the continuing tale of the London girl soon to become a Marrakchia

2009-01-26T10:41:00.003Z

So we had met...........
We spent the week together, visiting Morocco and doing all the usual tourist stuff with our friends. Abdel was our constant companion and by the end of the week, I wondered how I would ever leave. I adored Marrakech and I adored Abdel.
The day finally came and after tearful farewells and promises to return soon, I was back on the plane to Blighty. I just knew I would be back......
Now it has to be said that I have always been somewhat flighty and moved to impulsive gestures. My friends didn't believe it when I told them I was going back. My parents, as you can imagine, were absolutely horrified. A holiday romance that would never work.
I knew that I would do it anyway, and I did.
Two months later I was back on the same flight to Marrakech.....

The continuing tale of a London Girl in Marrakech

2009-01-09T11:45:00.009Z

I first came to Marrakech twenty two years ago. What a shock to the system.
I remember arriving in Marrakech airport at around 10.30pm and being met by a very strange looking man wearing a pointed hooded cloak, holding out my name on a piece of paper. I wondered about this strange attire and later learned that it was called a Djellaba and everyone wears them although not always with the hood up.
It was dark and we jumped into a very old Mercedes taxi and proceeded to enter the Medina of Marrakech.
I had been very lucky and had been given the use of a riad in one of the oldest parts of the city called Riad Zitoun. I had never visited an Arab country before, and was not prepared for the shock of the dark winding streets with guardians (whom I mistakenly took for beggars) strategically placed by several front doors.
I felt very anxious and remembered my mother's warnings about slave traders and blond hair. Nowadays, I can't even believe that I was so naive.
The driver stopped outside a tiny wooden door and waved us out of the car.
"My God, what have I done" is exactly what went through my head at that moment. I nearly headed straight back to the airport. Luckily I didn't, because this holiday was the start of my new and very exciting life in Marrakech!!!!
On entering the riad, my first thoughts were "I've died and gone to heaven"
We had entered the most beautiful home that I had ever visited. It was owned by a Swiss banker and this was rather unusual at the time. Twenty two years ago in Marrakech it was rare for a foreigner to own a riad in the Medina. The people that did tended to be VERY eccentric.
His home was astounding. Beautiful mosaic tiled walls, sumptuous hand woven carpets, intricately carved wooden ceilings and plaster work with beautiful period pieces scattered around. Filigree lanterns everywhere and the hugest bed that I have ever seen. I was 22 years old and had never seen such luxury and certainly couldn't have afforded to stay anywhere quite so beautiful.
I will never forget that moment.

The next day I headed to the Jemma el Efna square with my friend. In those days it was not tiled and was a large beaten earth square, filled with orange juice stalls, women telling fortunes, watersellars and a surprising number of false teeth sellers. Hmm........
Jemma el Fna doesn't really come to life until the evening but there is still plenty to see during the day. We had walked straight into another century or so it seemed at first. We had a coffee in the Cafe Argana, at the time, a modest cafe with a great roof terrace. Just sitting there and watching the hordes of people milling around dressed in their colourful djellabas and head scarves was thrilling. So much to see from one spot.
Into the souks we headed, and soon realised that blond hair and ample curves made us very popular among the local youth. We spent a couple of hours haggling for trinkets in there, and eventually after several mint teas and a mind boggling number of marriage proposals (oh how I miss those days) we escaped intact , only to find that we had no idea how to actually get back to our riad. The people on the square were great and after asking directions, we were eventually led all the way back by a group of small boys who wouldn't take a penny from us.
We had met a couple on the plane who had been to Marrakech before. They were staying at the then named 'N'fis Hotel. We had arranged to meet this couple for a drink later on that evening.
We were very exited to be going out at night and entered the hotel, whose doorman 'Said' nicknamed 'Lion' because of his size, opened the doors and ushered us over to the bar.
There were a group of men sitting on one of the tables by the entrance of the bar and I remember one of them catching my eye immediately. I think you could call it 'A moment' We looked at each other and that was it.
Of course, we had to meet up with our friends, so we proceeded further into the bar and found them waiting for us. They were having a great time and couldn't wait to tell us all about their day. They had gone out with the Thomson Holidays tour guide on a tour of the city. Their guides name was Abdellatif and they raved about him. A little later, they asked him to join us for a drink. I couldn't believe it when my 'moment' man appeared at our table. Excellent!!!!!!
10 months later I married him!
But that's another story.

Heather's blog

the continuing tale of the London girl soon to become a Marrakchia

The continuing tale of a London Girl in Marrakech