Marrakech & The Humidity That Followed Me
okay, so marrakech. it’s…a lot. i didn’t really plan to end up here, honestly. it was a last-minute thing, a detour after a gig in *tenerife fell through. the drummer before me bailed, said something about needing to “find himself” which, honestly, is code for “forgot to renew his passport.” anyway, i’m a touring session drummer, so i’m used to chaos. i thrive on it, actually. but this…this is a different kind of chaos.
first off, the air. i just checked and it’s…like wearing a warm, damp blanket. all the time. the weather report said fifteen point zero eight degrees celsius, feels like fifteen point one, pressure’s a hundred and fifteen, humidity’s ninety-four percent. ninety-four! it’s like breathing soup. and the sea level is a hundred and fifteen, ground level is ninety-nine. i don’t even know what that means, but it sounds ominous. i’m pretty sure my drumsticks are starting to warp.
i’ve been staying in this riad in the medina. it’s beautiful, all tiled courtyards and orange trees, but also…loud. constantly. there’s a guy who practices the oud at all hours, and a rooster who seems to have a personal vendetta against sleep. if you get bored, essaouira is just a few hours by bus, apparently. someone told me the beaches are amazing, but also full of pushy vendors.
“Don’t drink the orange juice from the guys with the carts,” old man Habib warned me, spitting dramatically into the dust. “They water it down. Go to the juice place near the Jemaa el-Fnaa square. It’s more expensive, but your stomach will thank you.”
the jemaa el-fnaa is…intense. snake charmers, storytellers, food stalls, people trying to sell you everything under the sun. i swear, i was offered a monkey to hold. a monkey. i politely declined. i’m a drummer, not a primate wrangler. i did try the tagine, though. it was pretty good, but i overheard someone saying that you have to be careful where you eat, because food poisoning is apparently a common souvenir.
i spent yesterday wandering around the souks, getting hopelessly lost in the labyrinthine alleys. it’s a shopper’s paradise, if you’re good at haggling. i’m terrible at haggling. i ended up paying way too much for a leather bag. i think the vendor saw me coming. i’ve been reading up on the history of the place, it’s fascinating. apparently, it was founded in 1062 by the almoravids. Here's a link to a good history overview.
i also stumbled upon this tiny little cafe, tucked away down a side street. the coffee was amazing - strong, sweet, and served with a side of mint tea. i’m a bit of a coffee snob, so i appreciate a good cup. i heard that the cafe is a favorite hangout for local artists and musicians. Check out some reviews on Yelp.
honestly, i’m exhausted. the heat, the noise, the constant hustle…it’s draining. but it’s also…exciting. it’s a place that gets under your skin. i’m not sure i’d want to live here, but i’m glad i came. i’m thinking of checking out the bahia palace* tomorrow. i read on TripAdvisor that it’s stunning. Here's a link to the TripAdvisor page.
and if anyone needs a drummer for a gig in morocco, hit me up. i’m available. just…maybe bring a dehumidifier. and earplugs. and a really good bargaining chip. Here's a local forum for musicians.
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