My Marrakesh

Marrakech: and Zara Home tribulations

The blogging girl slipped through the doors of the new Zara Home in downtown Marrakech. She was instantly surrounded by pretty ethnic chic, with bold pops of color.  She made her way through the aisles, stroking a coverlet here, admiring a glass vase there.  Everything so enticing.

On her way down the marble stairs, a large and perfect image loomed before her.    She reached into her bag and pulled out her camera.  Click, click.

Stop! Cried a voice.

She looked down the stairs.  A burly security guard glared up at her.

No photos allowed!  Erase them from your camera immediately!   He said, in a not-so-nice voice.

But I want to post them on my website to encourage people to visit Zara Home,  she protested.

I repeat, erase those photos immediately!   He shouted, threatening.

They wound up before the check out counter where a slight girl who looked no older than 22, listened to the security guard, shrugged her shoulders in a woebegone way, and said nothing.

The blogging girl slid her camera back into her purse.  Then, she looked defiantly at the security guard, and she marched out the store....

PS  See more Moroccan-influenced Zara Home photos right here at Sandman Chronicles.  (He is one of the sweetest bloggers around, too.)

P.P.S.  For Peacock Pavilions three vintage Saarinen tables like the ones in these images were purchased from the Italian Cultural Attache in Marrakech a few months back.  Another story for another time........

Marrakech's Mama Ti Lee: or where to eat in the medina

She loved surprises.  She loved unwrapping presents.  She loved silver linings. 

She liked to walk down the twisty side streets of the Marrakech medina, away from the crowds, away from the noise, away from the bright lights.  It was there that she was likely to stumble upon treasure:  the perfect little store, the darling little cafe, the quiet little riad. Each discovery like the lacquered insides of a plain wooden box.

She was with her friend, the photographer-of-roses, when she first discovered the secret of Mama Ti Lee.  Tucked away down a narrow street, Mama Ti Lee's doors had just opened.   

The soothing greys and lavenders of the interiors were a visual break from the city's saturated reds, pinks and oranges.  There was sleek metal seating.

And a flash of yellow on an open window sill....

The  photographer-of-roses sat with Serge, the  English-speaking French co-proprietor in the cooling interior courtyard.

Then they wandered up to the roof terrace where they found cushions sidled up to low tables.  Oh, to lounge on the leather carpet with cold hibiscus juice in hand! 

But more Moroccan chic was to come......because there were beds (!) on the terrace, too, where evenings could be whiled away, immersed in talk of everything and nothing.

Cecile, the charming chef and co-proprietor made the most delicious light meal.  It really was far too pretty to eat but greedily, they ate it anyway....

And the blogging girl in boxing shoes thought the homemade granita was a particularly refreshing finishing treat.

After they left, she realized that she had forgotten to ask about Mama Tee Li, the mysterious person after whom the restaurant was named.   Hmmm...it seemed she would have to return to find out....Perhaps, you'll come too?

Mama Ti Lee Derb Laarsa, #13, Riad Zitoun Jdid, Marrakech medina, 024.38.17.52, mamatilee@yahoo.fr

Open evenings.

Marrakech: and Thomas Cook City Spots Guidebook

Eeek!  She had had a book published! 

Oh my, that pseudo-Moroccan girl clearly was prone to exaggeration.  She most definitely had not had a book published.  But she had updated a guidebook on Marrakech:  Thomas Cook City Spots, to be exact.  She was told it was on the book stands on this very day.  And she assumed that her name was in tiny letters somewhere inside. 

In addition to oodles of phone and address confirmations, highlights of the guide book updating process included: 

* Testing home made ice creams in ice cream parlors.  Demanding second tastes just to make absolutely sure of quality.  Putting only her most favorite in the guidebook.

* Loitering in gorgeous riad guesthouses, pretending to be a potential guest, meanwhile stealthily taking undercover notes

* Spending ridiculous sums of money while updating the shopping section.  Rationalizing the purchase of approximately 63 pairs of Moroccan sequined leather slippers.  Sigh.

* Sneakily slipping in a few of her own photos.  (shhh....don't tell the publishers!)

* Observing whether the snake charmers on Jemma el-Fnaa square were truly able to charm the snakes or whether the snakes had a skeptical look in their eyes.

Needless to say, it was arduous, and it was harrowing, and the blogging girl barely made it out alive.  But it was all for the good of her beloved new homeland. (Isn't this when the national anthem is supposed to start playing in the background?)

