Fashion & a Cup of Tea: Exploring Marrakech

Day 2: March 8
We made our way out of our room in time for breakfast, thank goodness. The bf likes to sleep until the middle of the afternoon if he doesn't have to work. I, on the other hand, am always awake by 7 or 8am naturally. I had delicious msemen drizzled in honey, which is kind of like Native American fry bread. There was a woman making omelets outside, and we ate under the umbrella of a table in the sun. It was lovely, and very peaceful. Afterwards, we caught the shuttle bus to the medina. Upon arrival, we hopped out, in search of an ATM and currency exchange bureau. We were bombarded by five locals instead. They asked us what we were looking for, if we wanted a tour on foot, or if we wanted a taxi. It was so overwhelming. We pushed through, shouting “no thanks” over our shoulders. After sorting out money issues at the bank, and navigating by map, we ended up at the souks (which we didn’t realize we had actually reached until the next day). We browsed through for a while and dismissed the disrespectful catcalls (I was in an ankle length dress, mind you) and faux tour guides trying to make money. Babe was convinced we were only in the covered market area and hadn’t actually reached the souks, so in spite of my feet aching, he was on a mission. We were still dazzled by trinkets, detailed carpets, baskets, fruits and spices, and clothes in the mean time. I also managed to find the rose buds that look just like the tea I found in Malaysia, but failed to actually articulate what it was I wanted them for to the man who was selling, and I left empty handed and not knowing if I can use them for tea. We stopped to hydrate and cool down with water and a fruit salad topped with ice cream. Continuing the journey from that point led us far away from tourists and close to a school of giggling preteens. A taxi driver was our saviour. We headed back to the hotel for a shower and a nap.

I set up a mini birthday celebration for my boyfriend that evening. The kitchen baked him a cake and sang happy birthday, before we went in to town. Once we reached a street with a couple of posh restaurants, we got out and walked up to a set of outer doors with bouncers. They welcomed us, and once we got to the main entrance, we were unsure if there was some type of event going on. Staff with trays of champagne and chocolates, and single roses were urging me to take one of each. I couldn’t turn down the champagne and chocolates, and the bf picked up a glass as well. We went in, and the place was gorgeous. There was a live band playing mellow music and beautiful women scattered around the multi-level open area. On one level, there were complimentary hors d'oeuvers. We felt uncomfortable, as if we naughtily crashed an event. So, babe decided to ask someone what was going on. The guy said it was “women’s night” which I’m assuming is ladies night. How exciting! Free champagne, chocolate, flowers, and food for ladies night?! The most you’ll get in most other places is half priced drinks and free entry. Incredible. Although it was tempting to stay all night, we left after a short time to have a meal. We walked along and found a restaurant through decorated, hidden doors. The place was dimly lit, which created a sophisticated ambiance. We had to wait 20 minutes to be seated, and filled the time with drinks at the bar. The hostess eventually sat us at a candle lit table next to another couple. We both ordered traditional Moroccan dishes: I had the chicken tajine, and babe (regrettably) had the beef tajine. My bf hated his meal. It was dry and lacked flavor, but mine was decent. The entertainment somewhat made up for the food. Before we got our meal, the lights went down, and a woman in an embellished outfit and a crown of candles on her head came out to some tantric music. Followed by her was belly dancer, after belly dancer going around the tables and even standing on a couple of them for an elevated performance. It was so mesmerizing. We left after we finished our (overly) expensive meal. Back to the hotel for a Bailey’s nightcap.