Intense Times in the Land of Tagines

conditions that even Accuweather could not prepare us for. A heat wave in the vicinity of the Western Sahara makes it easy to understand why the dromedary would need to be able to drink 113l of water in 15 minutes.

“Intense” is the best adjective for Marrakech — the heat; the people; the peddle motorbikes being driven down a pedestrian alley while the driver sends a text; the reptiles and monkeys in the Jemaa el-Fna; the souks; and avocado and orange juice to wash it all down.

Although few of the merchants in the souks could speak any English, almost all could yell “fish and chips” to anyone who appeared to have even remote connections to the damp island up north.

After numerous attempts to set this misconception straight, we encountered some actual Brits in a local apothecary’s shop. Whereas the heat had definitely affected our team morale, our lifelong experience with the African sun had left our skin in good stead to deal with all 43 degrees that Marrakech was throwing at us. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the real Brits, who appeared to be blushing a lot of the time.

If ever you find yourself in the area, do spend a day or two in Essaouira. The Greecelike beach town on the northeastern Atlantic provided a welcome change of pace.

Our home for the night was across the alleyway from a bakery and the morning aromas of baking bread were a welcome side dish to our sea-view terrace breakfast.

We returned to Marrakech after “a holiday” from our holiday and spent our last day doing parkour on the walls around the Koutoubia and eating fig ice cream under the faux humidity of mist sprayers at Café Kif Kif. Then we packed our bags, along with the eight tagines that had taken up residence on our hips (totally worth it), and headed home. — © Jessica Lawrence

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