Marrakech.
Sitting in the reception here of my hotel I am struck time and again by the problem of communicating in a foreign language.
A group of Chinese are angry that the Moroccan receptionist can't speak English well enough for them to understand what he is saying and so storm off to another hotel, without doubt to face the same problem.
A Spanish man comes to reception and tries to speak French to the receptionist ... total incomprehension on either side ensues, and much frustration (I manage to intercede and he goes away happy) .... the French sitting next to me at breakfast makes comments about me in French (as is I'm afraid usual for the French pretty condescending ... they find my sitting typing my blog on my computer somehow strange) completely oblivious to the notion I may be able to understand every word they are saying (I throw out a cheery "Bonne Journée" as I leave which leaves them looking sheepish) ... but the best is another group of cheery orientals who come into reception and proceed to shout at the receptionist (in a perfectly polite manner) who proceeds to shout back ... they are trying to go to the "Palais de Congres" (try saying that with a straight face if you're Chinese!) and total chaos ensues as each side outshout each other trying to make each other understand what the heck the other is saying. Much hilarity but total and utter failure.
By the way .... it's RAINING!!
Cookery classes
Sitting having my breakfast this morning at the cafe de France I was planning to contact Gemma to book a course.
I look up and amazingly she is standing g right beside me greeting her guests.
This is absolutely the best thing you can do in Marrakech ... bar nothing.
Spend an hour in the market buying ingredients and meeting the locals ... lectures on spices... go back to Gemma immaculate kitchen... and cook for over 2 hours.
Somewhat embarrassed that my bakingantics with a loaf are still remembered from 4 years ago! 😂
Sitting in Jamaa El-Fna
Small boy comes up to my table at the Cafe de France this evening as I had a coffee overlooking the square and tries and flogs me a biscuit (his last) from his tray. I am afraid, stuffed as I am from lunch, I politely decline.
He looks (professionally!) disappointed and skips off .... of course I am duly wracked with guilt (and he is after all Chelsea supporter!) and try and attract his attention to come back .... then disaster!
He falls over and #lastbiscuit goes flying. He gets up ... picks up #lastbiscuit ... looks around furtively ... and proceeds to wipe it on his rather bedraggled clothes ... before putting in back on the tray...#Lastbiscuit seems a rather unattractive option now! ;-)
As I finish my coffee though, he suddenly appears out of nowhere ... with a tray of new, IMPROVED biscuits! We haggle good naturally ... he wants £5 a biscuit (bless!) ... I offer 50p. In the end we settle on a pound.
The biscuit is absolutely delicious ... and made by Mum who comes over from her stool where she is selling 'stuff' to see all is well.
I actually buy a second biscuit (worlds most expensive biscuits ... but who cares) and stand drinking a medley of fresh juice, eating the biscuit ..... before heading off for bed.
Big day tomorrow ... watch this space!
Vegetable Market
Ingrained habits are hard to break.
At the market this morning the fruit was prodigious ... then so was the litter and rubbish strewn everywhere. Bit of an Arab thing I don't quite get ... but still.
However hard I tried I couldn't bring myself to add my biscuit wrapper and glass wipes to the collection ... I kept it on me til I returned to my hotel and could throw it in a bin. Odd, I know.
Here's my new Riad for one night before moving on tomorrow ... wonderful place and 30 yards from El Fna.
A SIM Card for my iPad.
Rashid here is the go-to man in Marrakech for all matters telephony .... eschewing posh offices, he sits in the street calmly buying and selling.
Whilst with one hand fitting a new local SIM card to my iPad, he took delivery of a defective MacBook, paid cash for it and passed it to his technical department ... sitting in a plastic chair next to him!
Only trouble was he has to go and enquire the price of my 10Gb card, so rushed off leaving ME in charge of his stand !!
All went well til this little moppet turns up and decided that all the SHINY phones belonged to her anyway ... and tried to make off with 3!!
Luckily Rashid returned before I suffered cardiac arrest !! 😀
Mamounia Hotel
Fulfilled one of of my ambitions and got to take a look round the famous gardens of the Marmounia hotel.
Then sat in a chair drinking orange juice. £8 a glass instead of 40p in the square and served with the same straws. Were I a betting man I would also suggest some of it was out of a carton 😅
Churchill painted here every winter ... my parents stayed here periodically ... and I get to drink orange juice here. Figures !!
The purpose of coming here was to compare the gardens to those at the Winter Palace in Luxor.
The WP edges it for me by some way ... more open ... better maintained (IMO) ...much more 'colour' ... and the hotel itself as a backdrop is far more imposing.
Bit hysterical and giddy for my liking here ... WP much more laid back. The inside of here looks like an upmarket brothel (whatever that looks like!)
