Marrakech Mayhem, Part 1: Lost

There are four levels of being lost:

1. Oh no! We're not going the same way as we did last time! But it's OK, because there's a sign telling us we're still going towards our destination, and frankly, where we are is pretty nice anyway. This variant is frequently experienced in Venice, and is known as Pleasurably Lost.
2. Hmmm. None of this looks familiar, but we've got a map that correlates to the street signs, so we can work this out. This is a feeling you might get in a large foreign city - Lost In Translation.
3. This is not good. Where the hell are the street signs? There are no other tourists around, but I've just got a feeling that if we go towards that thing, we'll get to the nice stuff. This is not a good state to be in for too long - Lost In Space.
4. Omigod omigod omigod. Everything looks the same. No signposts, no landmarks, the map isn't making sense. No tourists, people are telling me things but they want money so I can't trust them. And now there's a crowd of vultures following us. Lost In Marrakech.

Yes, we had a level 4 nightmare when we arrived in Marrakech. We hadn't taken enough notice of our Riad's neighbourhood before venturing out into the madness of this crazy Moroccan city, and we paid dearly. Our lovely host, Thierry from Bordeaux, had drawn a line on our map showing how to navigate back from the main square, but the scale was way too tiny to really help. In the end, in 11pm desperation we had to ask a shopkeeper for assistance - he delegated to a seven-year-old boy who led us through the dark alleyways for what seemed like an eternity, while suspicious characters lurked a few paces behind. At the door to our Riad, we gave him a banknote which would feed him for a week (the smallest thing we had) and he still wanted more. We were scared he and his mates would still be there waiting for us the next morning - not a nice way to spend your first night in a new city.

We had determined that things could only get better from here - and we were right. The next morning, a fantastic breakfast on the sun-drenched terrasse of the riad helped a lot, and we spent a good half hour learning the landmarks near our accommodation so as not to be flummoxed again. Suitably confident, we jumped right into the tourist circuit, taking in the Ben Youssef Medersa, a former religious academy featuring a stunning internal courtyard in the local Arabic tiles-stucco-and-wood style.

Next stop was the Musee de Marrakech, showcasing more of the extravagant interior wall ornamentation. Exterior walls usually form the streets and alleyways, so no effort is spared when it comes to decorating the internal courtyards!

Following a relaxing rooftop lunch we plunged into the exotic, colourful and pungent souks. Your nose really takes a battering in Marrakech, going from the foul smells of poorly-tuned diesel and two-stroke engines in the streets to sweet confections in the patisseries, before turning a corner and having the raw odour of tanning leather grab you in the back of the throat.

After several hours of meandering through the seemingly-endless array of glassware, carpets, pottery and random tat, we found ourselves people-watching at the amazing Djemma-al-Fna square - Marrakech's crowning glory:

And after a couple of Tagines, we headed home nice and early. It had been a much, much better day, and we didn't want to push our luck!