Marrakech Royal Golf Club: and come one, come all...

Oh, the weather was fine and they decided to have a spot of lunch at Marrakech's Royal Golf club with a group of British friends.  How very exciting and la-tee-da.  There was even a crown on the sign.    

In preparing for this momentous occasion, six year-old Skylar deemed that a change of clothing was needed.  You see, she had been wearing this....

But something more elegant was required just in case royals happened to be dropping in.  Skylar did some deep curtsies and kissed her cat's paw for practice and then promptly changed into this...

Now the men in the group had all left early for the Royal Golf club to do something truly ridiculous......play 18 holes of golf.  Frankly, it made no sense at all to the blogging girl but she kept quiet like a dutiful little wife. Cough.

The  girl and her rascally brood arrived at the Royal Marrakech Golf club.  There were no royals in sight but there were golfers everywhere in silly footwear, carrying primary colored bags . 

But she had to admit it was a beautiful golf course.  It almost made her want to take up golfing.  Almost.

The others had already arrived and frosty Casablanca beers were being served. Visiting Grandpa Joel exclaimed that this was his kind of place.

It was all quite casual, including the menu.  There was a fab salad buffet and entirely acceptable mixed grill options for about $12.  And there were even options for the kiddies.  Needless to say, the parents were very pleased.

The deserts were particularly good.  The blogging girl was glad to see that the monarchy liked profiteroles with ice cream.  It was nice to know that they had something important in common.

After lunch, the children played very British rugby and then ran around like a pack of wild hyenas.

Except for the littlest one.  He was exhausted from all that golfing....

Royal Golf de Marrakech, Ancienne Route de d'Ourzazate, Tel: 024-40-98-28

Please note that anyone may go to the Royal Golf to shoot pool and cause a ruckus play golf or enjoy a meal. Membership is not required.  Those royals.......such lovely, equal opportunity manners.

Budget Travel: and where to eat, shop and play in Marrakech

Oh my...the story that I did for Budget Travel is out!  The April issue, starting on page 62....... eight pages of where to eat, shop, and play in Marrakech with amazing photos by Jason Lowe.  There's even a full page portrait of this little olive farmer/blogger (wearing mascara since, it was a special occasion.....:-) )

I loved following in the footsteps of bloggers like Design Sponge and Chocolate and Zucchini for this Budget Travel series on bloggers giving tips on their cities.   Special shouts  of appreciation to super cool BT Editor  Erik Torkells and extra friendly and *smart* Photo Editor Amy Lundeen.  They were just fantastic to work with. 

If you haven't checked it out already, Budget Travel also has a most excellent blog.  Do read it right here.

Marrakech: and do come in....

You see, Moroccans intrinsically understood something very basic:  the power of paint.  Even in the smallest villages, doors were painted in fantastical colors and designs.  It was......poetry...or it was Prozac.  Or it was both..... 

The blogging girl admired their bold confidence, their happy curly-Qs, their it's-only-paint-for-goodness-sake nature.  She was fond of their fondness of turquoise and pink... 

How was it, she wondered, that everyone else had become so....... boring....?

P.S.  Do take a peek here to see the lovely vintage Moroccan wedding blanket (or wedding quilt) that darling Barbara in Australia purchased from me.  I have a new stash of wedding blankets, in case you would like to have a little sparkley glamour, too.  Drop me a line:  maryam at mtds.com

Marrakech and the peaceful chicken, or where to eat with kids

Oh she did not condone war in any shape or form.  So when she heard about Marrakech's Rotisserie de la Paix or the Rotisserie of Peace, she felt it was her pacifist obligation to investigate further.    She was hungry and so that helped, too.

Given the high profile nature of their outing, the blogging girl's daughter, Skylar, decided to dress the part.  She was convinced that the Rotisserie of Peace was quite similar to the United Nations.

Undoubtedly the High Commissioner of Rotisserie Chicken would approve of her shoes.

The Rotisserie of Peace was hidden behind walls in Marrakech's new city of Gueliz.  They walked through the doors and found a secret garden. 

There were flowers.

And there were plants.

Most importantly, there was a large enclosed grassy space for children to play tag without drawing the un-peaceful ire of their parents.

They sat in the garden at the Moroccan tiled tables on the Moroccan tiled floors.  They were served Morocco's famous olives while they ogled the menu.

