After missing my connecting transfer bus between Gatwick to Luton airports in London - I sat in the freezing cold for two hours waiting and willing the arrival of the next National Express bus. Finally it arrived and I failed to thaw the entire 2 hour trip to Luton, so a "grande tea" was the first thing I ordered at 2am when I arrived and sat on the airport floor in a quiet corner to repack my bag into the mandatory 15kg's per bag - I needed two! Then I decided I was warm enough to sleep sitting in a upright position at a cafe table -my forehead down on the table. yes I did have a hotel room booked and paid in full, but as I missed my bus and would be in there for a 1.5hr sleep max then needed to find a taxi to the airport at 3.30am, it seemed pointless.
I was not the only mad woman sleeping at the airport - one guy pulled three cafe chairs together and lay on them looking like it was a make-shift coffin! Finally they opended for check-in at 3.30am - only me in the queue and thankfully no dramas for a change with my baggage!
After this I headed over to the cattle queue - security screening what a pain in the rear it is in the UK! And get this you know those 20cent machines as a kid you would get a toy from? Well Luton airport is using these to distribute or should I say sell the clear plastic bags that you are required to place all liqiuds in for 1 pound a bag!! Yes its big business at Luton airport!
Boarding my first ever Ryanair flight I was a little nervous and if the boarding process was a sure sign I knew this was going to be fun. After taking our boarding passes they made us stand outside in the freezing cold for another 10 minutes before we could walk across the tarmac to board the plane. Now I'm not a plane snob but... there was no net on the seat infront to hold your magazines ;) seriously it was like the plane was naked without it and so they paste the emergency landing card as a sticker on the seat infront and all inflatable life jackets are stowed overhead. I was later informed that there are apparently not enough for everyone but I'm not beleiving that or perhaps I just dont want to. Oh and did I mention the tragic fashion of the air hostess who was in her late twenties up close but from a distance I thought she was in her 50's with the ugliest blue jacket I have ever seen and a kill me now bob haircut. And her voice was equally irritating especially for a 6am flight - so high pitched I thought she was speaking in Dutch! Admitedlly the flight was ok but the seats and the plane just felt wrong - it probably was also exasperated by the fact I hadnt really slept since leaving Athens oh so many hours ago.
My flight was packed with English tourists going to Marrakech for the weekend- can you imagine??? Seriously Australians have lucked out in that department, we may have some beautiful weather and beaches but why cant we all just paddle the country up to sit in the Mediterranian?? :)
So touch down in Marrakech airport - passport control was soooo painfully long - just on 45minutes. I came out finally looking for my driver as the hotel had promised and no one to be found holding a sign with anything that may have resembled my name, so it was off to the taxi rank for a bit of an adventure. Now Lonely Planet says to tell them to use the meter - have you tried to tell a donkey to dance on command? So my taxi driver laughed and said no no no no - I contemplated opening the boot myself but was so tired at this point that I knew it was time to submit to the taxi gods and pay them an honour fee - 200 dirhams for what should have been 50 dirhams - nice one Kat!
Driving towards the Medina (walled city) I was suprised to see how modern the streets were - at least I'm honest. I was really expecting the city to be like Cairo but in my opinion it's far more modern. Everywhere I looked football (soccer) seems to be the sport of choice for the young Moroccan boys and men and this was a scene that greeted me the whole drive into town.
The houses on the outskirts are concrete blocks that remind me of the Meriton apartment complexes at Moore Park in Sydney - obviously not so glam.
After around 10min of driving, my taxi pulls up infront of a crazy scene of buses, taxi's, street vendors, pedestrians and of course donkey carts. From what he is saying in French and madly gesturing, I guess by looking the direction he points that cars cant go down the laneway and that I will need to take my bags to the Riad myself - great! Just then a old fat guy barges up and points to his trailer looking cart and goes to put my bags inside. I stop him to agree on a price first and see if he even knows my riad that I am staying at. He promises he does and we agreed on 50 dirham - yes locals would die if they knew but its around $5 and I cant be assed at this point. So of we go the fat man happy that he's bleeding the white tourist woman dry and I'm certain that all the locals he greets as we walk down the alley ways are asking how much he ripped me - but I'm just happy to give him a job so he can live off the streets really.
Sometime I go I read a book by Brisbane journalist Suzanna Clarke called "A house in Fez" all about a Brissie couple who fall in love with Morocco and buy a riad (house) to renovate. It was before reading this that I decided to make sure Morocco was on my to see list, but after reading the book, images of sandstone rendered alley ways weaving through mysterious medinas played in my mind. So this isn't too far from the truth and generally the alley ways are kept clean, its just that they look dark and dodgy and grey really so I was a little shocked to just see concrete walls and doors. My Riad was called Hotel du Tresor - a riad renovated by an Italian whose tastes filled the rooms with matisse paintings and Moroccan light fittings - quiet tasteful and perfectly located. We walked into the door with all my luggage and off the fatman went - Adriano the owner greeted me with the offer of mint tea which I would later learn to know as "Berber Whiskey" and loathe the smell due to the huge amounts I had to drink in the first few days and the kilos of sugar they pile into the glass! The riad had a beautiful lemon tree in the centre courtyard that hangs over a small plunge pool - which I was way too shy to use considering it was right in front of the office where the men sat and I was in a Muslim country with only a bikini and cursed myself for not bringing my boardies and rash vest.
The view from the roof terrace over the media showed an abundance of satellite dishes - another scene I would soon become all to familiar with in Morocco. The room had a massive bathroom that interestingly had a rug in the middle beside the big bathtub and one of those gorgeous victorian era chairs in the bathroom - perfect for dumping clothes on or reading in the bathroom perhaps??? The owner took me on a short tour of the surrounding streets so I would have my bearings to get upto the main square and move around.
I was dying to eat so in the main square I submitted to one of the touts and ate vegetarian couscous for 30 dirham ($3.50 approx) whilst people watching - that was still the best couscous I have had so far in Morocco and for a fraction of the cost of those tourist restaurants. It took me all of 2 hours of being in the country to shop :) BUT it wasnt for me I bought gifts so there!
So far I was liking what I saw of Marrakech - a little modern, a little bit of stepping back in time and some scenes that looked like they were from the book Aladdin.
Next blog... Marrakech the first two days.
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