Marrakech makes history with the longest blog entry!!!

Sleeping in bunk beds always brings back childhood memories - especially the really high ones - where you could jump from - or in my case nowadays as an adult nearly break your neck or roll an ankle if you land awkwardly. After safety climbing down from Mount Grande bunk bed, Pia and I munched on a banquet for breakfast. The guy just kept on coming out with plates and plates of carbohydrates and most importantly...2 eggs. There was no stopping us, we were munching machines. From the intense consumption we headed to the terrace to enjoy some digestion time and stock up on some sunrays. There we attempted to plan the remainder of our trip... We managed to organise the next 2 days. After booking our accommodation and meeting the resident pet, Timmy the turtle... We headed into the maze of streets that made up Marrakesh's Jemma El Fna Bazaar. Already by mid morning the stalls were decked out and the streets were filling fast with tourists mingled amongst the locals. Firstly we found a rooftop terrace where we hydrated ourselves with our first tea of the day and came up with a game plan - lose the map, let's go wander and get lost!! As we headed into the windy streets of the bazaar our senses were placed into overload - the colours, sounds and smells. Stalls filled with textiles, jewelry, leather shoes, bags... Random knickknacks! As we wandered you had to beware of the couriers pulling their carts which happened to be the width of the pathway. A few near misses were had. The first stall we ventured to was filled with funky rings, silver bracelets and lavishly beaded necklaces. We were looking for a particular ring for our friend, however, our own purchases had to be made. Here we met Sharadi, who was a rotund Moroccan with a cheeky smile. We scanned his stall from top to bottom since earlier in the morning I'd realized I'd only been sporting one ear ring, so a new pair had to be purchased. I'm not the most enthusiastic barter but in our jovial mood, Pia and I managed to get ourselves a good deal - more so for her bracelet. I even managed a free magnet for the growing fridge magnet collection. Onward bound - further in to the midst of the souk. It was here we came across the very eccentric naturopath! Instantly he was posing for photos with Pia... And showing us his strange collection of products. It was the jars of spices and 'who knows what' that grabbed my attention - so into the stall we headed. As the curtain was pulled back - jars filled the room from ceiling to floor - spices, herbs and pigments in every colour of the rainbow could be seen. Candy for the eyeballs! After receiving a mini lecture on ever herb and its benefits under the sun we walked away with remedies for sleep deprivation and sinuses. Oh, I can't forget the natural bright red lipstick pot we scored - I look forward to seeing you wear that on our next night out, Pia!

From there we wandered further into the unknown. We certainly weren't in tourist central anymore as more donkeys and locals past by us. As we walked aimlessly we manage to come across some orange trees, where I was determined to grab some fruit. It provided some light entertainment for the locals watching me jump and do running leaps- even more so as I tried to eat the horrendously sour orange. It didn't last more than one bite - to the donkeys it went. By this point we had no idea where we were so we hailed a taxi. With our limited linguistic skills of the 3 common languages of Morocco, we tried to pin point where we were, indicating one particular point on the map, only to end up being driven back to where we started... Argh!

When all else fails - eat!! Luckily we came across the restaurant recommended to us the night before so we stocked up on some delicious Moroccan cuisine. There we consumed and enjoyed some entertaining people watching. Now our batteries were recharged we headed across the square where Pia got targeted by a henna artist. The lady gripped onto Pia's arm as if she was the last white tourist in Morocco and began tattooing away. Pia eventually pried her arm off the lady and walked on. At this point Pia made it perfectly clear she wasn't paying and the artist, in a huff, messily scrapped the henna partially off Pia's arm. This then led to the next helpful but soon to be unhelpful Moroccan scenario with a shop keeper kindly offering to clean the dye off . In summary his attempts to sell us clothes, resulted in Pia being decked out in traditional Saharian dress which then led to some unwanted attention...It would take more than 1 million camels to buy this girl. As we bolted out of the store ready to karate chop anyone who approached us, we headed back to the hostel to come up with a game plan for the evening. Freshened up and an extra layer of warmth we headed out for round 2. After an impromptu photoshoot down the deserted streets of the bazaar, we headed in search of a pashmina for Miss Brasher. However we managed to find everything but that! On our second trip through the bazaar we found a huge jewelry store where we discovered rings made for gouging out eyeballs, an antique store riddled with every camera and old school advertisement since 1920, a man offering his hand in marriage and the souk pet shop which should have been closed down by the RSPCA. However we did get to play with a chameleon and have a chat to the shop keeper. Funnily enough he insisted it was mainly tourists from Europe who bough chameleons and tortoises for pets. Our first thoughts were how do they get them pass border security!

Tea break time! At this point lounging in the cafe, Pia spotted the mountain of beanies for sale... In true backpacker style I thought I would embrace my hippy roots where I agreed to purchase my new favourite accessory - a rainbow coloured beanie!! Poor Pia having to travel with hippy Alisha wearing such a monstrosity on her head for the next 10 days! In the end we never found a pashmina for Pia - thankfully there is always Fez. As the sun began to set we strolled back into the main plaza where the food stalls were setting up for another evening of feasting. As we were not yet ready for indulging we found ourselves mingled amongst the numerous horses and carriages. There we chilled and took in another good hour of people watching until we were ready for another gorging fest. On our way to the food stalls we got distracted by the people fishing for coke bottles and stopped to watch, then... the man appeared with his pet monkey! Instantly I jumped 2 metres away as this monkey leapt onto the back of a guys shoulders. As we slowly backed away Pia noticed the monkey do quite a generous poo which landed in the guys hoodie. Unfortunately no one noticed . As my Good Samaritan deed of the day I headed over to tell the guy, however, he didn't understand what I was saying and I was quite jumpy since I've never been the same around monkeys since Thailand... the pet owner kept moving closer to me with his giant monkey.

We never found out how long it took for the guy to find the monkey poo - since I ran off screaming - all we do know was the guy looked pretty terrified after I tried to tell him at least 3 times there something in hoodie.

From there we laughed our way to stall 25 for dinner where we only managed a small portion of soup, mergez and tagine for dinner. On the way home we stopped at stall 71 for desert. This included piping hot cinnamon tea and Moroccan cake - which was more like thick uncooked cake batter sprinkled with coconut and ginger. There we stood around the cart, chatting to a local lad who kindly told us about life in Marrakech, whilst the old man on the otherside powered through 4 glasses of tea in under 5 minutes and even finished my drink off - Tea addiction at its peak! As we wandered home through the snake charmers, locals musicians and sale mens we were honored to witness Moroccan drag queens at their finest - ooh la la! It's surprising we made it home in one piece after such an eventful day... Like true nannas the thought of hitting the town in cool winter temps wasn't even considered and we cocooned ourselves into out bunk beds ready for the land of slumber... I'll save the 1 am wake up call we got for another time. Never a dull moment in Marrakech!