Marrakesh - Marketplace Madness and Garden Oasis
With a full day and a clear schedule ahead of us, Ang and I headed back into the fray at Jmaa El Fna, the main square of the Marrakesh medina. We had planned to find the El Badii Palace, but things took a bit of a turn when we (somewhat wittingly) walked into a common scam.
A local saw us shopping on the side streets just surrounding the square and very excitedly asked us if we knew that the Berber market was in town "only for today because tomorrow they go back into the mountains." I think we were both leery of the claims of a special one-day only market, but it was shopping day, and we were open to perusing handicrafts one last time before heading home.
Welp, down the rabbit hole we went. After our "guide" took us down several winding roads and backstreets, we ended up at a leather tannery where we were handed over to the "manager". He took us through the malodorous tannery, explaining the leather treating process. We weren't enthused as we'd learned all about this in Fez already, and these tanneries were much less pleasant than those in Fez. Fetid animal waste and putrid, chemical-laden waste water was everywhere. Yet, for some reason we patiently listened to the man instead of just leaving. He took us to another tannery for a closer look at the dying process. Yuck.
After our tannery tour, we were taken to the leather shop and passed off to another "manager" to be shown the leather goods. The shop was full of the same products we had seen countless times by this point - shoes, purses, jackets, pouf-style seats. We did take an earnest look around before leaving. The "manager" was quite rude and aggressive at that point, pretty much kicking us out of the shop, and then the tannery "manager" demanded money from us for his time. Luckily, neither of us really had much money on us at that point, so we gave him a paltry sum and started to walk back the way we came. Or so we thought.
The medinas in Morocco are infamously labyrinthine. As we attempted to find our way back to the main square, a couple of young boys told us we were heading in the wrong direction. One boy offered to walk us back. I knew he'd be asking for money eventually, but we were somewhat lost, so agreed. He walked us back to the main road and told us to go straight. We gave him a small amount and thanked him for his help. He got frustrated and belligerent about the sum we gave him, demanding more. We walked further on down the road to get away from him. He ran up to us, telling us we were going the wrong way and setting us on the right street to the medina.
Fortunately we did make it back to the main square, following his directions. Unfortunately, this scam had used up a chunk of our time for the day and wore down our feet. We stopped to catch our breath at a small tea shop.
Again, we set off for the palace through the winding streets of the marketplace. I was on the hunt for a nice set of tea cups and Ang was on the hunt for... everything? Ha ha! We didn't make much progress toward the palace before Ang had two tagines, a bag of spices, a pile of beauty gifts, a Berber rug and a new dress in tow.
Barely able to waddle down the street while carrying her purchases, Ang and I decided maybe a stop at our hotel would be best. So we flagged down a cab (after I tried bargaining with like five cabs to save a few dirham because I'm the cheapest Scotsman ever) and made a hotel pit stop to drop off all the effing tagines. Ha ha! More on the tagines later...
After a rest and reset, we decided a visit to the Jardin Majorelle - a garden oasis - would be the perfect way to spend the afternoon calmly recuperating. The Jardin Majorelle was originally a private residence owned by French painter Jacques Majorelle. In 1931, he commissioned architect Paul Sinoir to build an Art Deco artists studio (painted in "Majorelle Blue").
Majorelle also began planting his exotic garden at that time, which would contain plants collected on his world travels. In 1947, he opened his garden to the public, but it fell abandoned after his death in 1962.
The property was purchased by fashion designer Yves Saint Laurent and Pierre Berge in 1980. They began restoring the property and added a museum of Berber culture. After Yves Saint Laurent died of brain cancer in 2008, Berge donated the property to their foundation, which became the Foundation Jardin Majorelle. The Foundation conserves, maintains and operates the property as well as invests in cultural, educational and social projects in Morocco.
There is a memorial to YSL in the gardens. It's a lovely, solemn place where weird millennials lip sync and dance awkwardly while live-streaming over Instagram apparently. Because the selfie generation is the worst. That's right. I said it. The. Worst.
Walking back in the early evening, we stopped at a street side restaurant that we had frequented the day before for a delicious, cheap, local meal. Hmm... all of a sudden I'm much less cranky. Okay, I might have been hangry, but between the market scams, the cab wrangling, and the selfie a-holes, it has been a long day.
I turned in early to recharge for our last full day in Morocco.
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