Morocco's King Mohammed VI, Our Next Door Neighbor

Last week our next door neighbor in Marrakech moved back into his place. He has homes all over Morocco and goes from one set of digs to another. There seem to be two or three just in Marrakech. He was here a couple weeks ago for the Marrakech Film Festival and I'm not sure why he's back so soon. I don't expect to see him-- other than on TV-- and I only knew he was back because of the huge number of heavily armed troops on every street and alleyway in Sidi Mimoun, our quiet little neighborhood. I had just been reading about him, thanks to Wikileaks.

You probably know me as a critic of conservatives but if you want to see me really get going, just start talking about monarchy. One of the highlights of the month was the video I saw of British students attacking the limousine of Queen Elizabeth's reactionary son-- purportedly the next so-called "king" of England-- and the ho he's shacking up with. The students were chanting "off with their heads," music to my ears.

But these immensely wealthy and powerful royal families are extremely committed to holding onto their positions at the tip-top of society-- and extremely dangerous. My friend Toon arrived in Marrakech a few days ago and he happened to tell me about how the journalists involved in the exposure of Prince Bernhard of Lippe-Biesterfeld as a Nazi were ruined and professionally destroyed. Bernhard, like England's weak-minded King Edward VIII, was a Nazi who conspired, in Edward's case, at the urging of his American Nazi wife, Wallace Simpson, with Hitler to bring fascism to his country.

[W]ith a belligerent new leader in Berlin threatening to rip up the Treaty of Versailles, those [Nazi] sympathies posed a serious problem-- particularly when King George V died in January 1936. Edward inherited the throne as a hugely popular new king-- and set about meddling in government policy. This was in defiance of all convention but that didn’t stop Edward. He took to calling the ­German ambassador directly-- a clear breach of constitutional protocol and one with serious practical consequences.

When Hitler made it clear he meant to send his forces back into the demilitarised Rhineland the government expressed its opposition. Edward should have stepped back. Instead he threatened to abdicate if Hitler’s advance was stopped, compounding the harm by phoning the German ambassador to tell him he had done so.

“The reassurances from Edward that Britain wasn’t going to fight were crucial,” says Professor Jonathan Petropoulos, author of Royals And The Reich. “Hitler had an ace in the hole, as we would say in American poker, knowing what he did from Edward at the time.”

In that context the abdication at the end of 1936 came as a godsend to the government. But even off the throne the Duke of Windsor posed an ongoing problem.

The FBI files show that at a party in Vienna in June 1937-- the month he married Mrs Simpson-- the loose-tongued Duke told an Italian ­diplomat that the Americans had cracked Italy’s intelligence codes.Four months later the Duke and Duchess paid a high-profile visit to Germany where the Nazi regime fawned on him. They met Hitler, who saw the value of ­cultivating an ally once so intimately involved with British affairs. Nazi propaganda chief Joseph Goebbels wrote of the Duke: “It’s a shame he is no longer king. With him we would have entered into an alliance.”

Even the declaration of war was not enough to make the Duke sever his Nazi connections. He was made a major-general and stationed in France but he continued to ­communicate with the enemy. In January 1940 the German minister in The Hague wrote that he had established a direct line of contact to the Duke.

This line of contact proved crucial to the tragic fate of France. From the Duke the Germans learned that their plans for the invasion of France had fallen into Allied hands. This intelligence allowed Hitler to change his plans and catch the Allies by surprise. France fell.

The FBI papers also reveal that the Duchess of Windsor was in ­regular contact with the Nazi foreign minister Joachim von Ribbentrop, whom the Americans suspected of being her former lover. After the fall of Paris she and the Duke hopped from Biarritz to Madrid to Lisbon, shamelessly consorting with wealthy fascist sympathisers.

In Portugal Edward committed what may have been the worst act of his shabby career. In July 1940 the German ambassador in Lisbon passed a message to Berlin saying: “The Duke believes with certainty that continued heavy bombing would make England ready for peace.”

The former king was urging the bombardment of his own people.

Prime Minister Winston Churchill understood the danger he posed and was desperate to get him back to Britain, at one stage threatening him with court martial if he refused. In the end sending him to govern the Bahamas-- a humiliating posting which both the Duke and Duchess detested-- proved the most viable option.

But as Fulton Oursler was to discover the former king continued to plot from the governor’s mansion in Nassau, driven by a combination of his own Nazi sympathies and his belief that a strong Hitler could help him back to the British throne.

Shortly after he took up the post the Duke told one confidant: “After the war is over and Hitler has crushed the Americans we’ll take over. The British don’t want me as king but I’ll be back as their leader.”

Bernhard's p.r. machine always went to great lengths to portray him as a war hero and anti-Nazi fighter. But it was long whispered in Holland that the husband of one queen and the father of another, was a filthy Nazi traitor, member of the SS, and a member of the Nazi Party just before he married Crown Princess Juliana.

Back to my neighbor, Mohammed VI. He wasn't even born until 1963, long after Hitler killed himself. He became king in 1999 when his father Hassan II died and everyone says he's far more popular than his father. He inherited at least $2 billion but is said to have a piece on almost everything in the country. I have no way of knowing if that's true or not but I did notice another Wikileaks document that tarnishes Mohammed's patina pretty disastrously. Seems one of the things he has "a piece" of is his country's narcotics trafficking.

For the first time a U.S. official document speaks of the involvement of Morocco in matters of drug trafficking, citing officials of the Moroccan police working at Casablanca airport, who have been sanctioned in mid-August 2009 after they had arrested the son of the Senegalese president and the son of a Minister of the same country for drug possession.

• According to the report, King Mohammed VI had not appreciated the arrest of president's son and a Senegalese minister’s son without his knowledge and without prior consultation. The two Senegalese were released later and the police officers punished.

• The report also quotes an official of the Moroccan police in Casablanca, who was mutilated in the occupied city of Laayoune after he had implicitly accused the regime of being behind the drug mafia.

• Another report published by Wikileaks dated 2008 talks about the corruption that plagues the Moroccan army, especially among senior officials of the military institution. It says "the Moroccan army suffers from corruption, bureaucracy, lower educational level of officers and the continued threat of extremism of some elements." It added that "the head of the gendarmerie, General Hasni Ben Slimane "allegedly involved in corruption cases."

• Corruption, the report said, plagues the top military hierarchy in Morocco and General Benani turned into "a Baron of milk." the latter, taking advantage of his position as army chief in the occupied Western Sahara, manipulated markets to supply the army in milk, thereby making a fortune in billions of dollars, in addition to his involvement with other generals in doubtful markets of fishing permits on the coast of Western Sahara. He managed well, the report said, to build a palace for his family with money of corruption.

• Corruption also affects the officers who, to qualify for promotions, pay bribes to their leaders.

The Guardian reported earlier this month that the king's holding company, Omnium Nord Africain (ONA), "extracts bribes and concessions from real estate developers," something that no one familiar with Morocco would be surprised to hear.

Morocco's royal family is using the institutions of the state to "coerce and solicit bribes" in the country's lucrative real estate sector, according to a leaked report from American diplomats.

Information about high-level corruption involving the rulers of Washington's closest ally in north Africa was brought to the attention of the US consulate in Casablanca, Morocco's commercial capital, by a businessman in 2009, leading diplomats to describe "the appalling greed" of those close to King Mohammed VI.

According to the US report, decisions involving Omnium Nord Africain (ONA), a holding company owned by the king, are made only by the king and two of his powerful associates. "To have discussions with anyone else would be a waste of time," the head of the company is quoted as saying.

