Souk adventures

From our riyad we ventured out by day to the souks of the Medina ...

... where a map turns out to be pointless. This ancient part of the city is a winding sprawl of narrow alleys and roads ... to a foreigner's eye, each one almost identical to the next .

Getting hopelessly lost is inevitable, and part of the fun

... though there is never a shortage of willing guides to help you find your way if you so much as hesitate ...

and almost certainly in this case there will be a detour via their cousin's/brother's/brother-in-law's/father's/uncle's jewellery, silver, carpet or slipper stall ...

... where, they assure you, the produce is the best quality and value in the whole of Marrakech!

My favourites were the souks devoted entirely to babouches (above), the colourful soft suede and leather slippers worn indoors (of which I bought several pairs to keep at the front door at home) ... and the carpet souks ...

rich colours woven by Berber women in intricate patterns, no two alike ...

In  this cosy stall below, tightly packed wall-to-wall with carpets, we sat drinking mint tea and chatting with the owner, tucked away from the bustle and noise of the market, unhurriedly discussing life and the world in between admiring his stock  ...

Another day an impromptu guide appeared in the form of a young man I began chatting to, who offered to take us (with a detour to his brother's babouche stall, of course) to the wool-dyers' souk, where he had worked as a young boy and where many of his family still worked ...
Wool and silk are dyed here in huge vats and then strung up to dry in the sun ...

We were shown how dyes are mixed ...

to get the incredibly vivid colours of the finished products ...

like this ruby red scarf that was wrapped around Younger Daughter - a quick lesson in traditional Berber headdress ...

How fabulous does she look? ... just one of many souk adventures, including being draped with a cobra while a monkey stole her sunglasses, befriending market sellers and having her hands hennaed ...

Guided up to the rooftop of the wool-dyers' souk on a rickety iron staircase, our new friend showed us the fantastic views across the desert to the Atlas mountains capped with snow, the light always crisp and clear, the sky vivid blue.

Walking in the streets and market places of Marrakech is a constant assault on the senses ... sounds of trade and bargaining, muezzins calling and traditional music mix with the smells of street food, animals, pungent smoke, fruit ... 

spices, incense, fragrances ...

clockwise from top left: herbs, incense, cinnamon sticks and rose petals in colourful fabric bags

and vibrant colour, colour, colour everywhere ...

Here in the Quartier Juif, Marrakechs's ancient community of Maghrebi (North African) Jews is diminished in numbers, many having migrated to Israel and France, but the covered market here remains a foodie's paradise ...

heaped mountains of saffron, cinnamon, pepper, cumin, paprika, turmeric

star anise next to root ginger and coffee beans, filling huge canisters or bags

The quantity, variety and visual displays are just extraordinary ...

Back home and inspired, I am currently obsessed with Yotam Ottolenghi's versions of Moroccan feasts (click on the link for fantastic recipes) that take me back to the magic of the Medina.