Mo-rockin’ my World

(sorry for my cheesy title, I couldn’t resist!)

If you read my Seville post, you know that we nearly didn’t make it to Morocco. But I am so, so glad we did. I don’t know when I would get to Morocco otherwise; I had been wanting to visit forever, and since Africa really is just a hop, skip, and a jump (the flight from Seville was less than an hour) from Europe, this was our chance. 
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We were instantly overwhelmed by Marrakech as soon as we stepped off the plane. When the airport shuttle dropped us off in the middle of Jemaa el-Fnaa, the massive market in the middle of Marrakech’s medina (wow, say that 5 times fast!), we were hit with a wave of smells and sounds and colors. People from all different backgrounds were buzzing about, I heard French, Arabic, Spanish, English, and who knows what else, amidst all the shouting of vendors and laughter of people sitting on terraces. I didn’t even take out my camera, I only snapped a few photos on my phone before stopping to just take everything in. 
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These photos don’t capture one-tenth of the craziness and beauty of the market. However, after the day we had had, we were less interested in exploring and more interested in finding our hostel.

Our hostel was tucked into Marrakech’s little streets, inside what must have been a palace or mansion. It. Was. Beautiful. There were huge sitting rooms with massive Moroccan pillows and cushions, a rooftop terrace overlooking the city, and a POOL. 
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But, we had little time to explore, as we hit the hay early. We had an early morning wake up call.

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Marrakech by morning…

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Why did we have to be up so early, you ask? Because we were scheduled….

FOR A CAMEL RIDE.
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This was no ‘ride around a parking lot for ten minutes’ kind of ride, either. This was a 2-hour camel ride through the palm grove and desert outside of Marrakech. It wasn’t through rolling sand dunes, as one might picture, since Marrakech doesn’t immediately hit the Sahara as one imagines it. Nonetheless, we tied on our scarves (to protect from the sun) and were off.
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Representing Zeta in the desert.

Oh my lord camel rides are uncomfortable. Imagine being in a car where the driver keeps braking every 2 seconds while speeding down the highway. Yes, it is incredible and fun and something I may never do again, but just know that you will be sore all over by the next morning. DSC04519 IMG_2093DSC04530 DSC04535 DSC04544 DSC04557

For reference, we booked our tour on Viator in advance. The company arranged for us to be picked up from our hostel along with everyone else on our trip, provided the scarves, and a snack in the middle of the ride. It came out to around 35 euros, which seems expensive, but the ride lasted around 2 hours and you got the full experience. Also, when else are you going to ride a camel??

After our little trek through the grove, we returned to Marrakech for one last look around before heading back to Amsterdam.

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The Koutoubia Mosque.

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I didn’t end up exchanging any money in Marrakech, since we were only there for less than a day and most things were pre-paid for. This was probably a good thing, since who knows how many dirhams I would have spent in the market. Do I need all of those baskets and scarves and silver kettles? No, absolutely not, and I didn’t have any room anyway. I’m much happier returning with a camel ride than a cheap souvenir! 

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