Tuesday, March 26, 2002 19:44
Weather: Cooler, high clouds
Location: Restaurant of Hotel Ibis, Marrakesh

I'm in the restaurant of the big hotel next to the train station. Coincidentally, it's the same hotel I came to Sunday afternoon with Robin, Chloe, Alison & Bob, to swim in their pool. Now, I'm going to eat a light dinner before my train, which leaves in an hour and a quarter. I'm not really hungry, but this is my last chance for a Moroccan dinner and I don't want to be hungry on the train.

The soundtrack on the restaurant's stereo is rather repetitive. That is to say, including the time I sat in the bar outside waiting for the the restaurant to open, I have now been listening to Phil Collins sing "Another Day in Paradise" for 45 minutes straight. This seems heavy-handed to me, but none of the other guests show any sign of having noticed the repetition, let alone the irony of the musical selection.

Essaouira was blanketed in a fog all day today. I had hoped to spend the morning on the beach, but it was much smaller with the tide in, and the water would have been quite cold without the sun. So instead, I bought, wrote and mailed some postcards, had a nice breakfast, packed my bags, and waited for the English foursome to wake up. They weren't up by 9:30, so I spent an hour on the Internet. Robin and Chloe came out at about 11:15, and I moved my bags into their room. Bob and Alison came down at noon. I had lunch as they had breakfast.

Disappointed by the fog, we went for a ramble around the medina. It was a slow walk, with frequent stops to visit the shops. After a little while, we left the tourist-oriented area (carpets, postcards, glazed pottery, woodwork) and got to the real medina (fresh fish, piles of spices, chains of figs, shoes, vegetables, mosques, hammams). On the way back we wandered down a dark alley and came out into a shop-lined atrium. The spice sellers here had sculpted their wares into precarious pyramids, a feast for the eyes and the nose.

We continued on and eventually came to the northern ramparts of the town, lined with cannons. The battlements and towers seemed very safe from attack from the sea beyond: waves crashed high over jagged rocks and spilled down sharp drain holes, surely fearsome enough to wreck any approaching boats. We sat and watched the waves relentlessly throw themselves against the shore.

Returning to the hotel, we passed through the square by the harbour one last time. I went up to change from my shorts into trousers for travel, and brought down my bags. Then I joined the others for a final couple of games of cards. Finally, I said goodbye and walked to the Supratours office to catch my bus.

Onboard the bus, I sat next to a French lady. We chatted the whole way back to Marrakesh. She had been in Morocco for a 10 day inter-parliamentary conference, and had taken a couple of days extra to visit Essaouira. She told me that fogs are quite common there, and indeed, the fog seemed to stop sharply at the city limits as we climbed a low hill inland. She listed with interest to my travel plans -- she will be retiring in August and plans to travel around the Mediterranean, and around the world. When we arrived in Marrakesh she gave me her business card and invited me to call on her the next time I passed through Paris.

The Supratours bus dropped us at their depot in Marrakesh, right next door to the train station. I went in and went to a ticket counter to reserve a couchette. Disaster: they were all spoken for, and I faced a night bumping along in the regular seats. As I walked out of the station, though, it occurred to me to see if I might downgrade to 2nd class and secure a couchette there, so I went back to the counter.

This time, the agent took pity on me. One couchette had been verbally reserved, but the man in question had gone away without actually paying for the reservation. I had my place, and it was time to go to the hotel next door for dinner.

Dinner is now finished, a lovely lamb brochette with fresh mint, rice and vegetables. Time for the train.
posted by Tom at 8:34 PM | link |