, got settled in and planned our next venture outside the walls of the Riad. This time we were prepared to walk with conviction in the same direction. But when we got outside we were immediately sidetracked by an aggressive vendor. Actually, Amy was, and I was roped into staying. But I’m glad we did. The guy was a woodworker, and he operated a manual lathe using his hands and feet (toes) to shape the wood. Pretty crazy process. He had all kinds of wooden boxes and ornaments. He did a demonstration, and gave Amy a gift of what he made, and then I knew we had to buy something. Let the haggling begin! I think we did ok. Amy is ready to give in at the first price, but using my haggling skills from all the other third would countries I’ve lived in, I was confident I got a good price. I have to admit though that Amy throws me off my game! J But we got a great Mahogany box and then we were off to our next stop. Over the course of the afternoon we bought a lot of great stuff. We were limited by what we could fit in our little suit cases which sucked, as we wanted to buy a lot more, but it worked out and we were able to get a lot of great stuff.

Our next destination was the Jamaa El Fna, or the main square of Marrakech. Using the map given to us by the hotel hostess, we were able to find our way, without help from the locals. We had to pat ourselves on the back for the great success. When we arrived to the square, the vultures went right work. A woman approached Amy with a book of small pictures and started grab Amy’s hand. Amy pulled back and put her hand in her pocket as we tried to move away. The lady was trying to grab Amy’s hand again and we escaped to a shoe shining stall nearby. I decided to get my shoes shined. I haggled for the price before I agreed and I could tell the guy didn’t want to set a price first. But I settled on 20MAD. He did a great job, and I could tell that his legs were paralyzed. Speaking in French and broken English he told me that he can’t get good work there because of his condition and that he’s been shining shoes his whole life. I figured out that the guy had polio in both of his legs. So sad. But he did a damn good job on my shoes so I gave him 50MAD.

Weeks before we arrived, I had made reservations for our first night in Marrakech at a restaurant called MK Maison. It got high rating on Trip Advisor, so I booked a table. The reservation was at 7:30, and we had to get back to the hotel to get ready, and give ourselves enough time to find the place in the maze by foot. So we decided to catch a horse and buggy taxi. In the main square there is always a line of horse carriages waiting for tourists and locals alike to use their services. A slight hesitation at the beginning of the line of horses gave the men their cue and they immediately went to work convincing us that we should take a ride. We didn’t want to ride around forever so we began haggling for just a half hour. Eventually we agreed on a price and we boarded our buggy. Imagine riding in a buggy pulled by two emaciated horses by a guy that barely speaks English (but still is trying to explain everything around in Berber, Arabic, and French) as it pulls into the traffic of the main thoroughfare of an extremely busy city. We had to assume that the horses had the right of way because the driver never stopped or slowed down and buses, cars, trucks, scooters, bikes, and people all yielded to us… albeit at the last second. Amy almost died of a heart attack. It was not the leisurely romantic trot she thought it was going to be. Nevertheless, we got to see more of the city including the old city walls which are still in tact and measure more than 20 kilometers in circumference. He showed us around the new town where all of the posh hotels were, and then suddenly stopped at a water trough that was on the side of the road and allowed the horses to drink. We then noticed that there were drinking troughs all over the city on the side of the road. As promised, he dropped us off at our desired location (as close as a horse and buggy can get to our hotel) after 30 minutes and I paid him the 120MAD we agreed upon.

Amy and I congratulated ourselves again after finding our way successfully to the hotel. We felt like real experts then as we zig zagged through the alley ways all the way to our hotel. All the while saying no thank you to the vendors yelling out, “Bon jour!, Bon nuit!, Bon soir!, Hello Mr!, Just looking!, Maybe tomorrow!, Good Price!, etc.” Amy even had the cojones to yell out “La” a few times and wasn’t even attacked! We got ready for our dinner appointment and got another lecture from our hostess on how to get there by foot.

When we set out it was dark. But we were more confident this time around and only made a couple of wrong turns before we were on the right track. But then we started to doubt ourselves after we didn’t arrive at the restaurant when we thought we should. It was one of those times when you’re not sure if you should just keep walking in the same direction looking, or whether you should double back. The moment we double back of course the locals would be on us like white on rice trying to direct us. We decided to stop to look at the map, and as soon as we did a kid came up to us and tried to talk some English. Amy and I looked at each other and thought… oh well. So we allowed the kid to guide us. He seemed friendly enough, and lo and behold he took us straight to the door of our restaurant. So I paid the kid (well worth it) knowing we never would have found it on our own.

