I started off the day today by waking up around 9h30 and heading to Djema El-Fna, where I’d scheduled to meet some couchsurfers that I’d met the night before: Pedro from Portugal, Wak from the US (living in Spain) and Veronica from Spain. We met up in the rain and, in spite of the many umbrella salesmen chanting “padaplwee padaplwee padaplwee,” we didn’t buy an umbrella. It was never pouring but after a while in the rain we were soaked. We sat down for a crêpe breakfast. The crêpes here are made from a dough rather than a batter, but they’re still delicious.
We decided to all walk to les jardins majorelles which wasn’t too fr. On the way out of Djem el-Fna, one of the entertainers ran up to me and threw a monkey on my back. This has never happened to me before. I mean, no one has ever thrown a monkey at me. “Take a photo!” he shouted after me. “Ehhh…” I said as I continued walking away, monkey on board. I left the center photoless and monkeyless.
As we continued walking and soaking up the rain, often getting lost and asking for directions from the friendliest people in the world, we stumbled upon an outdoor market. Clearly, this was not a tourist market. We were the only tourists there, in fact. We took a look around and decided we’d be back for lunch.
After quite a bit of walking, we arrived, completely soaked. My hair is pretty long now, so I was shaking off the rain like a dog. To protect my computer from the rain, I finally gave in and bought a padaplwee. The gardens were very nice and had different sections representing each continent. The tall trees and rain made i*t feel a bit like a rainforest. It as cool to see, but I was more excited about returning to the market. We stopped in a little covered shack where I assume a mother and 2 children cooked food and served locals. Only one meal was offered, and that’s what I ordered. Chicken, beans and bread. It was delishus. I wasn’t a big fan of the liver or neck on my plate, but the flavor was just so tasty? How much? “13,” said the son. “15,” said the mother. “15,” the boy corrected himself. OK, I can pay a euro fifty for this. We also went to palais de la bahia, which shared the name of the restaurant Minh and I went to for Valentines Day. This place didn’t serve huge portions of food, though, and was a bit older. They were both crowded with Europeans, though.
We headed out and met a few Moroccan CSers from last night’s meeting – all really friendly and interesting guys. Some of them have traveled all over Morocco by hitch hiking. We had some tea, walked aroud and ate some more. At night, Djeme el-Fna transforms into a vibrant nightlife. Drummers, magicians, acrobats, snake charmers, story tellers, psychics – and fewer tourists than you might imagine. I got a fresh squeezed orange juice which was the best I’ve ever had, then we sat down for a traditional Moroccan soup. It was outdoors under the cover of a large tent, and it as chaotic.. not in a panicky way, but an exciting way. It felt as though we were eating in the middle of a chaotic kitchen, as the chef was a few feet away from us as he flourished with his spoon and bowls, spilling a deep red soup into bowls for the Moroccans who crowded around him. The soup was delicious, the chef very friendly, and it was an authentic Moroccan experience.
The culture here is wonderful, and the people refreshing. So friendly, so carefree.
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