And of course no view of the Nile ... and sunset ... and the feluccas!
Sorry Marmounia ... "you're fired' .. though the birdsong was amazing.
An encounter in the opticians.
PThere are moments when it's difficult to keep a straight face.
Anyone shortsighted like me when visiting a N. African country is well advised to buy a pair of spectacles.
My blind as a bat subscription ... in ultra thin lenses ... with an original Ray Ban frame .. £90 here and done within an hour. £50 in Egypt. Last quote I had in the UK ... £410.
Whilst being measured I observed a very classy local (black gloves and beautiful shoes) but dressed from absolute top to toe in black Hijab ... including a slit with a flap where her eyes were. She was having a sight test and chosing new frames. 😂
Trying on glasses was an absolute comedy as she tried to fit them through the flap and behind her ears. One arm went through ... whilst the other didn't ... the flap would get in the way ... once on, the flap would flop down and so neither she nor the optician could see what was going on. They seemed to both find this quite normal and played their role with complete seriousness. I'm afraid my fitter and I were killing ourselves.
No photos ... I'd have been lynched!
Shoe shine.
In a world of flips flops, trainers and cheap shoes ... I am hugely attractive to shoe shine boys .... On account of wearing leather shoes with leather soles. They consistently want to clean them. It can be annoying.
To deter them I have now taken to rubbing my shoes on the back of my trousers, indicating that is how I shine my shoes .... They look at me as if I am crazy .... One of them even ran away!!
The downside of haggling
The downside of haggling.
Met Mohammed when I stopped in a small village on the way up here. He told me he was going to the market at Ourigane and so offered him a lift. Amazing fellow ... A Berber from the mountains and yet he spoke perfect English (not French which is more usual here) and had a great sense of humor.
We chatted away, stopped for photos etc and when we arrived in Ourigane he showed me to the market.
At this point the hard sell started ... Silver jewelry made by Berber women. I simply didn't like it ... Any of it. Just because it's hand made by local people doesn't mean to say it's any good ..!
He was adamant I should buy something. I didn't want to and so offered him something derisory for the silver necklace he was offering me. After about 15 minutes to and fro (after 50 years I am a pretty tough bargainer, sometimes to my own chagrin) he gave me the necklace for £10... But I know I should have been a little more generous ... And I suspect he knows he should have been a little less insistent ... We both ended up unhappy with the result.
It's bloody raining again too .... 😩😩
Sitting in the reception here of my hotel I am struck time and again by the problem of communicating in a foreign language.
A group of Chinese are angry that the Moroccan receptionist can't speak English well enough for them to understand what he is saying and so storm off to another hotel, without doubt to face the same problem.
A Spanish man comes to reception and tries to speak French to the receptionist ... total incomprehension on either side ensues, and much frustration (I manage to intercede and he goes away happy) .... the French sitting next to me at breakfast makes comments about me in French (as is I'm afraid usual for the French pretty condescending ... they find my sitting typing my blog on my computer somehow strange) completely oblivious to the notion I may be able to understand every word they are saying (I throw out a cheery "Bonne Journée" as I leave which leaves them looking sheepish) ... but the best is another group of cheery orientals who come into reception and proceed to shout at the receptionist (in a perfectly polite manner) who proceeds to shout back ... they are trying to go to the "Palais de Congres" (try saying that with a straight face if you're Chinese!) and total chaos ensues as each side outshout each other trying to make each other understand what the heck the other is saying. Much hilarity but total and utter failure.
By the way .... it's RAINING!!
Cookery classes
Sitting having my breakfast this morning at the cafe de France I was planning to contact Gemma to book a course.
I look up and amazingly she is standing g right beside me greeting her guests.
This is absolutely the best thing you can do in Marrakech ... bar nothing.
Spend an hour in the market buying ingredients and meeting the locals ... lectures on spices... go back to Gemma immaculate kitchen... and cook for over 2 hours.
Somewhat embarrassed that my bakingantics with a loaf are still remembered from 4 years ago! 😂
Sitting in Jamaa El-Fna
Small boy comes up to my table at the Cafe de France this evening as I had a coffee overlooking the square and tries and flogs me a biscuit (his last) from his tray. I am afraid, stuffed as I am from lunch, I politely decline.
He looks (professionally!) disappointed and skips off .... of course I am duly wracked with guilt (and he is after all Chelsea supporter!) and try and attract his attention to come back .... then disaster!
He falls over and #lastbiscuit goes flying. He gets up ... picks up #lastbiscuit ... looks around furtively ... and proceeds to wipe it on his rather bedraggled clothes ... before putting in back on the tray...#Lastbiscuit seems a rather unattractive option now! ;-)
As I finish my coffee though, he suddenly appears out of nowhere ... with a tray of new, IMPROVED biscuits! We haggle good naturally ... he wants £5 a biscuit (bless!) ... I offer 50p. In the end we settle on a pound.