Dinner was amazing. The restaurant is part of a Riad (like the one we were staying in) located in a different part of the Medina (old part of town inside the city walls where everything is a maze). Riad is simply a word to describe an old style mansion. Apparently about 100 years ago there were many wealthy merchants, etc. that lived in the Medina and they each had their own palace like mansion. But according to Muslim customs, there was no show of richness on the exterior. Most were well hidden, but when you walked inside it was a rich paradise. Most all Riads have now been converted to hotels and restaurants.

We were welcomed in and shown into a room dripping with a fusion style of decoration. Elements of Muslim, 70s French, harem, smoking room, were all mixed together to create a very unique setting. Amy and I were the only ones in this room aside from the realistic and life size sculpture of Joe Camel’s head on the wall complete with a camel cigarette hanging out of his mouth. They lit a fire for us and brought us snacks and tea. We ordered our meal there (a six course fusion French and Moroccan meal) and then waited to be invited to our table. The interior also had a pool with a large water fall / fire pit surrounded by an atrium full of palm trees and windows from the hotel rooms. We ate until we couldn’t eat any more. They brought out three different desserts and one said happy birthday on it because we told them it was our anniversary, and I think the interpreted that to mean birthday because of their French background, so one dessert said happy birthday on it! I wish I could eat all night but I was about to be sick. So we paid the bill and headed home… successfully finding our room and passing out!

We both woke up at 5:50am to the morning prayers. Five times a day over the loud speakers posted at every corner the Muslim prayers are recited. It was an eerie and interesting feeling to hear the prayers that early in the morning when it was still dark. I had a hard time falling back to sleep after that because it seemed that the morning prayers also woke up all of the roosters and they started to go nuts after that crowing all over the place. It reminded me of living in Colombia where the roosters would always start up around the same time. I never had to set an alarm.

Our objective for our second day was to make our way to the Mamounia hotel and spa where we had reservations for a day of relaxation. But first it was time for our authentic breakfast. Again it seemed that we were the only ones in the hotel. During our whole stay there we saw maybe one other couple. She mentioned that it was low season… which was confusing to us because it was 65 to 70 degrees and sunny the whole time we were there. The hostess said that we could eat up on the terrace if we wanted. So we made the climb up to the roof where they had tables, palm trees, umbrellas, lunge chairs, etc. We felt like the whole place was set up just for us. They brought our breakfast of yogurt, milk, juice, croissants, breads, cheese, butter, jellies, etc. up to us and it was all delicious. I started wandering around up on the terrace and noticed that there was a turtle huddled up in the corner. Don’t see that every day. There were also kittens running around everywhere. I looked over the edge of our oasis and saw that there were squalid houses surrounding us. There were clothes hanging out everywhere drying, cats running around rummaging through garbage, satellites mounted on everything possible, etc.

We headed out after deciding to walk to La Mamounia hotel. Our hostess told us not to take a cab and to instead make the 20 minute walk because if we told a cab driver that we were going there that their fair would be through roof because it’s the nicest hotel in the whole city. I guess none of the cab drivers use meters. All fairs have to be arranged before you get in the car… or at least they should be. So we walked and made it straight there. This hotel was much different than ours. It was all about being ostentatious and showing it’s richness. We were allowed in through the main gate and then walked through a series of gardens before we reached the main entrance. There at the entrance were posted two gaurds / doormen who opened the doors for us. We went in and showed the woman at the front desk our reservations. She showed us to another man and he walked us through the lush hotel to the spa. There we were greeted by two girls and we set up our accounts. It was then that we realized that we had forgotten our swimsuits. We asked if they had any for sale, and they said of course. They brought out some small shorts for me and a tiny bikini for Amy. They said that the suits could be ours for the small fee of 400 Euro ($550). We decided then and there that we would go back to our hotel. I’ve worked in a hotel before so I kind of knew how things worked. I went up to the concierge and asked if they had a driver that could take us to our hotel and back, and he immediately responded, “but of course sir… right this way”. We were escorted out the front doors (which each had two men holding them open) out onto the front drive and before we could even reach the drive, a black 2011 E class Mercedes with blacked out windows pulled up. Two men simultaneously opened the back doors and we got in and the car pulled away and through the multiple security gates. Amy and I just looked at each other and started laughing. It was clear that we were in one of the nicest cars in the city… or at least that’s how it seemed. He raced through the traffic with ease and we were at the drop off point for our hotel in no time. I ran back and got the suits and we were back at the spa in no time.

