The visuals were amazing.
To get from the road to the houses, there were small bridges that the people built. These bridges (which Amy and Anthony wanted noting to do with) reminded us of the Indiana Jones movies. Yikes!
No washing machines in berber land....
A few more pictures...
Note the camel in the background. Luckily for the camels, Anthony wasnt fond of taking a ride.
On our way to our lunch location (Richard Branson's hotel tucked away in the Atlas Mountains), we stopped at a local store which made soap, peanut oil and a variety of other products from local peanuts. We first got a tour of how they made the project. The picture below is their "factory" where divorced woman only work to grind the peanuts into oil. We ended up trying a number of them and bought a little peanut oil for all of our cooking adventures in London.
After the peanut oil, we drove for 30 minutes to Richard Branson's hotel which was tucked away in the middle of the Atlas mountains. We had lunch on a the terrace overlooking the strange sight of an infinity pool with a poor Berber village in the backgroud.
After getting back to our hotel, we decided it was time for one final trip to the square and to the Souks for our traditional presents for family shopping. This time, the mission was an ornament, post card, stamps (which Amy and Anthony get on every trip) and then slippers for the Martin/Dolan kids (including tiny slippers for Jen and Kevin's newborn we are expecting any day now). Anthony had heard about the notorious desire for the souks shop owners to negotiate. He was ready for the challenge. Amy found the store that she liked, we went in and started trying to find the right colors, sizes, etc. When we had the three pairs or slippers, Anthony asked how much. The shop worker said 250 dirams (about $30). Anthony responded by saying that he would only pay 120 dirams. The owner came back and began lowering his price by 10 dirams. Anthony didnt budge. We bought the shoes for 120 dirams after much pleading by the shop owner. Impressive negotiation. "My hero", said Amy.
We headed to our final meal in Marrakech - a traditional Moroccan meal at a restaurant that Anthony had heard good things about. The taxi cab brought us around the winding streets pretty deep into the heart of the city. He dropped us off and pointed to an ally for us to walk down. Amy and Anthony both looked at eachother and thought this place looked a little too shaddy for a nice dinner spot, but they had no choice but to check it out. We knocked on the door, a person wearing an all white robe, white slippers and a hat answered the door. We walked in and immediately saw how beautiful the interior was.
We were first escorted upstairs for a drink before dinner. This place was very authentic Morrocan, with the singers to match.
The downstairs dining room was candlelight on each table. We sat by the fire. There were Moroccan singers playing the guitar and singing throughout the meal.
They brought out food in these elaborate trays which is in the ancient tradition of Marrakech. Very dramatic.....
This was a fantastic way to end a very interesting and enjoyable trip.
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