Tag Archives: Africa

On This Day – Marrakech at Night

Sometime between the end of the afternoon and the early evening the square had been transformed from a market place to an open air theatre with swarms of people and this is something that occurs every single day of the year. The snake charmers and the monkey men had packed up and gone home and had been replaced by a carnival of musicians, storytellers, transvestite dancers and other entertainers.

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On This Day – The Souks of Marrakech

Even though travel restrictions are easing I am not yet minded to risk it so I still have no new stories to post so I continue to go through my picture archives and see where I was on this day at any time in the last few travelling years.

On 8th October 2010 I was in the Moroccan City of Marrakech…

Here was a whole new experience with street after street of shops all overflowing with things for sale that we didn’t need but each with an owner who didn’t understand this and was determined to part us from the cash in our wallets. The place was murderously busy with a stream of people oozing past the shops like a flow of molten human lava and progress was so slow we could only shuffle awkwardly as though our shoe laces were tied together and it was quite impossible to walk with any kind of normal rhythm.

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Thursday Doors – The Majorelle Gardens in Marrakech

Majorelle 01

The blue is called Majorelle and is made from pigment found only in the Moroccan soil and he must have been especially fond of it because as well as the house the garden was full of large pots all painted predominantly in this colour and contrasting nicely with others in orange, yellow, red and green.

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Thursday Doors is a weekly feature allowing door lovers to come together to admire and share their favourite door photos from around the world. Feel free to join in the fun by creating your own Thursday Doors post each week and then sharing your link in the comments’ on Norm’s site, anytime between Thursday morning and Saturday noon (North American Eastern Time).

Thursday Doors, Marrakech in Morroco

Marrakech Door 06

There was only one way out of the warren of alleys so we had to follow the same route again back through the anarchic streets and to the hectic roundabout where the traffic situation had not improved and even the policeman had given up and left his post but his didn’t seem to matter at all because he wasn’t being very effective anyway.

We were a bit confused and the free tourist map wasn’t a big help but we were confident that we were making steady progress towards our first intended destination of the famous big square in the heart of the city, the Djemma el Fna.

Click on an image to scroll through the Gallery…

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Thursday Doors is a weekly feature allowing door lovers to come together to admire and share their favourite door photos from around the world. Feel free to join in the fun by creating your own Thursday Doors post each week and then sharing your link in the comments’ on Norm’s site, anytime between Thursday morning and Saturday noon (North American Eastern Time).

 

Morocco, Top Travel Tips – The Majorelle Gardens

“A visit to Marrakech was a great shock to me. This city taught me colour”  – Yves Saint Laurent

The gardens were just around the corner now and it was hot in the sunshine as we stood in line for our tickets and then went inside through the gates.

The garden was designed and laid out in the 1920s by the French painter Jacques Majorelle who created marble pools, raised pathways, banana trees, groves of tall bamboo, coconut palms and bougainvillea but first of all we followed a path through species of cacti carefully collected from all over the world.

The path led to a lily pond that reminded me of Monet’s garden at Giverny in France and which stood in front of a house, a museum now but closed today during refurbishment, which is painted a unique shade of blue.

This seemed odd, it was in contrast to every other building in Marrakech and I wondered how the painter had managed to get around the crimson decree which specifies that everywhere must be red.  The blue is called Majorelle and is made from pigment found only in the Moroccan soil and he must have been especially fond of it because as well as the house the garden was full of large pots all painted predominantly in this colour and contrasting nicely with others in orange, yellow, red and green.

Majorelle, it turns out wasn’t an especially great artist and his garden, rather than his paintings, was his masterpiece.  It is composed and coloured like a work of art. As well as the pots, water is an important feature and there are water filled channels, lily ponds with reflections of the towering palm trees and bubbling fountains.

He was an avid plant collector but after he died in 1962 the house was left empty and the garden abandoned lay for nearly twenty years.   Eventually it was threatened with demolition which is a reminder that sometimes what we create in our life times is only temporary.  After a long period of neglect the garden was then taken over, saved and restored by the fashion designer Yves Saint Laurent.

As we wandered along the meandering paths the blue sky suddenly and without warning gave way to grey cloud and within seconds we were in the middle of a heavy rain shower and we had to take cover in a café where there was shelter under the leaves of the banana plants planted around the perimeter.