Royal involvement in business is a hot topic in Morocco but public discussion of it is sensitive. The US embassy in Rabat reported to Washington in a separate cable that "corruption is prevalent at all levels of Moroccan society."

Mohammed, who succeeded his father, Hassan, in 1999, is said to have cleaned up the royal family's act, but it appears he has not done enough.

"While corrupt practices existed during the reign of King Hassan II … they have become much more institutionalised with King Mohammed VI," one cable quotes a businessman as saying. Institutions such as ONA-- Morocco's largest conglomerate, which clears most large development projects – regularly coerced developers into granting beneficial rights to ONA, the businessman was quoted as saying.

I should add that almost every Moroccan I've spoken to says Mohammed VI is way better than his father, Hassan II, and that he's doing a lot for Morocco, even if he's also doing a lot for the family business. One guy I met even told me he can't blame the king for undermining Morocco's educational system-- illiteracy is still gigantic-- because how would anyone expect a monarchy to hand on to power if the populace was well educated.

Live Blogging Marrakesh, Morocco-- Riads... And Miswak Toothpaste

Several people have e-mailed asking me what a riad is. It actually describes the type of building. A riad to my understanding is a building featuring a central open courtyard that includes a garden, usually a water feature, like a fountain or pool, with rooms surrounding it. In Marrakesh the last decade or so has seen a rush to buy up dilapidated old riads, fix them up and use them as either homes or as a kind of bed-and-breakfast. In either case, they're an alternative to hotel living.

We rented a whole home (described here), while our friends, Toon and Mieke from Amsterdam, first rented a room in a large riad (for 22 guests) and have now moved into a smaller, more homey riad in our neighborhood that takes 5 guests.

Another Restaurant We Tried

Terrasse des épices is a chic restaurant in the souk Cherifia (#15), with a cool vibe and decent food, mixed European and Moroccan but without the overdone Moroccan feast aspect. The prices are moderate and the setting-- on the roof-- is very pleasant and relaxed.

To be honest, I'm always drawn back to Al Fassia, clearly the best food and most convivial vibe in the city. We ate there again tonight and it was as delicious as ever. And since they all know us there now, they send over extra goodies. We made another reservation for next week to when our last two friends to arrive, Helen and Michael, will be here.

Tip For The Day

Down the street (Avenue el-Fetouaki) from Toon and Mieke's first riad, Bahia Salam, there's a kind of health food store at #91-- Marrakesh Bio Diététique-- selling a variety on decent products. Now that governments and airlines have decided the key to our safety is to make sure we don't carry enough toothpaste for more than a week, it's important to know where to get the Moroccan equivalent of Tom's of Maine type products. This is the place. I found some great herbal toothpaste, about as good as anything Whole Foods carries and very inexpensive. Actually the toothpaste, Miswak, is made in the United Arab Emirates. I've been liking it so much that I looked it up on wikipedia. It's made from the teeth cleaning twig (miswak) of the Salvadora persica tree, also known as the arak tree or the peelu tree and features in Islamic hygienical jurisprudence.

A 2003 scientific study comparing the use of miswak with ordinary toothbrushes concluded that the results clearly were in favor of the users who had been using the miswaak... Studies indicate that Salvadora persica extract is somewhat comparable to other oral disinfectants and anti-plaque agents like Triclosan and Chlorhexidine Gluconate if used at a very high concentration... In addition to strengthening the gums, preventing tooth decay and eliminating toothaches, the miswak is also said to halt further increase in decay that has already set in. Furthermore, it is said to create a fragrance in the mouth, eliminate bad breath, improve the sense of taste and cause the teeth to glow and shine.

In addition, benefits not related to the teeth and gums include sharpening memory, curing headaches, creating a glow on the face of the one who continually uses it, strengthening the eyesight, assisting in digestion and clearing the voice.

Sybaritic Night Life? Here?

The other day Roland was trolling around his Lonely Planet and mentioned there's a disco in Guerliz (the new town) that's supposed to be the biggest disco in North Africa. And I'm sure that's an attraction for someone... somewhere. I think today's NY Times must have thought so too. They did one of their 36 Hours In Marrakesh features. It barely sounds like the city I've been to a dozen or so times since 1969 or the one I've been living in for the past couple weeks.

In 1939, George Orwell wrote of Westerners flocking to Marrakesh in search of “camels, castles, palm-trees, Foreign Legionnaires, brass trays and bandits.” Ever since, the city has been ravishing visitors with its teeming souks, ornate palaces and sybaritic night life. In recent years, a succession of high-end openings and restorations-- most notably, the lavish reopening of the hotel La Mamounia-- has transformed the city into an obligatory stop for jet-setters. Yet despite Marrakesh’s new cachet, the true treasures of the enigmatic city still hide down dusty side streets and behind sagging storefronts.

The Jemaa scene usually starts packing up by 10 or 11pm and, unless I'm blogging, I'm in bed by midnight. So maybe I'm just sleeping through the sybaritic nightlife and really missing out on what draws at certain set of people to Marrakesh.

Another Side Of Riad Livin' In Marrakesh

Adrienne's riad

I'm a big proponent of breaking free from hotel travel and, where possible, renting a villa or an apartment when visiting foreign destinations. It worked out mostly well in Buenos Aires, fabulously well in Phuket, Bali, Rome, San Miguel de Allende...

There are several reasons I prefer to rent my own place rather than stay in a hotel. Three years ago I wrote about it (in the first link on this post).

Aside from getting a sense of belonging to a culture that most hotel guests can never experience, there are some tangible reasons I like to get my own place. I don't eat junk food and I take breakfast seriously. Even in NYC, where I do stay in a hotel, I always get one with a kitchenette. That way I can stock up on healthy goodies (fruits, nuts, etc) and on breakfast goods (blueberries, melons, papayas, lemons...) and have a place to store them and prepare them conveniently. It is virtually always much less expensive to rent your own place than to stay in a hotel. And it's far more personal.

Marrakesh is a perfect place for renting a house-- a riad-- and they have a whole tourism sector around the idea. Scores of beautiful old town houses have been renovated and updated either as beds-and-breakfasts or as houses rentable by a single party. I'm writing today, in fact, from the sitting room of the 4 bedroom riad I rented for most of December here in Marrakesh. I wrote a bit about the specific details of this place last week when I first got here.

But there's another side of the coin as well, which makes this style of travel not appropriate for everyone. I certainly love the feeling on being integrated, even if just a little, into the rhythm of life in a small neighborhood. After a week, everyone I pass in the alleyways says hello to me and I'm already friends with all the small children. That's the good part. But my Arabic is not great and my French isn't that much better so it isn't easy to communicate beyond the basics. And in an old place like this... well, things can go wrong.

Las night the electricity went down. It was an all night drama and it didn't get fixed 'til late this morning. If something like that happened in a hotel, the hotel management would take care of it. The housekeeper and her son were very helpful in this case, but I had to oversee the whole thing myself.

As I mentioned when I was in a villa on Bali, a friend felt our luxurious place was like "camping out" and she checked into a 5-star hotel after a few days. She almost came along on this trip. I think she'd be around the corner at the Mamounia by now-- even if it does cost around $700/day for the most modest accommodation they have. There's nothing of the real world they have to worry about in a place like that; everything gets taken care of and you're just there to have a vacation. I like to travel to live my life in different environments. It's somewhat different from a vacation. But not for everybody.

