25 June 2006 — Just had lunch of chawarma de poulet and I find myself now blogging on one of the complimentary computers provided here at ICANN Marrakech. Yup, 4 hours till Billie is done, just gone off to attend some IDN (Internationalised Domain Names) workshop. So where is Marrakech? It’s in Morocco, Africa. I know, c’est tres bizarre. I still haven’t quite registered that I’m really here either. Before I proceed to expound on all the adventures that we’ve had to date, let me just take a sec to thank all of you who sent me such kind words of encouragement after reading my last blog. It hadn’t been easy, but I’ve ploughed through knowing I had this upcoming trip, which is kind of why I’m here to begin with. I just needed to get away, away from Hua Hin. My attitude was “anywhere will do really” and of course the farther the better. So when William was informed that he would be attending this conference and thus had to cut his stay in Hua Hin short, the crazy idea of “why don’t I follow him” was conjured and executed in no time. And yes, just a week later, I find myself here.

But believe you me, Marrakech is no easy place on the planet to get to. For myself, it was 3 different flights from Bangkok to Zurich to Barcelona to Marrakech. For Billie, ‘cos he was so sweet as to join me in Bangkok, it was 5 freaking flights from Sydney to Singapore to Bangkok to Zurich to Barcelona and only finally to Marrakech! But of course if you had plenty of moolah and don’t mind paying double the price, there’s always the more straight-forward option of just flying Air France. We flew Swiss Air, and well, let’s just say the phrase “it just isn’t Sing Air, is it” kept running through my mind like some broken recorder. Other than the teeny-tiny seats, the food portions were also miniscule. And geez, no hot towel on arrival, no constant offerings of water or juices, no ice-cream after your meal proper, no 5702 movie channels, no “friendly skies” smiles, IT JUST ISN’T SING AIR, IS IT?

I mean, when you have to stir your tea with the other end of your already-used knife…

With certain things… there’s just no turning back is there? Especially not when you’ve had a taste of Raffles Class, twice. Having said that, I will just add that at least the service didn’t suck big-time and the flight attendants weren’t all old, wrinkled and jaded like on BA and Qantas! And well, we did get here in one piece.

So Marrakech, Marrakech, where do I even begin. First impressions… the city does live up to its moniker, in every direction we looked as we headed out of the airport into the city – red, red and MORE red buildings. In fact, be it the ancient Medina (the old city) or the modern Gueliz area, every freaking building, whether new or old, downright dilapidated or swanky and poshy, is the same shade of faded ochre red!

Kind of like this building we saw on the way back to the hotel. There aren’t even aberrations of pink or crimson. It’s really really strange. There must be some legislation on it. I refuse to believe the Marrakechians are such boring people by choice.

As an overview, I would say this city is absolutely fascinating! I’ve never been anywhere half as strange or mesmerizing. Constantly Billie and I exclaim to each other how it’s like being on the set of some Iranian film. I mean people, we ARE well and truly into the 21st century and yet, this place feels strangely medieval, like a page out of “Arabian Nights” or something. All around, one’s senses are stimulated by the brilliantly coloured spices, entrancing music, rich folds of carpets, whirling dervishes and intertwining tile geometries. Seemingly obsolete occupations like merchants, snake charmers, acrobats, storytellers and artisans are very much the order of the day here. Indeed, once a key destination for trade and respite for weary sub-Saharan traders carrying gold, salt and slaves bound for Europe, Marrakech truly remains a symbol of the Morocco that once was, and which still survives here today. Words really can’t describe it; it is a place that needs to be experienced. And experience it we did!

