The day of our Marrakech arrival was full of new experiences we won’t soon forget
The sun was setting and captivating Arabic script welcomed our Marrakech arrival… The flight’s crew seemed intent on making the trip a memorable one for all the wrong reasons, and but the flight was finally over, and our testy group funneled into the customs queue… Over an hour later, passing time trying to grasp any remaining sanity, we were finally in. Hello Marrakech!
Marrakech Arrival
Our Moroccan adventure began in the airport’s main concourse… One hundred exotic faces awaited us, drivers looking for passengers. First things first: Dirham. We pushed through the crowd, passing automatic-weapon-toting guards, and found the functional ATM… Several thousand dirham in hand, we found a cab and negotiated a ride to our final destination: Riad alBoraq, in the Medina…
The Taxi
Funky Arabian music blared from the tiny taxi’s speakers as we weaved through dark Marrakech streets at break-neck speed… We passed hundreds of noisy scooters, some loaded with helmetless families of three or four, tiny bright-colored cargo trucks, donkeys with heaping carts, our driver honking and verbally negotiating through intersections without traffic lights… Krissy nervously giggled and squealing all the way: “Awe, that would never pass back home!”
The Medina
When we passed through the old city walls into the Medina, it was sensory overload… The smell of charcoal grilled meat mingled with diesel fumes, spice, and incense… Brightly colored goods spilled out of tiny shop fronts into tightly winding streets, crowds of people in traditional dress shouted greetings over Arabian drums and flutes… Around each corner awaited a spectacle of sight, smell, and sound… And then we arrived, or did we? The cab stopped, and the driver started unloading our baggage into a relatively wide plaza… “Are we here?” “Yes,” he smiled and quickly drove off…
Our Escorts
As we made our way down the street towards the GoogleMaps red marker, all eyes were on us .. “Fresh meat?”, they must have thought, as we lugged our baggage along… We went through an archway, into a narrowed street, and a group of teenage boys approached… “Yes, what do you want?” “Nothing, we’re fine,” I replied. Krissy looked at me nervously as we continued on our way… The boys fell into formation around us… “Where are you going?” I told him the name of the Riad… “Ah, this way,” as they led us into a completely darkened corridor… GoogleMaps showed we were headed in the right direction, so it wasn’t time to freak out yet…
Passing through a moonlit opening, one of the boys explained in perfect English that he worked in another Riad, but when we ducked into the pitch black dead-end, I began to plan strategic defensive maneuvering… One of the boys knocked on an unmarked door, it opened, and we were warmly greeted by a French-speaking Moroccan man named Muhammed, and invited inside.. We entered a beautiful, brightly-lit courtyard, complete with indigo-colored pool and towering white arched walls. We had arrived: Riad alBoraq.
The Riad
Muhammed motioned for us to sit on the long, pillow covered sofa near the pool… We obliged, put down our bags, and within minutes were delivered a silver tea pot and cookies… Moments later the Riad owner, Michette, arrived to help settle us in.. She apologized that due to booking with Expedia, there was no way of contacting us to send a driver… No worries, we made it unscathed, and after showing us to our comfortable room, Michette drew a map of the neighborhood and set us up with a late Moroccan dinner on the rooftop terrace, complete with a bottle of local wine and hookah… As our day’s troubles melted away, tribal drums and chanting began to emanate from the Medina below, marking the end of our introduction to Marrakech…