Today's Tip:

The best place I've found to change cash is the money-changer booth at the front of the Hotel Ali. It's right off the Jemaa el Fna. He consistently has a slightly better rate than anyone else in town and charges no commission. It's a much better deal than you'll get at any banks, although perhaps an ATM is better yet. (I don't know.) My friend Melody arrived with travelers checks and the rate for them isn't great and most places don't want them. Hotel Ali will take 'em but only if you have a receipt. The bank next door wouldn't take them at all but they recommended another hotel money changer- Taza-- and they gave her a so-so rate and charged a 15 dirham commission per check. Better to bring cash.It wasn't a great difference. $500 in cash dollars at the Hotel Ali brought just over 4,150 dirhams. The same amount in 5 travelers checks at Taza brought 4,025 dirhams-- a difference of 125 dirhams ($15.60).

Marrakesh, Day 7 or 8... Losing Track Of Time

The other day I mentioned how new travel vistas had been opening for me because of Lisa's feminine influence. This trip hasn't had much in common with the sojourn Roland and I took last year into the back country of Mali. On the other hand, Lisa's interest in some of Marrakesh's great sites aren't related to her gender. Roland just hates going into any museums, monuments or "sites." He just likes to live the life. I only insist when it's essential-- like the Prado in Madrid or the underground cities in Cappadocia. But this week I'm seeing everything-- all the monuments I've been passing by for decades without ever bothering to go in to see. And am I glad I'm getting a chance to. Like I mentioned last time, the Ben Youssuf Madrassa is something I passed by dozens of times and never went into. And it's spectacular and SO worth a stop. Yesterday there was another one like that we just stumbled on, El Bahia Palace, near the Mella, the old Jewish quarter:



The palace is gargantuan and kind of gaudy, built by a rich asshole to impress his buddies in the 1800s. It's like a Moroccan version of Versailles. According to wikipedia, "The structures tell a lot about the taste of the nouveau-riche of its time, and can appear vulgar to modern tastes. It was intended to become the greatest palace of its time, but it is really dominated by hasty planning as well as uninspired detail work. This doesn't make the palace less worth visiting, it is a monument of its time, and served even as the residence of the French resident general, [Resident-General Louis Hubert Gonzalve] Lyautey."

And then we headed into the Mella... well almost. Just before the gate to the Mella we found a gorgeous shop, Atelier El Bahia, again, something I would never have walked into. But Lisa saw the pillows, bedspreads, scarves, shawls, the huge looms... and in we went. Even I bought something! After wandering around in the souks all week we were happy to see displays of all top quality stuff. The prices were fixed-- strange for Morocco-- but not nearly as high as what they ask for for far shoddier goods in the souks. Address is 24 Rue des Dommaine, Bahia. And then into the Mella where we actually found the still functioning synogogue! The caretaker showed us around and it was far more alive than the synagogue I visited in Yangon, which never had as thriving a Jewish community as Marrakesh once did. Now, I hear there are about 250 Jews left in the Mella.

Afterwards it was back to Atelier El Bahia because Lisa remembered all those colorful pillow cases would be perfect for the ultimate Marrakesh red and black bedspread she had bought-- and then on to the Place des Ferblantlers, where craftsmen are making metal goods. Lisa immediately sensed out the best shop in the area, El Abdi Abdeljabbar's L'Art Marocain. He's got everything in there but the main thing are high end light fixtures, including some he bought at the auction when the Mamounia closed down for a couple years to renovate and sold everything. Lisa now has a piece of Mamounia history for her patio.

We ended the day by going for dinner at Dar Zellij, one of my favorite old Marrakesh dining palaces. One of the things I like best about Zellij is that they don't try to force you to order a huge feast like most of the Moroccan palace restaurants do. We satisfied ourselves with an 8-plate salad and fish tagines. No couscous course, no harira course, no pastilla course, no dessert. And this isn't a belly dancer kind of place. The food was great and the service impeccable. The place, a restored 17th century riad, is breathtaking. And the price was high but not outrageous, especially if you skip the fixed price dinners. And it's always great wandering around the Medina looking for places. God knows how many times we got lost. All part of the fun.

Marrakesh, Day 6

Where does the time go? Sorry about the inattentiveness. Let me see if I can catchup a little. First off, for everyone who has been e-mailing about how to rent the riad we're staying in, I met an Englishwoman online, Adrienne, who lives here in Marrakesh and rents out riads, her own (one of which is pictured above) and riads owned by other Europeans who just use them from time to time for vacations. Adrienne's website is www.le-riad-a-marrakech.com/ and you can contact her through that. I started talking about this place with her last May and she was very attentive all the way through. In fact, she was just up here-- she lives up the road across from the riad owned by Bernard-Henri Lévy and just beyond that of IMF head (and perhaps the next President of France), Dominique Strauss-Kahn, another Obama-like Conservative Consensus candidate posing as a champion of ordinary families. She gave us some great tips on some specialized souks outside of the grand souk area where we might be able to get better buys on some stuff. Anyway... she'll take good care of you.

It's funny being here in Marrakesh with a woman, Lisa, instead of just me and Roland (who arrives next week). The first time I came to Morocco was with my girlfriend and it was a very different Morocco in terms of women-- very backward in attitude and not really a pleasant or even safe place for women. Forty years ago Moroccan men were still not entirely used to seeing uncovered women wandering around and awkward situations were very common. That's pretty much over, especially in cosmopolitan Marrakesh, where government policies to drag the traditional culture into the modern worked-- on top of the overflow of tourism and globalization-- and have helped cause a noticeable change in attitude among Moroccans towards women-- their own and those from overseas. It's way more comfortable being a woman in Morocco that it used to be-- and more comfortable and relaxed traveling with a woman.

But what I was getting at was something else entirely. I find myself doing different things with Lisa than I would be normally doing, especially with Roland, Example: two days ago we spent the afternoon at the beautiful urban park Yves Saint Laurent found and revamped, Jardin Majorelle. It was very peaceful, very tranquil... but not something guys usually do unless a woman drags them in that direction. Eveyone there was a woman or men with women. I didn't go quite as far as accompanying her inside the museum dedicated to Yves Saint Laurent's designs, but just sat outside and enjoyed the fresh air and the beautiful juxtaposition of bamboo and cactus gardens.


And yesterday we did something even more markedly "feminine," a morning at the baths. Actually, Roland and I once went to the hammam at the then fabulous, now... well, now it's a dreadful, pretentious and impersonal Sofitel... Palais Jamaï. We went for the hammam experience of being rubbed all over with a brillo-like glove, a very manly thing.

A person taking a Turkish bath first relaxes in a room (known as the warm room) that is heated by a continuous flow of hot, dry air allowing the bather to perspire freely. Bathers may then move to an even hotter room (known as the hot room) before splashing themselves with cold water. After performing a full body wash and receiving a massage, bathers finally retire to the cooling-room for a period of relaxation.

I just found an English website that proposes readers create the Moroccan hamman experience in their homes:

• Moroccan black soap-- this soap is made from the kernel of the olive nut and has wonderful exfoliating properties.

• A Moroccan scrubbing mitt called a gome-- this course mitt will effectively remove all your dead skin cells, and increase the circulation in your arms and legs, helping to reduce cellulite.  A very handy glove!

• A Moroccan foot scrub (optional)-- this little terracotta foot scrub will remove hard skin from your heels faster than anything I know.

• Rhassoul-- this wonder clay, mined from deep within the Atlas Mountains, has a list of benefits as long as your arm.  See our article on rhassoul.