We changed and headed up to the pool. Again, we were the only ones in the pool. The pool was indoor and extremely well appointed. The entire bottom of the pool was an intricate mosaic. It’s what I imagined Roman baths to look like at the height of the empire. Columns and lounge chairs surrounded the pool. At the middle of the pool was a suspended lounge area with pillows and a bed. The water was warm and Amy and I swam with the entire place to ourselves. We also hit up the huge hot tub. It was like something out of a movie. Soon a girl came and reminded us that our appointments were starting soon and to please follow her. Amy got a facial, and I had a Hammam treatment and massage. I can’t really explain Amy’s facial since I wasn’t there, but I’ll tell you about the Hammam. Before you read this google Hammam so you know what it’s all about.

Before it started the girl came in and said that due to Muslim custom a man would be performing the Hammam on me. What was I supposed to say to that? I just responded, “uh, ok, whatever you say”. Soon a man came in dressed in all white and told me to follow him. I was a little uncomfortable because I had just changed out of my swimsuit and into a pair of paper underwear that they provided. I was wearing that and a robe when my hammam helper came and got me. He ushered me toward some glass doors that I could tell was a steam room and sat me down and told me that he would come back for me in 15 minutes. The heat and steam was stifling at first, but it got better after a while. I could tell that there was eucalyptus or something in the steam. It made it hard to breathe and a couple times I had to suppress a gag. I was the only one in there though, so it didn’t really matter. Eventually the man came to get me. He guided me toward a shower area. He held out a tub of black goop and told me it was olive soap. I wasn’t going to argue with the guy at that point, so I just nodded in agreement. He then started to rub it all over my body until I was covered in the stuff. Then he rinsed it all off and took me into a room with a granite or marble bed with a towel on it and told me to lay face down. Then I felt this scratch pad (some kind of exfoliating tool) rub all over my back. The scratching was almost to the point of being uncomfortable, but I hung in there. He proceeded to use this scratchy mitt all over my whole body. I was sure I had to be bleeding in some areas, but that wasn’t the case. He then came in with a tub of brown clay like mud and rubbed it all over (except where my paper underwear was) until I was covered in the stuff. He took a tub of white stuff and rubbed it on my face. He told me to lay down and that he would be back in 15 minutes. As I lay there, the stuff dried and it was starting to itch all over. He came back after the 15 minutes and took me again to the shower area and rinsed it all off. Then he got out some white soap (liquid like substance in a cup) and told me that it was different type of olive soap this time. He rubbed it all over again and then rinsed. And that was the end of the hammam experience. Pretty interesting. After that it was back to the relaxation room for tea to hang out until my masseuse came. 5 minutes went by before the masseuse came and she took me to the massage table in another room. I won’t get into the details of the massage… just that it was relaxing and I almost fell asleep.

When I was all done I went up to the pool and found Amy cuddled up in a lounge chair with the ipad fully involved in Plants vs. Zombies! She told me all about her facial and then we decided that we needed to get something to eat before she went to have her hair done. We asked the concierge if there was any place nearby to grab a quick sandwich or bite to eat. “Of course sir, we have a restaurant on the terrace that you’re welcome to use!” So we followed him to our seats and sat down in a beautiful garden where we were waited on hand and foot. Amy ordered a tomato and mozzarella panini with still water and I ordered a salmon sandwich. We didn’t notice the prices on the menu, but when the bill came we realized we had just bought $50 sandwiches! Lol! But they were pretty good sandwiches!

Amy made it to her hair appointment. She had decided long ago that she wanted to chop her hair extremely short… pixie style. And that’s just what the stylist did. We weren’t too happy with the final look though. Since the cut, Amy has gone in again to have more taken off. And she may go in yet again to have more taken off.

So the spa was a success and we headed back to the hotel to regroup and plan.

We decided that we were going to eat at the main square that night. In the evening and into the night there are hundreds of vendors that come and set up stalls to sell food. When we arrived to the square, as usual, we were greeted by an on slot of local vendors trying to get us to come to their stall. What I noticed was that each stall pretty much looked the same and they were identified by number. Each stall had a cooking area, a place for people to sit, a white plastic tent like top under which there were light bulbs hung. Each stall had a guy dressed in a white lab coat trying to convince everyone to come to their stall. Each stall was only about 15 to 20 feet wide, so you can imagine how there was a guy in a white lab coat every few feet. One would start working on us before the other had finished his pitch. Amy was the weak link in this situation because she smiled at the guys and made eye contact and that really got them going. I ended up doing a lot of waiting as she tried to convince each one of them that we weren’t interested.

Finally we decided on a place to eat and the guy in the lab coat was triumphant as we took our seats. We ordered multiple courses of local fare and enjoyed every bite. Amy loved the dipping sauces, and I really like the soup they served with a huge wooden spoon. We were tempted to go to one of the stalls that was selling fried sheep head, but we were way too full after eating all of our courses… in fact probably 50% of our food was still left over and Amy was embarrassed to just leave it there. But we paid and escaped!

