Would I Go Back To Marrakech?
I certainly wouldn’t go back to Marrakech by myself.
The place was not what it was, when I went with C about ten years ago and although everybody at the riad tried, it’s not the sort of place you expect, when you pay the money I did.
Normally, I don’t need the wi-fi, as I have a mobile phone with me, but without any method of communication, I feel lost and somewhat trapped. When you are widowed, I suspect mild paranoia is something you live with!
My alternative holiday, would have been to fly to Bari. But I discarded that trip, as it would have meant flying on Ryanair. But even Ryanair at its most crowded and annoying, is something I can put up with, after this flying visit to Marrakech!
Home Run From Marrakech
I hadn’t expected this trip to be one of my home runs, but after abandoning the holiday in Marrakech, that is how it turned out. So I’m putting up this start page for the adventure.
So now there is a tag called Home Run From Marrakech.
Welcome To Marrakech
This picture sums up Marrakech to me!
Welcome To Marrakech
I did see an open-topped tpurist bus, which might have been worth riding, but there was nobody about to sell me a ticket.
A Holiday In Marrakech
The idea was supposed to be very simple. I would fly out of Gatwick on British Airways, have four nights in a riad in Marrakesh and then fly back on Thursday afternoon. I’d booked through a well-known travel agent and they had arranged everything.
Ten years or so ago, C and myself had flown to Marrakech and stayed for a weekend in the Villa des Oranges and I’d hoped to bring back some happy memories, with perhaps a trip to the Atlas Mountains, taking a lot of photographs and writing my blog. I’d also checked out that the riad had wi-fi and was rated to be friendly and good for solo travellers.
But everything went pear-shaped when I found that my mobile-phone had been lost at Gatwick. I use it constantly for keeping in touch with the world, but no matter as I’d bought a small netbook computer with me and the riad had wi-fi.
The riad was good, except for the wi-fi, which perhaps ran for a minute or so before it dropped out. I even found it virtually impossible to send an e-mail using my Google account. I think I managed just one short post about my mobile phone. But no matter, as from previous experience there were some nice Internet cafes in Marrakech. But of course, I couldn’t find it and all I found was a grotty place, where the computers were virtually unusable. These days, who needs an Internet cafe? Only those in trouble.
I should say there was a nice computer for guests to use in the hotel, but it had the most complicated keyboard I’d ever seen. I couldn’t find the @-sign and it just turned me off everything.
I then booked a tour of the historic sites in the centre. I had been told it would be 400 Moroccan dinars, when I booked it, as I’d have to pay for two people, but in the morning, the guide wanted 400 each for me and my non-existent companion. I also found the tour would be just me and the guide.
That was it! I don’t like being ripped-off and I can afford to take a stand, but others perhaps cannot, so I told the guide where to go in no uncertain terms.
Marrakech was also depressing me, as it wasn’t the place I remembered and i couldn’t seem to find a nice cafe for a drink anywhere outside of the riad.
So as I didn’t want to be trapped there, I did what I always do. I cut my misery and took a taxi for the airport to get a flight home. I had checked that seats were available on easyJet, so perhaps I could be in London by nightfall.
The Anonymous Widower 