• Rose water (optional)-- will make you feel like a Moroccan princess.

• Mint tea

I skipped the princess part but we did while away the hours yesterday at what is reputed to be the most luxurious and pamper-oriented hammam in town, the one at La Sultana, a small gem-like hotel right near the Saadien tombs, which we were planning on visiting anyway. The hamman/spa at La Sultana was really amazing, not inexpensive, but amazing. The bath itself is just shockingly beautiful: a large jacuzzi under 3 vaulted ceilings supported by 8 marble columns with 13 traditional chandeliers. Off that main room are the actual hamman, massage rooms, a sauna, showers, and relaxing rooms. And I was surprised that the masseuse was very competent, well-trained and effective.

No really amazing restaurants to report on other than the wonderful one we had at Al Fassia in Gueliz (the new town), which is as good, if not better, than it was in 2006. Again, let me remind you that if you plan to go, it's essential to make reservations in advance. It's got the best food in town and it's always booked up. We're going back in a few days.

Other than that we ate at some mundane Moroccan restaurants, Le Tanjia for lunch yesterday and Le Marrakchi for dinner. These photos of Le Tanjia say a lot more about the skill of the p.r. firm than about the reality of the restaurant. Le Marrakchi has a great view of the Jemaa el Fna but that's the highlight. Again, nothing wrong with the place but... nothing really to recommend it either-- unless you crave lots of noisy, smoking European tourists squished up against you.

A couple days ago we visited a place I've passed by a dozen times but never went into (I'll blame Roland), the Ben Youssuf Merdera (Madrassa), a 14th century college that really is quite spectacular, one of the best sites in town. It's clustered with the Museum of Marrakech (very nice architecture housed in Dar Menebhi Palace, and less interesting displays, with the exception of two small paintings by Hassan Alaoui; another painting of his, similar in feel, is above, left) and the Almoravid Koubba (some not terribly impressive ruins, although they probably are to archeologists). Ben Youssuf's the play. "It is the largest Medrasa in all of Morocco... Its 130 student dormitory cells cluster around a courtyard richly carved in cedar, marble and stucco. The carvings contain no representation of humans or animals as required by Islam, and consist entirely of inscriptions and geometric patterns. This madrasa was one of the largest theological colleges in North Africa and may have housed as many as 900 students... Closed down in 1960, the building was refurbished and reopened to the public as an historical site in 1982."

A couple blocks away is a highly touted restaurant, Le Foundouk which was better than either Le Tanjia or Le Marrakechi-- and more expensive-- but far from the level of Al Fassia.



UPDATE: Are You Coming To Marrakesh?

Adrienne just told me to offer all AroundTheWorldBlog readers a 10% discount off her regular riad prices for 2011. The website is above and her phone number is 00 212 (0) 71 23 46 28. Just mention you heard about her riad from "Howie's blog."

Marrakesh, Day 2

It's nearly 11 AM now, the middle of our second day in Marrakech. Fatima came at 9 and made breakfast and we're just relaxing before going out for another arduous day of exploring the souks and hidden gardens of Marrakesh.

The riad is superb. Officially there are 4 bedrooms but actually there are 4 bedrooms plus 2 childrens' bedrooms. When you enter, you come to a central courtyard, which is covered by a retractable roof three stories up. The kitchen is there and it's kind of a sitting room/dinner room. Off that is Lisa's suite, the only bedroom on the first floor. The riad has been lovingly restored to a really incredible degree combining modern expectations with traditional North African fantasies. Beautiful tile work, beautiful iron work, incredible fixtures, doorways to die for... Every detail is just wonderful. The neighborhood, Sidi Mimoun, is pretty cool too. Our next door neighbor is Mohammed VI (the king). We were warned by the property manager to refrain from pointing cameras at the palace from our rooftop terrace. On the other side of our riad is Yves St Laurent's riad. To get to our riad off the main street of the neighborhood, you have to go down a couple of alleys where there are no cars. So it's pretty quiet here, other than when the neighborhood children get going with a drum circle.

Anyway, upstairs are the rest of the bedrooms plus a large living room, which I'm using as an office as well. It has a beautiful Moroccan style tiled and brick fireplace-- as well as a more traditional-- actual modern-- heater. It gets up into the 80s in the daytime but down to around 5o at night. The third flight up is the rooftop terrace, although halfway to the top is one of the childrens' bedrooms, the same as any of the other bedrooms except without an en suite bathroom.

Yesterday I took Lisa around to get a feel for the Medina. She loved it and basked in the foreignness and exotic feel. I told her Fes is 10 times more foreign and exotic but she probably thinks I'm exaggerating. I'm not. Marrakech may seem otherworldly but it's very cosmopolitan, with thousands of Europeans living here... and tourists everywhere, and very much being catered to in terms of restaurants and shops. There's even a vegetarian restaurant, Earth Cafe just off the Jemaa el Fna on Riad Zitoun el Kedim. We had a yummy-- albeit salty-- lunch there.

One thing we saw last night that really knocked me for a loop was a first. Morocco was formerly overrun with aggressive touts-- not just persistent pests insisting on being your guide; they still have some of that-- but threatening unemployed young men who made it more than unpleasant for tourists. Eventually-- by the 80s-- the bazaaris, who really run this country "got rid" of them. The very aggressive ones ceased to exist in city after city. It's even safe to walk around Fes now. Roland says it reminds him of Disneyland. Now that's an exaggeration. But last night in the Jemaa el Fna, the main square, we weren't just accosted by the regular assortment of young male touts but, for the first time (for me), two separate female touts! They weren't shy and it just isn't something you would ever expect to see in a Muslim country. You've come a long way, baby! A shopkeeper we met told us the government is even discouraging polygamy, probably more than the Morman cults do.

UPDATE: And Speaking Of The Changing Role Of Women In Moroccan Society

Al Fassia is one of Marrakesh's best restaurants and it's run as a woman's cooperative. We're going to have dinner there tonight. Last time I was in Marrakesh, almost 5 years ago this is what I had to say about it:

The only restaurant in Guéliz (the new city) we went to is the justifiably famous Al Fassia. The 2 unique things about it is that it is entirely run by women and that they revel in the concept of a la carte, never an easy thing for foreigners to find. The food was superb and expensive but not over the moon. And, like many Moroccan eateries, if you give them enough notice, they'll prepare things for you by order. The menu has all the best Moroccan standards and you can pick the ones you want and not have to bother with the ones you don't. It was sold out when we went and they said we'd have to come another time but begging and pleading helped and we were seated in an hour.

Tonight we have a reservation.

Live Blogging Marrakesh, Morocco-- Preparations

December 8, 2010

My old rule of thumb was that the trip starts once the airplane doors shut. But this one started back in May when we booked our tickets (L.A. to London on B.A., London to Marrakesh on Atlas Blue, which has since been fully absorbed by Royal Air Maroc, probably the worst airline servicewise on earth; try calling their 1-800 number a hundred times and see if you ever get through.) In May we also booked a 4 bedroom riad in the old city. I can't wait to see it. And I won't have to much longer. I'm leaving for the airport in about an hour.