For starters, rather than sticking with the typical big-chain hotels around, Billie and I checked ourselves into Riad Des Arts, much thanks to the recommendation of Deborah, a visiting hypnotherapist I met at CS who had just been to Marrakech a week prior herself. She made me promise I would stay in a riad and not a hotel. So for the uninitiated, a riad is a traditional Moroccan house or palace that has a central courtyard which opens up to the sky. Many also have rooftop terraces. In more recent times, a lot of these riads have been renovated and restored to their former glory and used as guesthouses. Like Des Arts, it’s a four-room only establishment that’s owned by Christof, a French guy who divides his time between Paris and Marrakech. He must be one of the least snobbish Parisians around. Upon our arrival, he personally came to welcome us and even took the time to partake in a cup of Moroccan mint tea. Yep, a local tradition – the de menthe, it’s served everywhere, in all the cafes and restaurants, and the amazing thing is that it’s made with fresh and not dried mint leaves. Tres bien! (Oh and by the way, I’m dropping French all over the place ‘cos that’s the language spoken here. Marrakech was occupied by the French once, their influence must have stayed. You know that when you get served croissants for breakfast. Yup, so we’ve been forced to use our tres tres rusty francais to get around.)

But back to Des Arts. Location wise, it’s great, very central, right in the heart of the Medina, which is where everything happens.

And here I am, at its entrance. Check it out, how more authentic can it be?!? At the end of an alley, which is really like any random alley those children run down in any random Iranian film.

Other than the very hospitable and personal service, the place is aesthetically very charming. In furnishing it, Christof has retained lots of Moroccan features while adding some European touches — a mix of East and West, much like Marrakech itself. Just check out our room AND bed, doesn’t it look inviting?

Trust me, it was very comfy too!

But my favourite item in the room had to be the bathroom door.

If I had my way, I’d rip it out and bring it home with me. Yes, that and the door of the room itself. Look at it, just look at it already! Absolutely gorgeous.

And so’s the rest of the place…

…from the main entrance…

… to the courtyard with its dipping pool…

…to the balconies of the upper levels…

…to the rooftop terrace, in fact, we chose this place ‘cos of its ultra-loungey terrace, and yup, we’re going to make full use of it!

But not quite yet, for the moment, we were famished! Recall that Swiss portions were pathetic and on Iberia (our budget flight from Barcelona to Marrakech), one would have to fork out 8 euros for a bloody sandwich! I think not… so after a not-so-quick shower, Billie and I found ourselves wandering into the streets of Marrakech looking for some much needed grub. We came to this local eatery called Toubkal, recommended by Zack, Des Arts’ housekeeper, for some basic, inexpensive Morrocan cuisine. So yes, exactly, what do Marrakechians eat anyway? We were quick to discover not much, not much at all. By that, we mean variety. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that even after just 1 day, William and I have had enough of it, we really wonder how the locals do it, having that same food day in day out for so many years of their lives?!?

So yup, let me introduce a typical meal…

There will always always be, at every meal, breakfast, lunch and dinner, this round loaf bread.

Then for starters, you will typically be served some sort of salad. Olives and tomato relish, as seen in the background, is usually also provided, prolly to have with the bread?

You might choose to have an omelette, which is another common item on the menu. We had ours with herbs, other choices include with tomato, cheese, onions, etc.

And for mains, there will always be Tajine dishes, these are usually meat served with potatoes and tomatoes. The uniqueness of this dish lies in the way it has been prepared — slow-cooked on low temperatures for hours in a tajine (a traditonal pot formed entirely of clay), resulting in tender, falling-off-the-bone meat with aromatic vegetables and sauce.

Other popular mains include shish kebabs and strangely “fish and chips” or “calamari and chips” (pictures of these to follow later). All of which is then of course washed down with coffee or more mint tea. So yes, this kind of food is alright in the beginning, but when you realise that there basically isn’t much else, the novelty soon dies out. The experience was still good fun though, sitting leisurely in an open-air restaurant, dining with the locals, and just watching the hustle bustle of the main Square. I mean, for crying out loud, we’re IN Marrakech! Freakin far-out…

Tasting the local cuisine was only the first of our adventures. Wait till I bring you into the Souks, which is where we were headed next, but that will follow in the next blog… for now, it’s already 7.05pm and I’m wondering where my husband is. So hang in there folks, I’ve got a geek to track down and a stomach to feed.

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