It's amazing what a difference a few hours can make in Marrakech...



Eventually, you must just dive into the souks.



"Monsieur! Madam! Pardon! Just for looking!"





The experience is both spicy...



...and sweet.



It's hard to see from just glancing at the photos, but the sweets stalls were actually swarming with bees. You can kind of see them if you click the photo below to see the full resolution. Look closely around the green pastries in the middle of the photo.





And, of course, I wasn't able to resist that last display. I love a good glass of orange juice!

Moroccan Mayhem!

"Hey, where you from?"

Memories of Egypt flooded back as the Morrocan shopkeeper came running up to us. "I like your hat, ha haaa!... how much did you pay?"

"It was free. I got it from my school."

He seemed confused by this. "How much?" he asked again. But the hat wasn't for sale. I had nearly lost it in the Atlantic just under an hour before, when a breeze lifted it off my head, sent it over the city ramparts and down into the Essaouira harbour. I had to climb past some pretty potent-smelling fishing boats to retrieve it, and was not willing to part with it just now. Either way, he had worked his opening.

"Please, come inside. I will show you something special. Just for looking." He led us into his shop, parted a curtain and led us into the inner sanctum.

After inviting us to sit, he crossed his own legs on the floor. He pulled a rug off of a wooden chest in the corner and lay it between us. "This is my family store. And this is my treasure box," he said as he ran his hand over the chest. He tenderly undid the latch and revealed the small wooden boxes and cloth sachets hidden inside.

Untying one of the sacks, we caught a glimpse of silver and precious stones. "This is Tuareg. From the Sahara." He continued to show us other jewellery as he chatted us up. "Are you in Essaouira long?"

"Just for the day. We´re staying in Marrakech."

"Marrakech! Man, that´s a craaazy city. We call it the New York of Morocco, ha haaa!"

We enjoyed his company and his stories, but unfortunately not any of his jewellery. He thanked him very nicely and got up to leave. He continued to ask us if we need anything else, but nothing really caught our fancy.

At this point, his friend came in. Dressed in a long blue galabiya and a huge white turban, he caught us on the way out. "Hey man! I like your glasses! Can I see them?"

I figured why not. He took them with care when I passed them to him. "Rayban?" he asked me.

"No," I laughed. I think I got them for about $5 at a Shoppers Drug Mart a few years back.

He placed them on his face. "Oooooh, I like them. What do you think about trade? You know, swapping? You give me the glasses, and I give you a turban?"

We were having so much fun with the whole experience, I had no problem whatsoever agreeing to this offer. So he pulled a nice blue material from a shelf and proceeded to wrap it around my head.



I must admit that the glasses suited him better than the turban did me, but the accompanying story made me feel like I got a fair trade.

Chillaxing in Marrakech:

"So, do you guys want to check out the market stalls?"

"Yes!" the reply came back quickly and decisively. Apparently Sarah's a fan of fresh food markets.

We had met up with Sarah and Herve, two of Monika's labmates who were also in Spain for a different conference, the night before in Barcelona. At this point, Herve was already on his way to San Sebastian, but Sarah had a free day and decided to join us on a day trip to Montserrat (a medieval monastery built amidst an oddly jagged group of mountains northwest of the city).



After a couple free samples, we ended up getting a nice piece of sheep's cheese from one of the stalls. We broke it into smaller bits for sharing, but it turned out to be a little too strong tasting for just eating on its own.

"I've got some bread," I offered.

Sarah chuckled at this. "Man, what else do you guys have in that backpack?" She had already seen spare batteries and toilet paper emerge from its depths when the relevant needs had arisen. "You guys are so prepared."

She was being generous, though. Despite having batteries, bread, and TP, we had neglected to pack something crucial: warm clothes. We had picked Montserrat as the destination of our day trip just before leaving our hostel, and we didn't check to find out that it was about 12 degC up in the mountains. I was probably worst off out of the three of us; having not listened to my wife, I didn't even have a sweater.

We stepped into a cafeteria/giftshop in order to warm up. There we managed to find some monastery spirits for sale. Tastings were only 1 Euro!



Our courage restored, we ventured higher into the mountains to check out the views. The vistas of the unique landscape inspired Monika to take some photos. "Hey Chris - don't laugh Sarah - did you bring the tripod?"

"What?" Sarah reacted, increasingly incredulous.

I took out the tripod and extended the telescopic legs for dramatic effect.



The rocks themselved looked like wet sand that had been sculpted into fanciful, and sometimes familiar-looking, shapes. We took a couple shots of me imitating the rocks we thought looked like a gladiator and monkey-face, respectively.





After spending a few more minutes looking around, Monika was hoping to get a closer look at some of the rock formations. "Chris, did you pack the binoculars today?"

"Of course."

At that, Sarah lost it.

Barcelona = Gaudi