definitely, and that's something I realized while writing this blog, probably 1990 was the year that did more trips. In addition to the many weekend outings, made the trip to Mallorca which commented on the blog before, and other important trip, back in October or November, to the fascinating Marrakech.
were only four days, but very intense. Four days of a bridge, I forget which, where half of the people of Madrid were due to occur the same day, because at the same time as ours, there came ten or twelve planes.
first thing that impressed us was the airport. Small surrounded by orange walls, with a control tower and terminal ridiculous that seemed incapable of assimilating all the planes he was receiving. The orange walls are a constant in the city, which is repeated in any place, both in the ancient and the modern.
The hotel we stayed seemed super luxury if we compared with other English in the same category. He had a monumental pool, palm trees and a lovely area. The issue of palms in a constant also in the city. The palm grove of Marrakech, with six thousand hectares, is probably the largest in the world. How is it possible that there is a big palm in a semidesert area?. The legend says that the soldiers of the founder of the city, from the desert, they stopped to rest in the area and began to eat dates and ripped. Bone-throwing was born on palm. A source probably false, but certainly very poetic.
Marrakech was the only place you plan traveled in sheep, with a very little group of people informed about where I was visiting. The first thing our guide told us was that we gave money to children, they would inevitably ask us. Getting off the bus to visit the Kutubiya, an impressive tower of the same architect who built the Giralda Sevilla (and look a lot, that's right) came to us a group. A group of women, probably feeling under siege, and with the intent to get rid of them, spent entirely on the recommendations of the guide, and let go to the small fry a lot of coins. What he wanted most, the poor. Kids came from everywhere, surrounding it as if it were a swarm of bees. He was unable to shake off. So much was their suffering, which did not come out of the hotel in four days.
That same day, the first, Pilar and I had the great privilege of walking through the square of the dead, Djemma the NaF, an amazing place, famous worldwide for their stalls, their water-carriers, their storytelling, their dentists (yes, their dentist, who extracted teeth or dentures placed in the middle of the street ), its snake charmers, their noises, sounds and smells. We deeply permeated the place. It was quite a spectacle to contemplate from the terrace of a bar that led us to take tea with mint. That same day we also had the opportunity to visit the Mamounia hotel, one of the most prestigious in the world.
The second day took us to Lourika Valley, a place that does not appear at all belonging to a city so connected to the nearby desert. Streams everywhere, orange, and abundant vegetation, seemed to be a kick to the environment. I remember vividly that Pilar gave a bic pen a guy who approached her before boarding the bus to return to the hotel, and then the kid tried to sell eight dirhams the same pen which had given her.
That evening we ventured, as was our custom every time we went somewhere, a walk on our own. We did not dare to go to the place of the dead, but we walk through the new town of Marrakesh, in all respects except in the clothing of its inhabitants, he recalled a European city, and not exactly the most neglected. Wide boulevards, street lamps every twenty yards, houses of no more than three floors ... Resulted in a market that sold all kinds of fruits, spices, souvenirs ... It was impossible to travel to Marrakech and not buying anything. Young camels of sandalwood, which gave off an aroma that does not have fared over the years, wooden boxes, Olive Root, glasses, the inevitable camel leather pouf, a few pots, plates of "tajine" in clay gouge imitating a silver ... All sorts of things that stand out with their own light when you see them at the store in question, and tarnish ostentatiously when, as in Madrid, place them next to the picture of your first communion or the Eiffel Tower in Paris bought golden. That's what always happens with things that are bought in exotic countries. Do not stick with mucus or anything else.
Pilar and I enjoyed racing. In fact most of the things we buy we did for the fun of haggling with the seller. We spent a Berber rug store situated in the center of a wide street, and immediately fell in love with Pilar two rugs, a red do not know what happened to her, and I still have white. The haggling went on for over half an hour. The seller was a guy very nice, smiling and speaking very slow and deliberate. Halfway through the negotiations that we offered a glass of mint tea. The fact is that we left loaded with two rugs. One that was traveling with us, and we wondered how we had cost. When you say the price, his eyes wide open. He paid more than triple by a carpet rather smaller than ours. As not believe it, we said that if he we brought to our shop the next day and agreed. I remember being nervous when he saw us and my racing Pilar seller with infinite patience. In the end he took a couple of rugs for same price we had paid us the day before. She could not believe.
The third day we held what was probably the most fascinating tour of our lives. Crossing the Atlas, we get to Ouarzazate, "the silent city, located at the beginning of the Sahara desert. It was incredible between the snow-capped mountains, and arid land that housed the city. We visited two abandoned kasbahs impressive, with adobe houses of several storeys. One day we enjoy the breathtaking scenery as dwarfs and suggestive shops and stalls that lined the route, both the Atlas and in the city covered the trip.
the last day, finally, we tie the blanket to the head, and visited the place of the dead on our own. We rent the services of a local guide who got us without hesitation in the depths of the medina. There was a time when we are scared, but eventually we reached the inevitable store leather jackets object of interest to our guide, and we could not avoid the temptation to buy a couple of jackets that remain forgotten in obscure corners of the cabinets of the people's house. A hunter who had been a long time to evolve during a strange smell, a mixture of raw leather and dye some more or less smelly.
To round off fascinating trip, we went last night for dinner at the palm. Pilar Berber dressed in black robes with an appealing color and a headband. Over dinner, squatting on a round table, a large number of Moroccan folk groups enlivened the moment, with their chants and frenetic pace that always accompanies them.
A memorable trip indeed. I think it was more cost us time to recover Pilar and my lifestyle, once back to Madrid. We considered seriously tiing the blanket to the head, leaving work and family, and settle near the place of the dead.
Something happened every time we traveled, incidentally.
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