MY MARRAKECH DIARY PART 1
(view of the Atlas mountains from the plane)
It’s 06:03 AM the prayers are just slowly fading out. Wrapped in three blankets against the cold desert air I am listening. It’s still dark but the city is awake. Roosters, chants, air- con motors all humming without regard for the early hour. It has been our first night in Marakesh and I am mesmerised.
The second we left the airport the world started spinning. I have never seen, heard, smelled or felt so many different things at once. The constant hurricane of experiences and activity forces you to switch anything you brought from home and makes you be right where you are. Here, with your mind and body alike, full attention to the world around you.
Infinite brights of pillows, carpets, clothes, thousand tones of pink plastered walls, beiges and blacks of leather craft stores, grey clouds of moped fumes, silver glistening of lamps. The scent of spices, fuel, animals, leather tanning, the sweet warm mint tea, steaming vegetables, roasting meats, dust and infinite other things I can't put a name to yet.
Mopeds whizzing left and right, men shouting calling you in to thousand street stands, sharp notes of the cobra charmers flute, rusty bicycle chains, welding, footsteps rushing everywhere around you. It’s like a dance everyone practised and perfected but you are thrown into the dance floor without knowing the melody of the song yet.
You have to have patience in a place that has none to truly enjoy it, to find moments of quiet in the rush and chaos. Have patience for people who are trying to make their living, have understanding for their ways. There are many things you can’t photograph, there are places you should not go. But in the midst of it all know, it would not be the same without it.