market maze

All I was thinking about on our way to Marrakech was the pits of chemicals and shit that Amy fell into (around 17:19) a few years ago. Mainly because that was around when the frands were brought together.

I was a little worried one day in Marrakech would not be enough time. But then I learned that we were leaving on the last day of Ramadan, so everything would be closed anyways. So my antsy travel energy wanted me to be exploring every nook and cranny despite the sweltering heat. Despite the fact that our hotel room had adequate and reliable AC. And in those kinds of humid and hot conditions, the last thing I would ever want is ice cream... but something about a Twix McFlurry sounded so damn good.

So yes, the first thing I ate in Marrakech was Mickey D's.
But the next thing was fresh watermelon juice from one of the many juice stands heckling us for our business. I'm not sure how you're supposed to choose. Or how they're supposed to compete for our attention. We ended up at stall #24.

The winding markets were just as I imagined. Except at first, they seemed smaller. We kept ending up back on the open common square where we started. I was like, "This isn't that confusing." But then it got frustrating when I was convinced there was more to see and for whatever reason, I couldn't get there to see it all. I was most disappointed to not find mechoui alley (even though it was probably going to be deserted for Ramadan).

We wandered until the heat became too overwhelming and my feet hurt and we turned back to the hotel to decompress. And after dipping my feet in the pool and journaling a bit, I was itching and hungry (literally) to head back to the market.

All the food stalls were out as the sun set. More than stalls, they were like picnic tables under tents. All selling the same stuff again. All heckling us for our business. I just wanted a sheep's head.

Issmail already had a stall number in mind as he led us through the other vendors, all grabbing at him and trying to corner him to their own stalls. 

We got bread and apps. And a plate of unidentifiable sheep's head parts.

And Dad bought a box of sweets from the sweets cart.

And assorted skewers.

And a little bowl of steamed snails that I tired to get Audrey to try.

But she was only interested in fishing them out of their shell for me.

And after we were stuffed and ready to pass the fuck out, we also got some peeled-to-order prickly pears.

The most Moroccan thing during this trip, though, was befriending this stray kitten in the airport on our way to Barca.