As most people travelling in Morocco, I had my trusty Lonely Planet (no Rough Guides this season it seems for any Europeans).
So we all head to roughly the same places. Tried the rated bar Nawama (meaning "hot and cold" apparently) which left me.... cold.
Kinda opulent in terms of Marrakech. Was it the opulence (again) which freaked me, or the conspicuousness of being a single guy in a bar/restaurant?
Turned round and went straight back out and passed some loud 'lundener' Brits coming in.
Glad I left. As soon as I saw them and they saw me, there was a reversion (for me at least) of eye-avoidance, no-smiles, and shoulders down to avoid confrontation. And I'd been enjoying the smiling and eyes-up of holidaying too much for that bullshit.
Got dinner at the other LP rated place overlooking the Jemaa el Fna (still can't say "Fna" without thinking of the Viz "fnarr"). Much better, even though all the food was off for one reason or another. My kefta tagine was "very good" according to the waiter which was a blessing as it was the only main left(!).
Actually it was rather good, if a tad eggy (more of an omelette but still enjoyable and the setting was worth it).
Jemaa el Fna better written about just about everywhere else, but one bit the writers miss is the fact that they still have games there that I haven't seen since going to fairs in the '70's.
Hooking the bottle with a crappy rod and hoop on a bit of string is a classic (and no less fun it seems than it was back then).
New variants seem to be kick the ball and knock down 2 skittles and putt a golf ball up a long stretch of fabric into a plastic hole. The guy's mate was doing it for fun, encouraging punters to have a go...
luckily it seems snakes sleep at night so none of those shenanigans at night.
Labels: Morocco, travels