marrakech in film

I don't even know how to begin this post, other than my tan is fading and I am craving the blistering heat*** of northern Africa.
Marrakech is chaotically beautiful, and 4 days spent there with Dalal were a blissful adventure. I feel like the charm of the city is so perfectly captured in film, it evokes the rustic magic of the medina, with its fading red buildings and winding souks of stalls and watermelons and donkeys and carts and snake charmers. The faded exposure gives a sense of times before and walking the streets of Marrakech has a similar effect.
The adventure was filled with 20p orange juice and problematic henna and 3 hour siestas by the pool and oases of calm and vibrant colours and a lost (and found) phone and mad roads and long taxi journeys for which we both slept solidly and tagine and mint tea and photoshoots and tiles and long walks and postcards and refreshing swimming and some questionable french (on my part obvs) and too much cat calling and a lot of very cute kittens and a mission to find the cheapest water and an utter adoration of the heat and all those little things you can't quite put into words.

The sun terrace of our Riad felt like a haven of utter tranquility, with our claimed sun beds, magical views over the city and a rare silence. We spent hours, after wandering the streets, lounging, reading and talking and swimming, before adventuring into the Moroccan night (which is an experience like no other–think snake charmers, monkeys on chains ( :( ), horses, stalls, street sellers, traditional musicians, dancers, a constant noise of excitement nd busy-ness). We would then return and sit by the pool and talk until fatigue got the best of us.
This trip marked my first out of Europe and, in a totally naive and ignorant way, I adored how different it was. This was definitely enhanced by the fact that we stayed in the Medina, as oppose to the new city, but everything was so exciting and contrasting (typified by me shouting: "oh my god its a camel!" approximately 2 minutes after meeting Dalal) and refreshing. A couple of the disposables are taken at Ouzoud falls (approx 3 hours out of Marrakech) and, when I wasn't sleeping, the journey was a fascinating realisation in just how rural and traditional Morocco is, with people riding donkeys, pushing carts and herding their goats along the main road.

The main 'touristy' bits we did include: le jardin majorelle, le jardin secret (my fave), la maison de la photographie, palais de bahia, katoubia tombs, ouzoud falls, djemaa el-Fna, the medina and probably much much more that I've forgotten in the whirlwind. These were all madly aesthetic but I also adored just wandering the streets and taking in the language and the culture and the chaos.

And, after parting with Dalal (she stayed on in Morocco with family) and 3 hours of intense Moroccan airport security, I kissed goodbye to the blessed sun (I adore the sun) and leaned out the plane window and thought "fuck thats Africa!" and "fuck! I did it!" (dis bitch could't stay away from home (for even a night) until she was 16 lmao). I then cried on the train home because I'd been travelling for 13 hours, because my train was delayed by 2 hours and because its actually a very long way from Marrakech to Newcastle. In true Katie style, I then jumped off the train and straight to the pub to see my friends and break my 3 weeks of sobriety lol.

So here's to an ace 4 days of Moroccan paradise (that ended 2 weeks of general paradise), internet friends who you go on holiday with (?!), sun loving and the immediate resumption of this summer's madness that consists entirely of work, friends, g&t's nd no sleep.


***blistering heat is absolutely no exaggeration, my feet started to spontaneously blister and thus became crispy (yum!). I also had a dramatic nosebleed in the pool which led to a trail of blood running through the riad
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