Marrakech

Bear with me, this keyboard has no e - i have to copy and paste it everytime - and a sticky u so this may take a while. Just my luck that they happen to be vowels...

We arrived in Marrakech four days ago but it feels like a week at least. The heat and dust hang heavy in the air here and things rush past you at high speeds - people, motor bikes, donkeys - sometimes you feel like you are walking through one big construction sight.

We spent the first day wandering around and did well not to get lost, eventually staggering upon Djeema - el Fna, the huge, totally overwhelming market place where snakes are charmed, run-ins are had with monkeys and all the magic happens. Numbered food stalls sizzle and smoke and men in what look like doctors coats usher you in with intoxicating smells, some men are nice - no. 114, 21 and 81 (we heart 81) - some grab you, generally offend and won't let go - no. 118. But all have fantastic banter. They claim to be from obscure places such as Ipswich and Stoke on Trent and it seems that Slough's reputation has reached that darkest corners of North Africa's biggest market. They use enormous chilli peppers to mimic phones to call their 'friend' Jamie Oliver, know who killed Archie in eastenders and have, on frequent occassions asked us 'what's occurin?' Such a sense of humour and proof of the power and reach of global media. We updated their repetoire by explaining 'compare the meerkat.com' which they eagerly welcomed. As we left the square tonight Kate shouted to the boys on 81 - 'nice to see you!' Their response was of course 'to see you nice!' They never miss a trick.

It was in this night that we had our first experience of Marrakech's infamous Souks - a maze of dark, under cover market stalls which simultaneously twist, turn and stretch on forever. From the depths of the sandals and brass lanterns you can hear phrases like 'cheaper than Primark', 'fish and chips' and, perhaps the best yet, 'girl who looks like a boy'. (For those of you who don't know I have had my hair chopped off - needless to say, it was a proud moment.) The souks also provided another proud moment involving an old man and a lot of running. He was following us for about half an hour trying to flog his cigarettes and no matter what we did we could not shift him. And so we ran. Ducking under hanging lanterns, dodging weaving scooters and leaping over stray kittens we managed to lose him. We out-souked him and we felt good about it (it also brought upon the first sighting of a "sweat tash"). Unfortunately it meant we got lost...very, very lost. We were spat back out of the souks hours later after aimless wandering far from where we entered but in sunlight none the less. The souks also provided our first haggling moment, ellie did a cracking job of it with a pair of sandals. Bargain. Unfortunately they gave her an open, weeping sore after five minutes so they have been thrown away. Small victories.

For our last day in Marrakech we treated ourselves to a local Hammam (a Moroccon massage and scrub down) with the women who clean our hostel. It really was a treat. we arrived, stripped off to our bikini bottoms (I was in my leapord print wagini bikini) and were doused, scrubbed and massaged surrounded by naked Moroccon women all afternoon. It was such a wonderful experience. You don't see as many women out working in the day and the cafes, stalls and souks are manned by, well, men, so it was just great to see women sitting together, laughing and gossiping, scrubbing eachother down. When it is over, they cover up and return home. It seems like the perfect sanctuary to the hot and heavy air. That was until it all kicked off when one woman stole another woman's water - a local hoarder, we were later told. I have never heard a dispute like it, shrill shouting that reveberated around the tiled walls. Relaxing time was over for now.

The final afternoon in Marrakech has now been named 'Chick-gate'. We found some chicks in the market which cost 50p each (many of our friends and family will alraedy be able to gess where this is going), they were jostling for space in boxes stacked on top of each other, all you could see in the lower boxes was little bits of fluff sticking out from the holes. A distressing sight. What with Kate's intense love of anything small and fluffy (a word that she feels patronises the chicks) and me and ellies ability to be persuaded into doing anything we quickly hatched (I'm sorry) a plan to buy a chick, raise it as our own and call it "Mouse" (Kate has always wanted to call an animal another animals name). We passed the chicks four times today. everytime we would re-assess the plan and persuade each other that this was definitely, definitely a good idea. Off we went to buy "Mouse", by this point it's fair to say, I had my doubts but it's hard to fight ellie and kate's enthusiasm and reassurance that this was going to be great! we picked our chick, got some seeds, ellie handed over the money with glee - this was actually going to happen, the dream would be realised - and we walked away with a chicken in a shoe box, chirping uncontrollably. So, for the record, we bought a chick. Unfortunately we were only told then that we had to buy two chicks because she needed a non-human friend...we were not cut out for that. One would have been cute, two - unmanageable. And so we walked away. He then offered us drugs thinking that to want to buy one chick in Marrakech for a pet clearly meant your head was elsewhere. He's got a point.

Ashamed and distressed, we walked away, hearing the little chirps fade away into the dusty night. Regret... however we have come back to a nest on our air conditioning and a little bird outside or room waiting to be let back in.

It is definitely time to leave Marrakech, what with the creepy man and the chick - it's all been too much. But what an amazing city, unlike anywhere else we have known. One souk seller told me it was "the city of colour" and i can think of no better way to describe it to you.

We are ready to embark on our three day trek, one mule up, one chick down.