I didn't do much to prepare for the trip beyond that stuff-- changed some dollars to Euros so I can pay the balance of the riad, since they prefer that currency rather than dollars or dirham. You don't need shots or visas for Morocco and I've been there over a dozen times so I didn't even get a guide book. And I went to K Mart and bought two pairs of new jeans for $9.97 each. They look awesome and the ones I had are fine for the U.S. but jeans with holes are looked at askance in Morocco. And I went to Nordstrom's outlet store and bought a bunch of really nice boxer-briefs and t-shirts. Last night I spent 2 whole hours sorting my vitamins and supplements into daily dose bags. But this morning I went for my last swim of 2010, my last jacuzzi of 2010 and my last hike in the Los Feliz hills of 2010. I also made sure that the socks I'm wearing for the flight don't have any holes in them. A friend told me that the TSA guys have stopped the junk groping for the holidays. I was kind of looking forward to it in a weird way... you know, to be at one with the zeitgeist or something.

Oh, and I checked the weather. It was in the low 80s every day last week. Here's today's:



UPDATE: All checked in

There were no porno scanner machines anywhere to be seen and no junk gropers. That was much ado about nothing, Some jerk made me take off my belt and hoodie though. Turns out, though, that the B.A. flights to London no longer land at Terminal 4. There's now a Terminal 5, although I'll have to get over to T-4 for the trip to Morocco... after a 7 hour layover. At check-in just now they gave me a brochure for the new T-5. Aside from all kinds of high end shops, like Paul Smith, Harrods, and Prada and a Gordon Ramsey restaurant, they have an amazing arrivals lounge, Galleries, that includes a movie theater, a spa, dining facilities where food is prepared by order and excellent business facilities. I can hardly wait. I just ate a Brazil nut that tasted like rotten fish.

Three Best Restaurants In Marrakesh... I've Got Two

I've always found Morocco so welcoming and so gay-friendly-- but that's only for foreign gays. The homegrown kind, like we saw when we looked at Abdellah Taïa's story last spring, have a much harder time. In fact, a much, much harder time. I'm going to Marrakesh soon and I've been meaning to post about some of my favorite restaurants there and see if I could get some suggestions from other travelers. But then Rachel Maddow pointed to the gruesome news today that Morocco was one of the 79 backward countries in the UN to have voted in the UN to reserve the right to kill gay people just because they're gay. Yes, of course Uganda voted that way too. In fact, scanning through the list it looks like every Muslim country did (other than Bosnia, which voted with the civilized world, and Mauritania, Turkmenistan, Turkey and Kyrgyzstan, which were absent) -- even Oman where the Sultan, Qaboos ibn Sa‘id, is a predatory homosexual (as well as a patricide)-- did.

A new U.N. resolution condemns the arbitrary execution of whole classes of humanity, from street kids to indigenous groups. It was to have included sexual minorities, but a bunch of nations balked at protection for LGBTs. The U.N. General Assembly then approved an amendment that removed them from the list.
The vote was 79-70. Here's the list of countries that wanted to reserve the right to kill the gay:

Afghanistan, Algeria, Angola, Azerbaijan, Bahamas, Bahrain, Bangladesh, Belize, Benin, Botswana, Brunei Dar-Sala, Burkina Faso, Burundi, Cameroon, China, Comoros, Congo, Cote d'Ivoire, Cuba, Democratic People's Republic of Korea, Democratic Republic of Congo, Djibouti, Egypt, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Ghana, Grenada, Guyana, Haiti, Indonesia, Iran, Iraq, Jamaica, Jordan, Kazakhstan, Kenya, Kuwait, Lebanon, Lesotho, Liberia, Libya, Madagascar, Malawi, Malaysia, Maldives, Mali, Morocco, Mozambique, Myanmar, Namibia, Niger, Nigeria, Oman, Pakistan, Qatar, Russian Federation, Rwanda, Saint Kitts and Nevis, Saint Lucia, Saint Vincent and Grenadines, Saudi Arabia, Senegal, Sierra Leone, Somalia, South Africa, Sudan, Suriname, Swaziland, Syrian Arab Republic, Tajikistan, Tunisia, Uganda, United Arab Emirates, United Republic of Tanzania, Uzbekistan, Viet Nam, Yemen, Zambia, Zimbabwe

That said... let's eat! There are quite a few Google searches for "3 best restaurants in Marrakesh." I've been there over a dozen times-- starting in 1969-- and the last time was about 4 years ago. I thought it was miraculous that this morning I remembered the names of my two favorite restaurants from that trip... and then found that I had posted about them from Morocco at the time.

The only restaurant in Guéliz (the new city) we went to is the justifiably famous Al Fassia. The 2 unique things about it is that it is entirely run by women and that they revel in the concept of a la carte, never an easy thing for foreigners to find. The food was superb and expensive but not over the moon. And, like many Moroccan eateries, if you give them enough notice, they'll prepare things for you to order. The menu has all the best Moroccan standards and you can pick the ones you want and not have to bother with the ones you don't. It was sold out when we went and they said we'd have to come another time but begging and pleading helped and we were seated in an hour... For our big night out the El Cadi's manager suggested we go to the Dar Zellij deep in the heart of the medina. I was intrigued because it isn't in any of the tourist guide books, although it is very much for tourists. We got there considerably before they were ready to serve so we spent some time talking with the very friendly and accommodating owner. The restaurant is simply one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. The food, although the typical tourist menu (unless you call in advance and order what you want, which we did), is PERFECTION. Everything was beyond delicious. And the servings were not gargantuan (as is typical in Morocco), although if you're a glutton, have no fear: they're happy to serve seconds on any dish you want more of.

So I'm looking for some suggestions along these lines, restaurants where the chefs are out to impress the customers with the best that they can do. Please let me know if you've found any along those lines. (I've already got Le Tobsil and Yacout on my list, so what I'm looking for is something delicious but not grand.) I also hear that there's a vegan restaurant in town now! Earth Cafe Marrakesh is also organic; it opened in 2007 (and they have a version opening, or just opened, in Essaouira too).

Planning A Trip To Morocco

Yesterday I booked my flights from L.A. to Marrakesh. Roland said it'll be his 5th trip there. It'll be my 14th! The first time I went I drove. Not from L.A.-- from Germany, where, in 1969, I had purchased a VW camper van, which became my home for several years, and drove around Europe, wound up in Spain, and then took a ferry, with the van, from Algeciras to Ceuta. (Algeciras is at the bottom of Spain and you can get a ferry to Ceuta, a lonely Spanish colony they haven't given back yet, or directly to Tangier, which is what I've always done since that first trip. Except when I take a plane-- which is what I'm doing this time. No carefree two-three months to drive around Iberia and Morocco this time-- just 3 week conventional holiday in Morocco. And in the old days, you had to more or less fly to Casablanca and then get to Marrakesh or Essaouira from there.

Now it's almost convenient to just fly directly to Marrakesh. I say "almost" because it's still a small regional airport and not many international flights-- other than charters-- go in and out. I found one on a subsidiary of Royal Air Moroc, Atlas Blue, which I had never heard of. But it flies from Heathrow to Marrakesh. The only thing I'll miss about Casablanca is Le Port de Pêche, one of my favorite seafood restaurants anywhere, a consolation for anyone who is forced to travel to an otherwise must-to-avoid (more or less) Casablanca.

Anyway, today's New York Times Travel Section is all about Morocco. The raison d'etre for all that space is a music oriented piece on Essaouira, the wonderful seaport on the Atlantic Ocean I discovered after Marrakech back when I first started coming to Morocco. I knew Jimi Hendrix a little from New York and he was there too, taking a rest before going to play at the Isle of Wight Festival (where I was headed as well). Essaouira was a lot sleeper then than it is now. And now-- every June-- a guy I met years and years ago hosts a big (5 day long) music festival. It highlights gnaoua music which is a mixture of African and Arab musical traditions.

