I have the best mammy Eva!
Who tells Dr Eva what to do? Her mother, of course. In this hilarious travelogue, the weight loss guru tells of her adventures in Marrakech
IT’S been 20 years since me and my mother went on holiday together, just the two of us. It was something we used to do before I got married and had my boys. The last time it was a Nile cruise in Egypt... but the question was, would this trip to Marrakech in Morocco, a city I have been dying to visit for years, be plain sailing or would we have to negotiate some choppy waters?
We are booked into the Kenzi Menara Palace Resort & Spa with Sunway and I have decided we should take individual rooms. I am in need of some rest and my own space, and spending 24/7 together could challenge our mother-daughter relationship.
Suitably refreshed after a comfortable first night, I rise at dawn... My mum, Kirsti, is sleeping, so I grab the opportunity to catch the stunn-ing morning dusk by myself... and then breakfast.
Beyond the standard selection in one corner is an interesting white soup – soup d’orge au lait – barely soup with milk. Next to it is Harira Marrakchia – spicy soup Marrakech-style and a salad bar with shredded white, red cabbage, grated carrots, green peppers, tomatoes and what looks like harrissa paste. You don’t usually see that in international hotels. I want some fibre and I fill a side-plate with the cabbage selection and top it up with creamed sliced mushrooms. After filling myself up on fibre I try a bit of the brown spicy soup which, alas, was not that spicy or tasty.
All of which makes me a little sleepy, so I have a snooze, before heading off to the swimming pool around 11am – I want to increase my Vit-D levels. While trying to settle in my sunbed I am tempted to sunbathe
topless as another of my pet hates are white lines! When I mention this to my mother she reminds me that we are in a Muslim country and that I could end up in jail!
I call my waiter to ask him, and, to my delight, he grants me my topless rights (this was a French colony after all and is still very popular with the French).
After a day around the pool, we head for the old town of Medina for dinner. A friend back in Ireland recommended a nice French restaurant and, although we are told it is 45 minutes from the hotel, I make a reservation and we book a taxi for the very reasonable price of 170 dirham (€17). After only 10 minutes our taxi stops and tells us that he is going to direct us to the restaurant. It’s 8pm and dark when we exit our taxi in the middle of Medina. I ask our driver if it’s safe – my mother has been asking me the same thing – and why can he not bring us to the door but he says the streets are too narrow.
We finally arrive, after a few inquiries, at a huge black door and a golden plate indicating that this is Villa Flore. Behind it is a beautiful hall covered with marble and dark antique furniture. We are directed further into a beautiful courtyard in the middle of the house through castiron framed glass doors. Classic soft music fills the room and we are seated around a glass table. Unbelievable. The menu is limited to five starters, mains and desserts. I choose millefeuille d’aubergine et de batata and my mother takes Moroccan salad. We choose a Moroccan white wine Medaillon which becomes our white of choice for the rest of our sejour. For the mains we take couscous with vegetables and lamb confit with garlic and rosemary. Everything is delicious and our total bill is just under 700 dirham (€70) and we leave 10% tip. This is a small riad with five rooms but mainly operates as a restaurant.
THIS being Marrakech, we must try the shops, so the next day Mustafa, our taxi driver, who we have now commissioned for the whole trip on the i nstructions of my mother, has recommended a governmentowned artisan shop which has different departments over its three floors, ranging from jewellery to carpets. I am taken by the furniture, but it is, of course, too big to bring home. The salesman is trying his best to sell us something but his efforts are not paid off. Believe it or not, I am not good at haggling! Mustafa’s patience is endless and he takes us from one shop to another and he waits patiently outside. My mother feels safe knowing Mustafa is nearby.
We are particularly interested in lights and lamps as I have decided to bring some back to Ireland to decorate my ‘Moroccan room.’ I need to remind my mother several times, though, that it’s our first day in the shops and that we do not need to buy anything. On our way back I want to stop at a café that is selling kebabs (healthy version made with pitta bread!). My mother refuses to eat anything though due to hygienic reasons only to change her mind and order chips as she believes frying in oil has killed the germs.
Jardin Majorelle was also on my ‘must see’ list before leaving Ireland. This garden, now one of the most visited sites in Morocco was bought by Yves Saint Laurent and his lover and business partner Pierre Bergé in 1980. Together they saved it from becoming a hotel complex and developed it to its current glory.
I have always admired Yves Saint Laurent and can still remember my first and only Yves Saint Laurent black linen suit my mother bought me during my student years. It had the oversized padded shoulders typical of the 80s! Recently my mother also gave me an Yves Saint Laurent pendant she used to wear. I loved it as a little girl because it contained a cream perfume which made her smell so lovely. I remember like yesterday, I must have been 5 or 6, one evening when she picked me up from playschool and one of my playmates ran towards her (they all admired her as she always looked nice) and started looking and touching that pendant. I was furious. How dare she ? – she’s my mum!
We arrived around 10 o’clock and it was still pretty quiet. In the morning sun the contrast of colours and particularly the striking cobalt blue (now named Majorelle blue after French painter Jacques Majorelle who, in 1923, bought this land and subsequently dedicated 40 years to create this oasis) against the deep green of the different plants was stunning. My mother was particularly fascinated as painting is one of her hobbies. One of the narrow paths led us to the Museum of Berber Art which was opened in 2011 and is now home to the personal Berber collection of Yves Saint Laurent and Pierre Bergé. No need to say how much we both enjoyed especially looking at the Berber jewellery. Taking pictures was forbidden and I had a hard time supervising my mother not to use her iPad. Once we had seen everything we visited a number of shops near the entrance. I even ended up buying a multicoloured floor pillow – obviously after a long haggle!
Morocco has long been a magnet for the rich and famous and Richard Branson has a place in the Atlas Mountains which we just had to visit... Our driver, Mustafa (who my mother was now considering taking home with her) obliged. The drive meant negotiating a whirly mountain road and my mother couldn’t even talk she was so scared. The butler greeted us at the gate and took us through the sumptuous mansion to the swimming pool where we sipped white wine, took in the beautiful Atlas Mountains and promised that we would spend a couple of days here on our next visit.
No visit to Marrakech is complete without a visit to a hamamm (Turkish bath) and as the rains had eventually come, we repaired to the Hotel Sultana Spa, which boasts five riads each with its own individual theme. eg. African riad. We were taken first to a hot (steam) room and laid on the warm marble bench where we were washed with black soap. Then onto another room for a scrubdown with an exfoliating mitt which gave a wonderful almost painful experience. After this half torture we were allowed to relax around the small pool with a mug of mint tea. We both enjoyed it but concluded that Finnish saunas are still better.
In the evening, temperatures dropped to 8 degrees and my mother had the audacity to say ‘it’s freezing.’ That’s when I checked the temperature in Finland, minus 11. Our room was warm and cosy and we slept well with sweet dreams.
On our last of seven days in Marrakech we visited the luxurious Palais Namaskar hotel in Marrakech, another Mustafa recommendation.
The decor and the outside lights and pools were magnificent. Our dinner was tasty but it’s the atmosphere and decor that I remember.
We planned to go there in daylight but ran out off time. I want to stay there when I return during my next golfing holiday to Marrakech (I need to learn how to play golf first) and thats when I will be going to do sand board surfing…as well!
If that sounds strenuous, it’s nothing compared with keeping up and behind my 78-year-old mum. I hardly got a rest and am now in need of a real holiday.