Travel to Marakesh

I decided to walk to Supratour and, as usual with me and just like my Dad, I left plenty of time. I am usually punctual or early. I left the hotel and headed off in the wrong direction but when I saw one of the Mosques I had visited earlier, I knew to turn around. I got the the Supratour really early, and good thing, the office in Agadir is not where the busses depart from, so I had to take a taxi to the station.

It takes 3.5 hours to get to Marakesh from Agadir on the bus. Waiting at the station, I was huddled in the shade because the sun was so hot. Here in Marakesh, though, it is cool and RAINING AGAIN and so I am under the nice war covers writing and wondering about what to do. So many of the sites here are outdoors and I just hate getting wet. Because of the rain, the hotel internet is not working so I cannot access Google maps and resources as I had planned to do. Hmmmmmm..... Hamam?!....

Things to note: I may have had a taste of the future in Agadir. The water taps on the sink do not stay on. if you turn them on, they slowly go off unless you hold it on. And when you flush the toilet, it is a minuscule amount of water that flushes unless you sit. If you sit, there is a big flush, but if you stand, it's super weak. There are not two flushers either, the seat activates the big flush.

Seeing the Atlas mountains, white w it's snow on top, was a thrill because they are hugely majestic, but they rise up out of desert—barren, pebbly wasteland, but lovely just the same because of the difference from our coniferous jungle.

I couldn't take imprisoning myself in this room; I was sliding into a really bad mood—crappy shower, no chair, no view, NOISY and no amenities; this is a big change from the Daddy hotel. And may I repeat this: RAIN! But the rain stopped at about 3:30, so out I went and wham—this hotel is in a GREAT location. Right across the street is a garden (gardens are my churches) and the Djelaa El-Fna (DEF) is a three-minute walk from the front door. Five minutes away is the famous Bab Agnaou entrance to the Kasbah—yes, the Kasbah. I can't believe that I finally got here. (Thank you Bruce and Marsha for getting my mojo going!)

Forgive me, but the famous DEF is the original mall. It is an extraordinary experience. There are markets in the market. For example, I took a turn and wound up in a small market selling animal heads and skins and live turtles, iguana-like things, hawks and other birds. I felt sick. At the bus terminal this morning, I had to move to wait in another location because where I had been waiting I had noticed a large charming beetle on its back. I turned it over and realized its rear legs weren't working, so I got some water and poured it where he could find it and gave him the shade of a styrofoam cup. But he kept following the wall and my heart was breaking, so I moved. You can imagine how the animal heads and imprisoned beauties made me feel.

Lesson Learned: these vendors are slick. When I took a photo of some sweets, the vendor gave me a few to taste that were delicious. So I said I'd take some. Bad move! I am so damn shy and timid in so many situations... OK, I paid $25 for a huge box of them, and not even the good ones. Suckah! I felt stupid and like an amateur traveler. What to do? I headed into the DEF and voila, there was a woman begging with three really young rather dirty children. She saw me coming and came at me as I expected she would, and I handed her the box of Moroccan pastries. She took it like it was intended for her and I felt great.

I am here for three days. It is bound to get sunny for some of the time. I can hardly wait to see the FED in sunlight—the colors will intensify and so will my mood. There are a zillion interesting restaurants in the quartier, so that excites me.

7:00 pm... Okay, I am a cultural pariah. I went downstairs and asked about the Mosque next door. I thought I would ask if the amplified chanting went all night too. It has been going on and off the whole time I have been here. In India, I learned to ask at every hotel I approached if there was a wedding park close because if there was, I wouldn't stay there. The noise was infernal. The Mosque always broadcasts a call to prayer at about 5:30 am. I can take that, but not a night of noise like that which has been going on all the time I am here in my room.

I couldn't love an object more than this iPad. The profile of Steve jobs in the New Yorker (that I keep up with via my iPad subscriber app) by Malcolm Gladwell reveals that Jobs was a jerk—a genius, but a complete jerk. But he produced the most incredible devices. This iPad, as I say, I love. And I listen to podcasts on my tiny Nano on the bus.

Another lesson learned: no restaurants serve Pastilla (or Bisteeya, or any number of other spellings) that i have found. It is made with squab and I would love to try it even though I have been trying to stick to veggie meals (which ain't easy here). I've been living on vegetable couscous and vegetable tangine. I'm ready for one meal of meat if it can be something as exotic as Pastilla.

Back in the DEF at night in drizzling rain, I am gobsmacked by the incredible amount of "pick up" restaurants there are in the square, and they are really popular. They are numbered; some are empty and one has a thick of people around it waiting for someone to leave so that they can have a place. Each has an incredible variety of dishes, and you order tapas style. Each dish comes on its own small plate.i am definitely going to try this style of eating, but not tonight in the rain.

Bingo! Decent restaurant, beautifully situated and I am sitting under one of those gas heaters nice and warm... And they have Pastilla!

"Canadian" he said. And I answered yes. He introduced himself and was quite straight forward: could he buy me a drink for the opportunity to speak English. OK, I said, and as we headed to the bar, I asked, "Why me, there are plenty of tourists around?" he said I looked interesting. And for a while, he was interesting, and then he gave himself away. Did I wasn't a massage? My friend Leslie said this would happen; it happens in lots of places and I am not stupid, so I bid him adieu. Within minutes, another man. Had offered me a woman with a nice soft belly. Am I in a bad movie? I kept walking. He caught up. A girl maybe, a young girl? It is nighttime on the DEF. I am about to eat my Pastilla at 9:30 pm.

The Pastilla was dreadful. The only thing good about it was that it was a small serving. I feel ripped off. Kelly Strahan: your Pastille was to die for. This dish I ate tonight is an insult to what you served. Such a drag, and $25. Damn!