Thursday, 12 March 2009

Marrakech in March 9: The aftermath.

(If you have clicked the picture to read about Marrakech, scroll down to the bottom of the page to start with the post there called 'Marrakech 1' and work your way up to this one. There are 9 altogether))

Despite worrying about not being able to haggle in the souks, I managed to come home with a healthy cross section of all they had to offer.

My room mate said I was talking in my sleep.
'Too much choice!'
But after my initial purchase of a carpet,yes..I succumbed, and the above gorgeous green basket at knock down prices, I was away.
A 'Silver' mirror, bought in a flurry without much choosing and I am sorry its almost the same as one my friend bought a year earlier, but once we looked at it the bargaining began.

At the carpet warehouse I thought I would not be able to able to afford one, and indeed, when I saw my hearts desire and was told it was 'Only one hundred and fifty quids' I said as much.

But I needn't have worried as I eventually paid one sixth of that.

Its beautiful, woven with silk in all my favourite colours.

But I forgot to ask if its a kilim and where it was woven.

These little beads must have taken someone ages to make, and I do feel somewhat ashamed of bargaining till they became affordable.

Then I spotted the 'Berber' bag. So unique and so decorative.
There were not many places selling these so I was excited to have something original.
A deal was struck and we were both happy.

These wooden utensils are so lovely as was the maker who did not ask a ridiculously high price so I paid the price he asked.

In the Berber pharmacy we lost all sense of value..was it the result of the shoulder massage or the hard sell?
We bought cold sore cream 'Better than Zovirax' they also had a product 'Better than Immodium' and, while not exactly 'a pill for every ill,' they at least had a 'bag of mysterious organic material for every ill.' Their fingers whizzed over the calculator keypads and some unexpectedly high numbers appeared and we handed over our Dirhams by the hundred.

But somehow, like the bottle of Ouzo you bought because you drank it in a water's edge taverna on a Greek Island, does not taste quite the same on a cold wet day in Lancashire, the creams and rose cologne and block of fragrant amber that smelled so delicious in Morocco, smell sickly and overpowering back home.
An unexpected find for my two addicted-to-irony grown up sons was this.

A train set.
Tootling round the little track were, in one carriage weilding a huge rocket launcher..
George dubya,

and in the carriage in front?

Guess who?
Well I've never seen one before I just had to get them one each.

Smaller trophies were given (for a little monetary consideration )
A piece of mosaic from the pile being cut by a man at the Saadian Tombs, and the weaver in the picture in the textile post allowed me to buy one of his spools of cactus fibre threads.

On the return journey, with a baggage allowance of 20kg I hit 19.9!

I also bought some leather slippers for my husband, which when opened almost made us high with the smell of the glue, and two woolly hats which are far too big for anyone, a lovely pair of woven scarves, and some Moroccan pastries at the airport.
Ever so hygenic.
He put on a plastic glove to help, and proceeded to hand out samples with the other hand.
Since I got home I have made some felt beads for my friend like the ones here. It has made me realise how much time and effort they take and I feel rather bad about haggling.

These aren't even as good as the ones in the soukh.

As well as all these treasures I brought home some lovely memories and its been a pleasure to share them here. I will print these posts so I can keep them as my album and journal of a very special experience.
I didn't really expect anyone to be very interested so having your comments has been a bonus.
Thank you.
The 'Prime mover' in making this little trip happen is my friend Margaret who I want to encourage to resume her lovely blog.
Thank you Margaret, for getting me to Marrakech.
watch this for a very antiseptic but evocative view.

Nuture Your Soul - Visit Morocco
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