There was no squabbling over sausage and lamb chops:  they ordered conflict-resolving mixed grills -- it was the best they had had in Marrakech.

Thankfully they saved a wee bit of room for desert.

They rubbed their full bellies contentedly. Then they asked the waiter to put the leftovers in a bag.  It was for the pet lion in the garden.  He was a most docile and charming creature.  Just as as you would expect at a peaceful rotisserie....

Rotisserie de la Paix

68 rue Yougoslavie

Marrakech Morocco

Tel:  024-433118 or 024-43 22 72

Mixed grill for about 8 euros

Marrakech's Kasbek: and modern Moroccan chic

Well she knew Kasbek was special as soon as she saw the glamorous curtain and the stunning Moroccan tiled floor from Popham Design....

The boutique was small-ish but large enough to have  secrets hidden away in gauzy Mauritanian fabrics.

The special-est of all were the caftans.......The jersey ones were particularly slinky and body-conscious.

And the vintage caftans had her channeling her inner Talitha Getty....

There was fabulous ethnic jewelery to wear with your caftans (or, umm, your T-shirt and jeans). 

Oh, tribal baubles paired with a cinched, airy caftan.  So fresh and stylish.....

The lovely proprietress, Rebecca, an Australian painter, was woman-ing the fort.  The other half of Kasbek's duo, Kassie, was sipping mint tea in Tangier temporarily.

The blogging girl knew she'd be back.......to Kasbek....  Maybe you'd like to go, too?

Kasbek Marrakech Medina 216, rue Riad Zitoun Jdid +212 63775690 studio@kasbekaftans.com Open 7 days a week, 10-7

Marrakech: and what to do with children?

It was Sunday, and so the American family set off.........They were headed for Marrakech's wee little fun fair, for wee little fun kids.  It's called Kawkab Jeux. 

There were tickets to be bought.

The small girl, Skylar, kicked off her shoes.

The blogging Mom also took off her hightops, well, just because.

There was air hockey, pool, and arcade games.  And even the tiniest in the group managed to have a grand time.

There were huge jungle gyms to climb and balls to be thrown.

For the very brave, there were even wild stallions to ride.

It was worth the price of admission just to have a go at the world famous Jum Ping.

As you can see, Jum Ping was only for the highly skilled. (Grown ups should not attempt this without supervision.)

When she tried to get into the rides for the "big kids," the genie with the magic lantern looked suspiciously at the blogging Mom and sent her away. Sniff.........

When it all got too exhausting, parents and their stuffed pets could sit for a spell.

Sadly, after an hour or two it was time to head home. But not before sagely partaking of nutritious food groups.....

Kawkab Jeux 1, Rue Imam Chafaï - Kawkab Centre Harti, Marrakech Tel: 024 43 82 29

http://www.kawkab-jeux.com/

My Marrakesh is better than yours....

My Marrakesh is better than yours......Look, they made me say it - Budget Travel Magazine.  You see, back in early October, the cool Editor of Budget Travel Magazine, Erik Torkells, asked me if I would participate in a series that they have called, My _____[city] is better than yours, where bloggers talk up the city they live in.     The other bloggers who have participated in the series are Clotilde of Chocolate and Zucchini on Paris, Grace of Design Sponge on Brooklyn, and Daniel of Shanghai List on Shanghai.  Ahem, so either Budget Travel is slumming it with me or my mother is paying them. (Thanks, Mom.  You are the greatest!)

The feature is my 2,500 word love letter to the city of Marrakech:  where to eat, play, and shop.  It will be out in the March 2008 issue:  eight pages, including four pages of pictures.  Last Thursday, Budget Travel's super friendly Photo Editor, Amy Lundeen, flew accomplished photographer Jason Lowe and a photographer's assistant to Marrakech for a week to take photos for this spread, including a portrait of this little blogger/olive farmer.  Color junkie that I am, I picked the Majorelle Garden for the portrait.  Photos aside, it was a fun opportunity to stroll around among the cactus with blow dried hair :-)

Note:  Budget Travel has a blog, too.  Check it out here.

Take a peek at this great article in the New York Daily News about Marrakech's markets.  It was written by Jim Farber with photos by the talented Judy Tillinger.  Yay!

PS Thank you so much for all your kind words on our Peacock Pavilions guest house.  I really hope it will be special and that I will be lucky enough to meet some of you *in real life* (What a concept.)