Amalay Hotel Marrakech
87 Bd Mohamed V, Gueliz Marrakech, 40000, Morocco
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Trust in Allah, but tie up your camel!
... two young Berber men with a broken down car in the middle of the desert. They flagged us down and we eventually came to a mutual understanding that one of them wanted a ride to the next village. One of them spoke limited English and no one in our party speaks Arabic, Berber, or French. I scanned them and figured that they were not carrying any weapons and seemed desperate for a ride so Dorrie piled in the back with the kids, ...
Across the Atlas to the Real Morocco
... getting hazzahed into a cramped bus, stopping at every carpet shop along the way, and fending off aggressive touts. So having gotten a feel for the country we opted to rent a car in Marrakech and drop it off in Fez. Our DIY excursion should last 4 to 6 days. Since all of the travel guides are weak on this sort of adventure I'll try to provide enough detial so folks can follow in our footsteps. After somehow making it out of the mazes of Marrakech, we ...
All Roads Lead to Marrakech
... originals and not copies. Hopefully US Customs will buy that line too.
We proceeded to get lost in the medina. Once in a while the narrow paths would open up and we thought we had made it back to the main square but it proved to be a decoy. We happened on a shop where I fell to my weakness of hand-painted ceramic plates. I found a very nice porcelin plate with a very intracate blue on white Berber design.
"how much?"
This opened up a conversation of the usual ...
Marrakech, a little confusing
... to get to the North side where the gardens were located. I headed in that direction, but decided to make a quick stop for a hearty brunch. I saw a little cafe as I walked out of a covered alley, that seemed well supported by the local clientele – always a good sign I thought. So I asked for their special by pointing at what the guy at the table was eating when I walked in. It was a hearty bean soup served from a huge pot sitting on top of ...
Marrakech or Bust..!
... to Prayer – but not the Friday service – obviously held inside the airport! My heart rate slowed down and once we were cleared by the emigration official, we boldly stepped off towards the train station.
After a stop to change some Euros to Dirhams and attempting to get more Moroccan money from several ATM’s (still haven’t solved this problem yet…), we purchased our train ticket to Marrakesh. Here is where our ...



