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In the city of Aladdin

Updated - 10/3/2010 - beta.thehindu.com.

Thirty-three hours of missed connections, delays and almost losing my luggage should have left me hallucinating. As I finally sat in the taxi to be driven to Marrakech (Morocco) from Casablanca airport, my tired eyes refused to close. Wide empty roads broken sporadically by the presence of over zealous cops ensured the two-and-a-half hour journey took till eternity. The deafening silence of a midnight blue inky sky did little to alleviate my fears of travelling at 3 a.m. in a country where I knew no one. But perhaps it was the presence of a larger than life moon chasing the car that kept me sane.

Nothing quite prepares you for the sights and sounds of Morocco. It is a tourist’s haven with its easily manageable souks (street shops) beckoning everyone to come and buy. English is not the preferred language and if you are not conversant in French or Arabic, constant miming, gesticulating or some broken Spanish may see you through. Bargaining is a way of life here and in fact has been raised to the status of an art form. Conducted over endless glasses of their famous mint tea, especially in the carpet shops, it can take anything from an hour to two days to strike the right deal.

beta.thehindu.com/arts/magazine/article201124.ece

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