I’ve never been to a Muslim country let alone talked to a Muslim person in my life. Stepping off the airport bus into the square Fna, one of the largest and most antique in the Arab world, is like stepping into the ocean during a storm surge, waves crashing disorienting you, a sensory explosion of sounds and smells, overwhelming and intimidating at first, it’s like stepping back through time; snake charmers, men playing with scorpions, children with chained monkeys and sellers with traditional leather items and brass cups litter the open square. As the day progresses and turns to night the atmosphere changes, it becomes more crowded, the snake charmers and monkeys depart giving way to story tellers and magicians. Dozens of food stalls fill up the sqaure selling every piece of meat imaginable. My stomach was still adjusting from lunch so I wasn’t quite daring enough to try brain, maybe next time
Bordering the square is the Marrakech souk, a traditional African market where everything under the sun could be found, it is also the largest in Morocco. The Marrakech souk is a confusing labyrinth that seems almost impossible to navigate, you have to let go of your fears of getting lost and accept the fact that you WILL get lost. Through various twists and turns you lose track of where you entered, vendors shout at you, the smell of recently tanned leather goods and pile of spices assault your nose and people speed impossibly fast past you on mopeds through ridiculously small packed alleyways. A unique world in which after only a day I was exhausted of being a part of.