It took about twenty minutes for the heavy rain to slow down and before we could leave the shelter and then as the rain eased off we returned to the gardens which somehow managed to look even better now with the shiny wet pavements catching shimmering reflections of the brightly coloured pots.

There was a shop of course where I was chastised for taking a picture of an attractive corner and the assistant stood over me and insisted I delete it from the camera.  I fooled her by not following the procedure all the way through but she was satisfied that it was gone and she let me go without calling the photography police.

The path took us around the blue house with its bright yellow windows and strategically placed pots, through tall pergolas where exotic climbing plants raced each other to the top of the poles, past ponds full of goldfish and terrapins and through the bamboo swaying in the breeze as though in a hypnotic trance.  A second wave of rain passed over and we had to shelter next to the memorial to Yves Saint Laurent but it passed over quite quickly and we were able to continue the visit as rain drops splashed us as they dripped from the overhanging leaves.

On balance we would have preferred to have visited the garden without the rain but I suppose the plants all enjoyed the drenching.

    

When we had completed the walk around the garden and Kim was finally satisfied with her collection of pictures of the pots we left and started to walk back the way we had came.  We hadn’t got very far however when it started to rain again and this time it was really unpleasant.  It came in at an angle that got underneath our umbrellas, it had turned quite cool and the sky was grey and horrible in all directions.

We still had a few hours left before the flight home and we didn’t want to walk around all day in this but then as Kim moaned and Margaret complained about the plan to walk to the railway station Mike and I could see some better weather in the north so at a busy crossroads we found a café where we sat and sheltered and thankfully watched the weather, and the girl’s moods, improve as the pavements quickly dried as the sky turned blue and the temperature began to rise.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Vibrant, The Majorelle Gardens

Majorelle Gardens Marrakech

Jacques Majorelle was an avid plant collector but after he died in 1962 the house was left empty and the garden abandoned for nearly twenty years.   After a long period of neglect it was then taken over and restored by the fashion designer Yves Saint Laurent.

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Optimistic – Hoping For a Beer Later

Morocco is a Muslim country so getting a drink is sometimes difficult.  Just look how uninviting those tables look all set out for lunch time customers.

Water No Beer

Later that night we left the Riad and made our way back towards the centre tackling the crowds and the traffic on the way.  At a busy section there was a rather seedy looking hotel called the Grand Tazi and the word was that it served alcohol so we took a look inside and indeed it did and delighted by this discovery we followed a waiter to the roof terrace and ordered beer and wine.

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Ornate

Djemma el Fna, Marrakech

The first people we came across were the city’s iconic water sellers in their red tunics with gold braid, colourful sombrero hats and brass cups hanging from leather belts strapped around their bodies.

In the old days these people provided a real and valuable service and dispensed questionable water from a leather canteen to local traders and thirsty travellers but they are practically redundant now in their substantive role because sensible people prefer safe bottled water to the uncertain quality of the water in their satchels.  Their job now is to have their picture taken with the tourists and charge 10 dirham a time (about £1) and they probably make a lot more money doing this than they ever did selling dirty luke warm water.

And if you don’t pay but try instead to sneak a picture…

Morocco Water Seller Djma El Fna

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Beneath Your Feet

… I say terrified because to cross this swaying, rotting foot bridge required Indiana Jones type nerves of steel.  Some of the planks of wood were missing and the steel rope that held it all together was rusty and corroded.  With two or three people on it at the same time it rocked and lurched precariously from side to side and below us was a drop of about twenty metres to the fast flowing river strewn with sharp rocks and jagged boulders which, if it didn’t kill you outright, would have guaranteed an unpleasant landing and maybe a night or two in a hospital bed if the whole thing had come crashing down.

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Blur, Marrakech and Djemma el Fna

Sometime between the end of the afternoon and the early evening the square had been transformed from a market place to an open air theatre with swarms of people and this is something that occurs every single day of the year.

The snake charmers and the monkey men had packed up and gone home and had been replaced by a carnival of musicians, storytellers, transvestite dancers and other entertainers.  There were fairground stalls and all sorts of opportunists trying to sell things not just to tourists but to each other as well.  There was a crackle of excitement around the square that was fuelled by the energy of all the players and it was impossible not to be caught up in the excitement of it all.

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