The biscuit is absolutely delicious ... and made by Mum who comes over from her stool where she is selling 'stuff' to see all is well.
I actually buy a second biscuit (worlds most expensive biscuits ... but who cares) and stand drinking a medley of fresh juice, eating the biscuit ..... before heading off for bed.
Big day tomorrow ... watch this space!
Vegetable Market
Ingrained habits are hard to break.
At the market this morning the fruit was prodigious ... then so was the litter and rubbish strewn everywhere. Bit of an Arab thing I don't quite get ... but still.
However hard I tried I couldn't bring myself to add my biscuit wrapper and glass wipes to the collection ... I kept it on me til I returned to my hotel and could throw it in a bin. Odd, I know.
Here's my new Riad for one night before moving on tomorrow ... wonderful place and 30 yards from El Fna.
A SIM Card for my iPad.
Rashid here is the go-to man in Marrakech for all matters telephony .... eschewing posh offices, he sits in the street calmly buying and selling.
Whilst with one hand fitting a new local SIM card to my iPad, he took delivery of a defective MacBook, paid cash for it and passed it to his technical department ... sitting in a plastic chair next to him!
Only trouble was he has to go and enquire the price of my 10Gb card, so rushed off leaving ME in charge of his stand !!
All went well til this little moppet turns up and decided that all the SHINY phones belonged to her anyway ... and tried to make off with 3!!
Luckily Rashid returned before I suffered cardiac arrest !! 😀
Mamounia Hotel
Fulfilled one of of my ambitions and got to take a look round the famous gardens of the Marmounia hotel.
Then sat in a chair drinking orange juice. £8 a glass instead of 40p in the square and served with the same straws. Were I a betting man I would also suggest some of it was out of a carton 😅
Churchill painted here every winter ... my parents stayed here periodically ... and I get to drink orange juice here. Figures !!
The purpose of coming here was to compare the gardens to those at the Winter Palace in Luxor.
The WP edges it for me by some way ... more open ... better maintained (IMO) ...much more 'colour' ... and the hotel itself as a backdrop is far more imposing.
Bit hysterical and giddy for my liking here ... WP much more laid back. The inside of here looks like an upmarket brothel (whatever that looks like!)
And of course no view of the Nile ... and sunset ... and the feluccas!
Sorry Marmounia ... "you're fired' .. though the birdsong was amazing.
An encounter in the opticians.
PThere are moments when it's difficult to keep a straight face.
Anyone shortsighted like me when visiting a N. African country is well advised to buy a pair of spectacles.
My blind as a bat subscription ... in ultra thin lenses ... with an original Ray Ban frame .. £90 here and done within an hour. £50 in Egypt. Last quote I had in the UK ... £410.
Whilst being measured I observed a very classy local (black gloves and beautiful shoes) but dressed from absolute top to toe in black Hijab ... including a slit with a flap where her eyes were. She was having a sight test and chosing new frames. 😂
Trying on glasses was an absolute comedy as she tried to fit them through the flap and behind her ears. One arm went through ... whilst the other didn't ... the flap would get in the way ... once on, the flap would flop down and so neither she nor the optician could see what was going on. They seemed to both find this quite normal and played their role with complete seriousness. I'm afraid my fitter and I were killing ourselves.
No photos ... I'd have been lynched!
Shoe shine.
In a world of flips flops, trainers and cheap shoes ... I am hugely attractive to shoe shine boys .... On account of wearing leather shoes with leather soles. They consistently want to clean them. It can be annoying.
To deter them I have now taken to rubbing my shoes on the back of my trousers, indicating that is how I shine my shoes .... They look at me as if I am crazy .... One of them even ran away!!
The downside of haggling
The downside of haggling.
Met Mohammed when I stopped in a small village on the way up here. He told me he was going to the market at Ourigane and so offered him a lift. Amazing fellow ... A Berber from the mountains and yet he spoke perfect English (not French which is more usual here) and had a great sense of humor.
We chatted away, stopped for photos etc and when we arrived in Ourigane he showed me to the market.
At this point the hard sell started ... Silver jewelry made by Berber women. I simply didn't like it ... Any of it. Just because it's hand made by local people doesn't mean to say it's any good ..!
He was adamant I should buy something. I didn't want to and so offered him something derisory for the silver necklace he was offering me. After about 15 minutes to and fro (after 50 years I am a pretty tough bargainer, sometimes to my own chagrin) he gave me the necklace for £10... But I know I should have been a little more generous ... And I suspect he knows he should have been a little less insistent ... We both ended up unhappy with the result.
It's bloody raining again too .... 😩😩