Unlike festivals staged, à la Woodstock, in muddy, middle-of-nowhere pastures, or worse, in vast, overheated football stadiums, the Gnawa’s setting, in a small, friendly and almost impossibly picturesque, wind-cooled seaside city, is as magical and mesmerizing as the music.

Roland's pissed off because the article on Eassouira doesn't mention any of the really great seafood restaurants that make the city one of the culinary capitals of the country. I'm delighted; the fewer tourists who have those places on their agendas, the more room for us when we're back the in a couple months. I'll do a more comprehensive guide to Essouira restaurants when we're there, meanwhile, suffice it to remember that it's the home of nutty, delicious argan oil.

88 Lines About 44... Tourist Destinations

The world's new culinary capital?

Tomorrow's NY Times will publish an interactive feature called The 44 Places To Go In 2009. You can vote on each and you can order them by filters such as "luxury," "foodie," "culture," "party," "eco," etc. I've been to 23 of their recommendations, from Reykavik, Buffalo and Washington, DC to Dakar, India, Phuket and Marrakesh. They call Marrakesh, which I've visited a dozen times since 1969, "the culinary destination of the year." I like Moroccan food-- ate at Chameau on Fairfax last night and rejoiced when I stumbled upon La Rose des Sables, Bamako's only Moroccan restaurant, a few weeks ago. And in 2006 I had even posted a story here called Eating in Marrakesh. But I never thought I'd see this:

As the fascination with Moroccan cuisine has taken off-- both in the United States and around the globe-- epicures and chowhounds are flocking to the ancient ochre-hued city of Marrakech. Foreign-led food tours are sprouting. Homegrown cooking classes are multiplying. And high-end restaurants run by European hotshots are opening alongside the city's nonpareil street food and old, homestyle establishments.

Wow! Quite a leap from the communal tables of the Djemaa el Fna! But if you think that's odd, the Time's top destination for "culture" is Doha, Qatar. They contrast it with Dubai, the Las Vegas of the Middle East, and point to the just opened Museum of Islamic Art, I.M. Pei's "ziggurat-like structure of white stone... far off the art-world grid, in a corner of a globe known more for its religious fundamentalism than its embrace of cutting-edge art." Doha also has a "raft" of new contemporary art galleries in the historic souk, a cobbled together national symphony orchestra, and-- coming soon-- their own Tribeca Film Festival. All brought to you by the emir, Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa al-Thani, and his 26-year-old daughter, Sheikha al Mayassa (the lucky purchaser of $160 million worth of Mark Rothko, Francis Bacon and Damien Hirst at a recent Sotheby's auction; we have the same taste!) Still... the #1 cultural destination in the world? Is Qatar a big Times advertiser?

Party central is Florianópolis, Brazil, and it sounds like the kind of place to avoid at all costs. Other party towns include Berlin (well... duh!), the Aegean Sea, Cuba and... Kazakhstan.

On most Friday nights in Almaty, the Uzbek-themed night spot known as the Car Wash-- an ornately decorated rooftop restaurant with enviable mountain views-- is packed with well-heeled Kazakhs smoking water pipes, drinking, dancing and eating extravagantly. Sandwiched between a residential district scheduled for rapid development and Almaty’s business district, the Car Wash is not the only center of hyperactive nocturnal activity.

Infused with newly flowing oil money, Kazakhstan’s largest city is flush with nightclubs and exotic restaurants. The city’s main boulevards are lined with English-language signs; boutiques sell everything from Armani to gem-encrusted Vertu cellphones, and cafes serve the latest in overpriced coffee concoctions.

Sacha Baron Cohen’s comic Borat character may have imprinted in the minds of many people a sense of ridiculousness about Kazakhstan, but there is little that is ridiculous about this sprawling business hub. Half a dozen luxury hotels are planned or under construction, including an ambitious JW Marriott Hotel opening next summer. The country’s flagship carrier, Air Astana, has added international flights to cities like Hanover, Germany; Dubai; and Bangkok. Wide-bodied Airbus and Boeing jets have joined its fleet.

In short, Almaty is no longer a hardship outpost for the diplomats and the oil industry executives who still dominate the city’s visitor logs.

Still... sounds like quite a stretch to call this a party destination-- even more than calling Doha a world cultural capital. Could be I'm so jaded about Kazakhstan because I just finished reading Ken Silverstein's brilliant new book, Turkmeniscam about the evils of Inside-the-Beltway lobbying, to which that monstrous and grotesque country is no stranger.

And although Kazakhstan ranks up there in this category too, the Times' top destination for luxury is Phuket, an island off the west coast of Thailand. I haven't been there since the 2004 tsunami wiped out the villa I used to rent on the beach, but the Times says Phuket is back-- and better than ever. And the top destination for the frugal traveler? Vegas, the Times apparently mixing up the concepts "frugal" and "cheap."

Since I've just returned from a brief stay in Dakar, I decided to see how my experience jibed with the Times' write-up. I liked Dakar primarily because it was an easy way to acclimate myself to Africa and get ready for the real thing: Mali. I had a great time because of the people I met there and the music scene. Dakar I found pretty nice but not amazing; Roland said it was a waste of time. The Times touts Gorée Island, which is pleasant enough but... nothing to write home about. They also point to the music scene, which I also loved, although I found it in second place behind Mali's.

They may not be Billboard chart-toppers, but Senegalese acts like the rollicking Orchestra Baobab, the soulful pop vocalist Baaba Maal and the poetic lyricist and harmonica virtuoso Ismael Lo-- to say nothing of the international star Youssou N'Dour-- have helped turn the colorful French-speaking city of Dakar into a world-music hotbed.

Their overall #1 destination for 2009? Beirut. OK. And the place on their list I'm thinking of visiting this year? Madagascar, "nature's laboratory," (at #38).

WHAT'S BETTER-- RENTING YOUR OWN PLACE OR STAYING IN A HOTEL?

I think the first time I figured out that, generally speaking, renting a place was better than staying in a hotel was 1970. I rented a house for a couple of months on the beach in Goa. Once I figured out the function of the herd of pigs on the property, everything was smooth as silk and I settled in for a nice leisurely stay in my very first post-college home-of-my-own. It took me about 3 days to convince myself that I was actually a Goan and start, relatively speaking, integrating myself into the pulse of the community. I don't recall ever seeing a hotel in Goa although I'd hear from the hippies and other travelers who came to our beach-- the one that was 30 steps from my front door-- that there were hotels.

When you're staying in a place for less than a month, renting a place is tough. After my 10th trip to Thailand I finally figured out that a secluded villa on Phuket was way more what I was looking for than a berth at even the nicest of hotels. I don't think I ever put on any clothes for weeks at a time. And then a couple years ago I rented a villa overlooking the Ayung River in central Bali. Except to go pick up a friend who was staying at the Ritz, I never even visited the tourist ghetto on the island and, as far as I could tell from my vantage over the Ayung, I was indeed the only non-Balinese on the entire island.

These days, whenever I can, I always rent an apartment or a house rather than stay in a hotel. So, when planning my trip to Argentina a few months ago I was delighted when Lieber, an Argentine waiter at my favorite raw foods restaurant, told me that renting apartments was a very normal thing to do in Buenos Aires for anyone staying at least a week. Perfect! I found what looked like a reputable rental agency that specializes in dealing with foreigners and quickly found an apartment in the part of town (Recoleta) everybody was telling me was the safest and best located.

