By telling us your country of residence we are able to provide you with the most relevant travel insurance information.
Please note that not all content is translated or available to residents of all countries. Contact us for full details.
Shares
The many compelling colours and light-plays bring with it an indelible sense of discovery. So when you find yourself in Marrakech in the evening haggling for Tagine wares, it gives you an acute awareness of interacting with life. I say that in in light of how most people these days only interact virtually, digitally, and find themselves at a complete loss with dealing with the reality of living in the real world. I expected heat. I expected it to be red hot. I looked at the weather reports before I left. I shouldn’t have bothered. I happen to like the sense of discovery. It was a beautiful kind of weather. Sunny, mild, a light breeze that caressed your very being. Crossroads. It was never as noisy as you would find it in say for example Bangkok, or Mumbai. There is a middle ground. There always is. And Marrakech did not disappoint. With its confluence of the Arab, African and Occidental, it makes you feel good about humanity. About life. Especially if you’re a traveller. The orange juice stalls. At the Jemaa El Fna, you can find life in its entirety. Snake charmers, monkeys doing tricks, food, delicious food, sweet sellers and a myriad other trades, smells (delicious mixed with foul), tourists offended by the way animals are treated, tourists offended by the way kids are treated, people (all sorts), that is a sheer fascination to watch. What a pity then that none of the café’s or restaurants around the square sell any wine. Wine always seems a wonderful catalyst to magical odysseys. There is something hypnotic about the late evening light creating shadows. And the sound of horse hoofs as the carriages pass by. Traditionally dressed Berbers (old men, by the way) trying to make a quick buck out of the tourists taking photographs, so they could have drown their sorrows of life in drink that night. Mosaic again. Finding an old hotel at the end of the one of the busier streets that evening. Local beer. Dutch girl. Mosaic on the walls. Travel talk. Experiences. In India. In Thailand. In Peru. Mutual ground. Travel is always such a safe topic to be on. It leads to such interesting things. Always a conversation starter, leader. It’s one of life’s rare occurrences when one meets someone in an exotic setting and think straight away ‘Hola, she’s the one!!’. Then of course, it’s obligatory, and one has to ask the girl if she would like to dance. If she says yes, looking in your eyes rather that express anything verbally, you know that dance is going to be a long one involving some compelling sex and rock and roll. That could be construed as chemistry. And that sort of chemistry doesn’t need a catalyst. But such pleasure were denied me that night. There were moonlight shadows outside. A fire rose across the building from where the hotel bar was. Then the sudden rush of fire engines and ambulances. Crowds. Wouldn’t it have been safer to keep a distance? It was time to go back to the Riad. There were other pleasure to be had.