“What are you looking for?”

We were immersed in Moroccan culture swiftly after landing. Our host in Marrakech was Khamal, a Berber in his late twenties who had a touching amount of concern for his guests well being. He showed us everything we needed to know about Marrakech in a 1 hour power session then followed this up with “Berber Whiskey”, a sweet mint tea that is served everywhere in Morocco. This was all very civilised and tame and we crashed out early.

The next day we went and got to know Marrakech properly.

This place is just charged with energy that wears you down. It’s hot (though not oppressively), busy, touristy and the Souks (markets) are just a different world. Come nightfall, everything doubles with the obvious exception of the temperature. The reason for this was Ramadan. Unbeknownst to us, our trip landed squarely in the first week of Ramadan, the Muslim month of fasting. From sun rise to sun set no food or drink of any kind may be imbibed and no pleasures such cigarettes or the fairer sex may be indulged. But when the sun goes down... it’s a different world. The main square in Marrakech is fairly empty during the day, just a few orange juice vendors hawking their wares. After evening prayer though this square fills up with locals and tourists alike as people pack into the temporary eating stands to get pretty much anything from soups to whole lambs on a spit. It was a feast for all the senses with the smell of roasting meat, the guys spruiking their stands and the lights strung everywhere being defused in the haze from the fires.

The markets district was several blocks all undercover that you quickly get lost in. Any sort of handy craft you wanted was available if you knew where to look. If you didn’t know where to look anyone nearby would try and sell you something from their shop, or their neighbours shop, or their friends shop just the street over. You walk through the winding streets with a constant cacophony of offers, declarations and questions. “What you looking for?”, “you want something?”, “where you from?”, “How much you want to pay”, “I have best shirts!”. You really just tune it out after 5 minutes. But not always... I remember one exchange I had in the food stalls after I had eater. A gentleman wearing a filthy white apron and a Lakers cap at a jaunty angle shouted out to me and this was the exchange.

“You’re a yank!”
“No I’m not!”
“Ah! Aussie! Down-Under mate!”
“I hate Down-Under!”
“Pavlova!”
“Lamington!”

This was all done from about twenty paces and I never stopped walking. I'm pretty sure I won.