The apartment was perfect, right on Posadas, across the street from the Four Seasons Hotel-- a light, airy, well-kept one bedroom, with a living room, dining area and kitchenette, fully supplied with everything from sheets and silverware to a free phone for local calls, Wi-FI, a doorman and daily maid service. And the price? Prices vary based on location, size, all that stuff, but generally it costs for a week what you would pay for a night in a comparable hotel.

The agency I used was BytArgentina and I couldn't find anything online about them being unscrupulous or anything like that. My experience with the agents I used on Bali, BaliVillas, was superb and I just assumed-- uh oh-- that BytArgentina would be as good. They weren't-- and I mentioned what went wrong in a story I did a couple weeks ago about safety and scams in Buenos Aires.

In this case, the company (or perhaps the owner of the apartment, more likely), shrewdly not accepting credit cards, only cash, managed to separate me from $500. I had no recourse other than to suck it up. Something similar had happened to me in Tangier decades ago at the El Minzah Hotel (best in town), a $100 travelers check having been removed from the safe behind the reception desk! Left me with a bad taste in my mouth, but, after trying a couple of less grand hotels, I wound up back at the El Minzah a few times since. I know for sure I'd never rent an apartment through BytArgentina again (nor from Graciela Ujaque, the owner of the apartment). Would I rent an apartment in Buenos AIres again? 100% yes. Let me tell you why.

Aside from getting a sense of belonging to a culture that most hotel guests can never experience, there are some tangible reasons I like to get my own place. I don't eat junk food and I take breakfast seriously. Even in NYC, where I do stay in a hotel, I always get one with a kitchenette. That way I can stock up on healthy goodies (fruits, nuts, etc) and on breakfast goods (blueberries, melons, papayas, lemons...) and have a place to store them and prepare them conveniently. It is virtually always much less expensive to rent your own place than to stay in a hotel. And it's far more personal.

Not everyone agrees, of course. One of my friends found my luxurious villa (with 4 servants-- including the best cook on the island of Bali-- and a swimming pool) akin to camping out. She was eager to move to the more... sterile environment of the Ritz. (I talked about that syndrome a little when I discussed the Park Hyatt in Buenos Aires a few weeks ago.) Some people, maybe most, would prefer to be pampered and to have everything done for them, something more likely in a hotel. Me, I like going to the local markets and shopping for day to day stuff. You start to feel the rhythm of the town's life. Last time I stayed in Marrakesh, I gave up on the Mamounia and stayed in a riad instead, sort of halfway between a hotel and an apartment; well, not halfway, but we definitely had the feeling of being part of the neighborhood.

BLOGGIN' FROM MARRAKESH... SORT OF

I just got a letter from an old friend, Dave, who is visiting Morocco with 2 other mutual friends, Jo and Cindy. It's the first time in Morocco for each of them. He wrote to me from the Riyad El Cadi, the fantastic townhouse in Marrakesh where Roland and I stayed last December. Dave said it was ok to turn his letter into a blog.

I'm writing this to you under the lemon trees in the central courtyard of the riyad el cadi.  As I type, the electrifying moan of the afternoon call to prayer is starting to swell across the medina. We arrived last night after a flight from Amsterdam. I am staying in your room, the Piscine, and Josephine and Cindy are in the Maison Bleu.

Thanks so much for recommending this place. It's absolutely lovely. And they light up when we mention "Howie".

Here's a little excerpt from of my diary. The longer entry spent a lot of time describing our arrival on the edge of the Jamaa El Fna and the walk to the Riyad -- a scene you know well enough, so I'll spare you that bit and cut to early this morning...

As I have for the last week, I slept like an old dog. Me, who's used to three or four hours at a time, sleeping for six and seven. Very odd. What's surprising here is that you're in the middle of this incredibly dense neighborhood that stretches out at least a couple of miles in every direction from you and at night it's just dead silent. I had a crazy dream about being caught up in some very intense religous mystery (along the lines of the Da Vinci Code I think -- although i haven't read it) chasing people through all these little corridors and stairways, being warned to stop asking questions by some people and pulled into dark doorways by others who would confide some mysterious bit of secret information. I woke up quite disoriented to the sound of the morning call to prayer at 5, followed by a really amazing concert of bird calls of every description. Needless to say, it took me a while to feel like i was really awake and really here.

At breakfast this morning a fellow named Hassan from the hotel spent about a half an hour with us talking about what we wanted to see and do, and then marking routes and destinations on the impossibly complicated map of the old city -- the Medina.  A bit later we set out on our way, deciding to go visit an antique-dealing friend of Hassan's who he said was not more than 3 minutes walk up the alley. Within a minute and a half we were totally lost. I can't really describe the scene, and I know that sooner or later you just get used to it and start to get your bearings, but at first it's just sort of mind-blowing,  Turn a corner and you're in the middle of a little vegetable market where a man is selling red onions, a woman has two little piles of apricots, a moped is honking its way through the busy crowd, an old old man is leading a donkey pulling a cart full of animal hides and then another man more or less pulls you into his doorway to show you his blanket factory. Before you know it, he's led you down a dark, dark corridor and into a ramshackle room where ten or twelve men are working on looms, weaving these incredibly vibrant colored yarns into blankets and rugs. And the guy is offering you tea and talking about America and saying "you are welcome here" and about how he'll make a special price for you. It's at once stunningly beautiful, squalid, intimidating, annoying, funny and seemingly so damned authentic that the modern cynic in you can't possibly believe that it could possibly be authentic at all. I think this is the thing that, in my first day here, has suprised me the most. You travel around a bit and you start to believe that every place is more or less the same.  London is not that different from Los Angeles... Amsterdam... Chicago...  even China which in a lot of ways really blew my mind.  What's surprising is how much alike they all seem to be. You begin to expect to be able to feel more or less at home anywhere. Then there's this place which makes you realize that the world is still a lot bigger than you are. Today, wandering through the maze of markets, it made me feel quite naive. And that, in turn, made me feel vulnerable, and for a second, a little uneasy. And then again, everyone is remarkably friendly and funny. A man in a shop asked me if Josephine and Cindy were my two wives. I laughed and he laughed and he told me I must be a Berber and that he'd give me 12,000 dirhams for the pair of them and we both laughed some more.  I guess the Berber are the butt of a lot of jokes here.  A few minutes later, in another stall, Josephine was considering buying some old tins.  She pulled me in to talk to the seller who was asking 400 dirhams and he asked me to tell him my price.  When I said she would pay 200 for them, he looked and me and said I must be Berber. I said, "Berber? Why? Because I'm cheap?" To which he replied, "Cheap!  Yes." And laughed.

Yesterday I had to abandon the girls and retreat to the Riyad after I couldn't absorb any more shopping.  A couple of hours later they returned with a tale of Josephine nearly getting into it with a passive agressive t-shirt seller who, after apparently some time spent chatting, offering tea and showing the goods, felt that her price was insulting.  He said something along the lines of "Are you a little crazy in the head?" and at some point put the shirts in a bag and threw them at her telling her, "Fine! Just take them American. Just take them for nothing."  I sort of wish I'd seen it and then again I'm really glad I wasn't there.

Today I think we're headed to some gardens and a supermarket.

Oh, and we had a wonderful dinner at El Fassia last night.

Anyway, thanks again Howie.  We feel a little like you're here with us.

UPDATE: 36 HOURS IN MARRAKESH-- TOO EXPRESS

Today's NY Times is right about one thing: Marrakesh is cool. Their vision of why... kind of superficial. Hey, but superficial people have a right to discover cool places too (and destroy them for everyone else).