The next plan was to go to a night club to hang out and check out the local night life. We heard about a place that did belly dancing… nevermind that belly dancing is about as foreign to Morocco as eating fried sheep head meat would be to a customer in Kansas City… but I digress.

We started walking around on the square, watching the snake charmers, henna tattoo artists and entertainers. We noticed that there were big circles of locals gathered around local entertainers. It wasn’t just tourists gathering at the square. We noticed that it was mostly locals at the square that evening, which I thought was strange. We continued to walk to a main street so that we could catch a cab. As we walked, we were hit up by vendors trying to sell trinkets and such. Some of them were clearly mentally retarded, and others were just small children trying to sell little toys and trinkets. Amy decided that she wanted to buy some toys that shoot up into the air and light up to give to the kids when we got home. We haggled with an older girl and bought three, and then right after our purchase another girl that must have been about 9 came up and tried to sell us the same toys that we just bought. She didn’t speak a language we could understand, but we could tell she was begging for us to buy the toys from her. She kept saying 5 Dirham. We didn’t want to buy the toys, and we didn’t have anything smaller than a 50 (about 5 Euro). So we just kept walking and she kept following. The problem was that we couldn’t just walk completely off the square because we were trying to catch a cab, or at least decide what we were going to do. And the whole time this girl was just standing next to us pleading for us to buy. Amy was starting to crack I could tell, and I was determined to just move on. So we started walking in another direction and she followed along with us. Then an older boy came up and mocked the little girl and she began to cry and yell at the boy while he laughed at her. I noticed Amy’s jaw set as she watched this happen and I knew she was pissed. We continued to walk and change direction, and I even walked off in front, and when Amy joined me again, the girl was gone. Later Amy admitted that she gave the girl the 50. I’m sure the girl just ran off and had gave it to her pimp like boss. So sad.

We took a cab to our destination (and got ripped off… again thrown off of my haggling game) and were escorted by the doormen to the upstairs lounge of a restaurant. We asked the waiter if we were in the right place for belly dancing and he confirmed that they did a show every night. We hung out, ordered some snacks and settled in for an evening of conversation, people watching, and belly dancing. Soon enough the dancers came. The first wave of dancers were older ladies balancing huge plates of candles on their heads and dancing at the same time. They were quickly followed by the younger and more scantily clad belly dancers. Amy went and got change for a 100 (MAD) and got some bills for tipping. We wouldn’t want the young ladies to starve… lol. We had a great time!

Soon after the dance we had a little excitement with a girl that was trying to pass our table and fainted right in front of me and crashed to the floor with a bang. She was immediately surrounded by guests and staff and never really came to. Amy and I figured that her roofie must have kicked in a little early… they had to carry her out.

We caught a cab home and paid less than half that it cost for us to get there, further confirming my conviction that we were ripped off earlier. We walked expertly to our hotel in the dark without getting lost and got a good night’s rest. The next morning we were served our breakfast again, but this time in the atrium. We said our goodbyes to the hostess and promised to leave positive feedback.

The return to the airport was a reverse of what it was on the way in. We left Marrakech with the feeling that we were there for the perfect amount of time and that if we had planned to stay any longer that it would have been too long. We would have liked to do some more shopping, and perhaps an excursion or two out to the Atlas mountains or the Sahara, but we needed to get back to our kiddos and our jobs. Hopefully one day we can return to Marrakech to create more great memories.

**This is Amy... I couldn't resist and wrote just a few captions below**

Right before I was attacked, the guys in the background were the ones that saved me but then turned out to be false guards that were trying to rip us off later!!
That was our menu!! Walking back to our room Jemaa el Fnaa

The souks

Donkey pulled wagon going through the middle of the souks. These and the motorbikes were a constant threat!!!

The camels that take tourists to the Sahara dessert. I wish we could have done that but it is a 2-day excursion Stop sign in Arabic
The restaurant MK One of the 7 courses!! The menu included 2 desserts and then they brought us an extra one since we told them it was our anniversary! Nevermind that they wrote Happy Birthday on it, we knew what they meant. I LOVED how these metal things we on all the lights here! It made the coolest designs on the walls! The Koutoubia mosque is to Marrakesh that the Eiffel tower is to Paris La Mamounia Spa 100 euro lunch!!

The look I was wanting... The look that I got... :/ Bread and salsa for appetizer Looks gross but was so delicious! Our camera died after this picture so this was the last picture of Morocco. We left early the next morning. I had promised Whitney she could have her first sleepover when we got back with a girl from church. They were SO cute!!! SOOOO Happy to be back home with my babies!!