Marrakesh, the Land of God

On the way to the railway station, we met two young South Korean men who happen to notice our large luggage bags and ask us, “What has happened recently in China? We have encountered lots of Chinese people on the way to the railway station from Greece.”

Release time : 2017-03-10 15:52:37

source : Sina Travel

From Casablanca to Marrakesh

Traveling from Casablanca to Marrakesh, we choose to take the train.

On the way to the railway station, we met two young South Korean men who happen to notice our large luggage bags and ask us, “What has happened recently in China? We have encountered lots of Chinese people on the way to the railway station from Greece.”

“It was the birthday of our motherland a few days ago. Everyone was so happy, and we were provided with a few days off. If you have an opportunity to visit China, you will know that the number of Chinese people you have encountered is not big.”

We asked again, “Are you coming here for your holiday?”

“Nope, we have resigned from our jobs. After our resignation, we were planning to visit Europe first, and then the countries in Africa.”

Enjoy your travels.

After chugging through the red soil land and short undulating dunes, and past remote and poor hamlets and towns with mottled walls for three hours, the train finally arrived in Marrakesh, the “Land of God”.

It is said that you will see the largest outdoor square of Morocco in Marrakesh. Therefore, when hanging around in Casablanca, I lost my interest in the products of the city, because of my unlimited expectation of Marrakesh, hoping to see the illuminating square there.

The hotel we had reserved was just located in the vicinity of the square, and so we had already begun to talk about whether we should stay at the hotel to rest for a while or just leave our luggage bags at the hotel and directly go to the square. Then, the taxi stopped. We have arrived.

When I saw the long unexpected outdoor square with my luggage bag on the ground, it was indeed difficult to describe my initial feelings about it. When the host came to pick us up, I asked again, “Is this the largest square?”

He replied with hospitality, “Yes, yes.”

Ha ha...

It really was “Yes, yes...”

It

only took us less than eight minutes to walk to the hotel. I said, “I want to have a good rest first. You may go and hang around.”

“Perhaps the amazement of the outdoor square should come at night.” I consoled myself like this.

In fact, it really was.

In actuality, the square was already bustling at dusk, for the artists who trained snakes or blew flutes were growing in number, and the good strong smells of the roast mutton and baked bread were wafting thick in mid-air. The snack and fruit stall owners were becoming more hospitable, waving their hands to advertise and attract customers. Surrounding the square was cobwebbed streets and densely built old houses. Although the streets were narrow, you would feel like walking through a flourishing medieval street from the past. There was a currency exchange booth at the west entrance of the square. We exchanged some dirhams with our Euros, prepared for shopping and other entertainment programs in the two upcoming days.

Enter an alley after walking 100 meters from the cafe at the square, walk through several leather shops, and turn at three bends, you will see an old-fashioned grocery store. The second door next to the grocery is the inn where we lodged. After touring the night market, we sat together on the balcony to chat and observe the stars throughout the night.

The Second Day Itinerary

Old City Streets

Koutoubia Mosque

Majorelle花园

Truth be honest, it was not my dream that woke me up but the little sparrows in the yard. I felt like hundreds of twittering sparrows in the orange tree were flying up and down. Between waking up and dreaming my first reaction was, “Where is my slingshot?” I opened the door with annoyance, hearing the sound of a stringed musical instrument coming from downstairs. At the time, the red curtain began to dance with the breeze. This scene was really exotic. My tiredness disappeared instantly, I felt so comfortable, and I

picked up my camera, ready to search for the Koutoubia Mosque.

Koutoubia Mosque

Address: Avenue Mohammed V, Marrakesh, Morroco; southwest of Djemaa Fna, and about 500 meters from the square.

This can be counted as the landmark building of Marrakesh, but we finally learned that those who were not Muslims were not allowed to enter. It is said that large amounts of spices are put into the building materials during its construction. The locals said, “Today you can still smell it. Smell hard...” Perhaps my nose went wrong that day... However, the arrays of spice stalls displayed on the street and inside and outside the shops gave off a special smell. As we consulted the map and asked for directions from the street of the old town, we arrived at the Majorelle Garden after zigzagging through the streets for half an hour. During the process of looking for the garden, we unexpectedly saw different cafes and met many different kinds of interesting people, and that was really amusing.

When I lowered my head to consult the map at the entrance of an alley, I lifted my head to realize that a little girl was staring at me with her eyes wide open. Taking advantage of the time when her mother was chatting with her neighbors, she extended her hand to me, hoping to touch my arm, and I said, “Hi.” She became shy but blissful, and buried her head into her mother’s arms again, but lifted her head to peek at me again after a while. I took out my mobile phone to take photos of her she didn’t avoid the camera lens. The sunshine from the top of the alley highlighted her fluffy but natural curling hair. That natural curling hair was like the warm electricity current which shot to all directions, and this made me think of my childhood. Looking at her powerful but natural curling and the missing-toothed mouth, I couldn’t help wanting to take a photo with her. I told my idea to her mother, who carefully combed her hair out of habit once

again. Ha ha...

While leaving of the old town, we saw an array of fruit stalls and continued walking for about ten minutes or so northwest until we finally arrived at the Majorelle Garden. Realizing we were searching for the garden, one American uncle that passed by us volunteered to say hello to us and offer us directions, and then continued hanging around with a camera on his shoulders.

Majorelle Garden

Address: Jardin Majorelle, Rue Yves Saint Laurent, Marrakesh, Morocco

Website: www.jardinmajorelle.com

Admission: 70 dirhams (garden)

Opening hours: 9:00-17:00

Why did I come here? Was it to see the Yves Saint-Laurent, or the huge cacti? When I was looking for the entrance I saw a long queue of visitors and realized that the entrance must be there. There was a little shop which sold postcards. The garden was not as large as I thought, and the huge cacti were all protected by the railings, perhaps, in case of visitors taking photos by embracing these cacti. Yves Saint-Laurent the gallery was located at the northwestern corner of the garden. It was only about 20 square meters, and it looked casual and quiet, and not many visitors came here, though.

Within less than one hour of touring the garden, we came back to the old town and continued touring the night market after supper. Inside a bustling little alley, when my friends were huddling to try shoes, I seemed to have heard someone calling me. Lifting my head, I saw that American uncle again. Yes, we met again in the old town. He waved to me excitingly in the crowd, “Hi, hi, ha ha, I like you.”

I happily replied, “Ha ha, thank you.”

He then continued hanging around, and I continued trying on shoes. It was like two neighbors meet each other in a foreign land. I heard the song of Bob Dylan:

How many times must a man look up

Before he can see the sky

------Blowing in the Wind

After staying in Marrakesh for two days, we went to the Sahara Desert

. Later, we listened to the Bob Dylan song in our car again. The driver from Marrakesh also hummed to the song following the music. Listening to the radio, I learned that Bob Dylan won the Nobel Prize in Literature on October 13. Some of my friends said, the moment they heard the news, they thought the Nobel Prize official website must have been hacked. It was unbelievable. Therefore, you may find life is always full of unlimited possibilities.

Time is not limitless, but the world is.