EATING IN MARRAKESH

Samir from The View From Fez blog has a great list of places to eat and sleep in Marrakech (as well as just about everything else anyone would ever want to know about Morocco). And the best Marrakesh restaurant guide I've ever run across is Footprint Guide's. But I want to stick my two cents in too. Everyone has a favorite spot for eating in Marrakesh. My friend Alisse, who had just gotten back before I left insisted that Yacout was THE place and Alisse is a great cook and knows food. Everyone says it's the most beautiful restaurant in town but the rap is that the food is... uneven, and even unpredictable. The idea of another huge overdone Moroccan feast was too much for me to handle and I never did experience it for myself.

Like I explained a few days ago when I wrote about eating in Fes, when I can I do my best to generally avoid the restaurants specifically catering to tourists. Occasionally one of these palace dining extravaganzas is done right-- and in Marrakesh, they have it down pretty well-- but most of the time these places are grotesquely over-priced and the food extremely bland and uninteresting to appeal to a lowest common denominator, taking elderly tourist bowel quirks more into consideration than authentic culinary excellence. The extreme, of course, is to pick one of the food stalls that cover an acre of in the Jemaa el Fna at night.

In the 35 or so years I've been visiting Marrakesh I think this was probably the first time I actually ate at a Jemaa el Fna food stall. I'm always so overly cautious about what I eat. I mean I don't even drink tap water in L.A. and I try as best I can to only eat organic food and never anything fried, and so on (nor do I eat anything made with sugar or flour or cooked in cheap oils). When I made my 2 year trip across Asia I noticed that my less picky friends, who ate as though they were born in places like Herat and Erzurum and Benares, were always coming down with seriously debilitating and revolting travelers' diseases like the infamous Kabul Runs (think Montezuma's Revenge on steroids). But the steaming bowl of harira Roland was slopping down greedily looked so good that I decided to go for it. There were no ill-effects and the harira was completely delicious (and only cost like 2.5 dirhams, as opposed to between 60 and 80 in the tourist restaurants, thirty times more!).

Anyway, let me share a couple of Marrakesh restaurant experiences with you. The only restaurant in Guéliz (the new city) we went to is the justifiably famous Al Fassia. The 2 unique things about it is that it is entirely run by women and that they revel in the concept of a la carte, never an easy thing for foreigners to find. The food was superb and expensive but not over the moon. And, like many Moroccan eateries, if you give them enough notice, they'll prepare things for you to order. The menu has all the best Moroccan standards and you can pick the ones you want and not have to bother with the ones you don't. It was sold out when we went and they said we'd have to come another time but begging and pleading helped and we were seated in an hour. I don't know if the dining room at the Riyad El Cadi takes non-residents (I don't see why they wouldn't if you asked politely) but the cooking is superb and, basically you tell them what you want in the morning and they serve it for dinner. You won't find better homemade type cooking anywhere. For our big night out the El Cadi's manager suggested we go to the Dar Zellij deep in the heart of the medina. I was intrigued because it isn't in any of the tourist guide books, although it is very much for tourists. We got there considerably before they were ready to serve so we spent some time talking with the very friendly and accommodating owner. The restaurant is simply one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. The food, although the typical tourist menu (unless you call in advance and order what you want, which we did), is PERFECTION. Everything was beyond delicious. And the servings were not gargantuan (as is typical in Morocco), although if you're a glutton, have no fear: they're happy to serve seconds on any dish you want more of.

Just a note about all the famous dives made famous by the hippies starting in the 60s that flank the Jemaa El Fna: the food won't kill you but if eating is a joy-- and in Morocco it should be-- these are not worthwhile places to waste a meal time. They basically all serve so-so completely unmemorable basics, neither good nor particularly bad.

RIADS, THE NEW OLD THING IN MARRAKESH ACCOMMODATION

A riad is an urban house situated in the medina or kasbah. It isn't a random loosely defined lodging but one whose plans and arrangements are rigorously codified. Since Moroccan architecture is more inward looking and given to isolation and intimacy rather than showing off, a riad is a private, cloistered place of escape from the busy swirl outside its thick walls. A riad is organized around a central square courtyard, often decorated with zelige (traditional mosaic patterns) centering on a fountain and orange or lemon trees. 4 paths intersect in the middle. The central courtyard is usually surrounded by an arched colonnade giving access to the living rooms and kitchen. More sleeping areas are constructed on the upper floors, creating a covered arcade around the patio with balustrades running around each story. Traditionally roof top terraces use awnings to protect against the sun; great place for a meal.

Marrakesh is the riad capital of Morocco-- and they are more than giving the hotels a run for their money. A concierge in Tangier told me he was trying to book a room for a client who was going to Marrakesh the following week and there was not one room available anywhere in town! Europeans and forward-looking Moroccans have been buying up stately old homes, restoring them to their original splendor and turning them into riads. Their thick walls protect the inhabitants from the heat or the cold and most of the outside noise and hustle and bustle. More often than not, you find them along a derb (narrow alleyway) with no access by car.

This was my 10th visit to Marrakesh but the first in a riad. It so beats hotels I don't know where to begin. I guess the 2 things that impressed me most of all were how personal the service was and how integrated you feel in the rhythm of the media which you feel like a resident of. In the past I've stayed at the the Mamounia Hotel, easily the best hotel in the country, and always a contender for best hotel in the world. It was famous for being a home-away-from-home for European aristocrats and for Winston Churchill. The chilly, aloof, snooty service still seems to be expecting Churchill-- and we did see Mick Jagger's ex, Jerry Hall there on New Years Eve when we went over to see if the gardens were still as gorgeous and lush as we remembered them (they were)-- but... well, you're more likely to be hanging around a busload of Belgian housewives on holiday than anyone with a von or van in front on their name. The last time we stayed there Roland left some considerable amount of cash in the inside pocket of a suit jacket inside the wardrobe (never a good idea but I guess he felt safe in "the best hotel in the world"). We were at dinner for 90 minutes and when we got back, the cash was gone. It isn't like he left it on a bench at the bus station. I mean how many people had access? But the hotel management was aggressively unhelpful and when we called the police, the hotel became downright nasty. Beautiful rooms, beautiful gardens, rapidly accelerating rates and not a place I'd ever stay again. So... weren't we happy to find that riads had sprung up all over the medina and were reputed to be offering as wonderful an experience as the Mamounia!

There seem to be riads at many price ranges. I read about them online and found one that looked like it would be good for me, the Riyad el Cadi-- and did I ever come up with a TOTAL WINNER! Maybe there are better riads in Marrakech but I will probably never find out because I loved the el Cadi so much I'll always go back. Their website and this general riad site have good descriptions and details. But after the utterly impersonal service at the gorgeous (and formerly very personal) Palais Jamai in Fes, the wonderful total service/family atmosphere of the el Cadi was perfect. Anyone looking to get away from impersonal hotel service and arm's length relation to the life of the country should try a riad. In a way it's total immersion as well as a somewhat authentic Moroccan style of accommodation, offering a haven of tranquillity in the midst of the medina. They are pretty much all architectural treasures, that will give you an insight into tradition, culture and craftsmanship. The el Cadi's art collection is really beautiful and displayed everywhere.

The riad concept is taking off in Tangier and starting in Fes. Essaouira has 'em-- although I didn't pick as well there. If you're planning a trip to Morocco, I urge you to do a little research and think about riads instead of hotels.