Monkeying around in Marrakesh

Me and the boys hangin' in the 'Kesh: 10 euros please.

MARRAKESH, Morocco - After being delayed a week by some ungodly French virus that struck down both me and Savannah - and still being a bit hesitant to venture too close to places actively involved in social media-inspired uprisings - we headed to the mysterious city of Marrakesh. I say mysterious partly because where it is located - or even that it exists in anything other than a 70s song lyric to begin with - was a mystery to most of the people we told we were going (mainly our US friends, I have to admit). But also because it was our first venture as a family to the Dark Continent. The uprisings in many of the nearby places of the Arab world only added to the intrigue.

The old: Luggage transport into the old city

It was a wholly eye-opening but uneventful trip (in terms of civil unrest - the closest we came to a protest was our hot air balloon trip almost being canceled because the king was due to arrive in town that day).

The new: A surprisingly modern airport

Marrakesh is a city classically divided between old and new, and quite literally so, as became immediately evident when you enter the walls of the old city, the Medina. You can't help but notice because the taxi from the quite modern airport deposits you just outside one of the city gates, and from there you hoof it to your riad (small, elegantly adorned B&B style accommodations, of which there a hundreds). There are plenty of guides available to help you navigate the impossible maze of streets and alleys that make up the Medina and show you to your destination. They even wheel your luggage, and in our case, your youngest daughter, in their carts.

The Riad was our sanctuary from the chaos of the souks

Upon arrival at the riad we are greeted by Mohammed and Hamain, two local chaps who couldn't be more helpful and polite. As previously arranged, they have prepared a dinner for us (lamb and couscous - two staples that will fuel us the entire week). They first offer us drinks in one of the cozy little nooks on the riad's ground floor. Hamain politely lowers the techno-sounding Arabic music coming for a boom box in one of the other lobby rooms. The riad has just six sleeping rooms so it's kind of like being in someone's house.

I give you best price

Magic Potion Man

Marrakesh is really a different worlds in all senses. We spend some time the next day exploring the Medina and the souks (the local markets), which one can imagine are not much different than the days of Ali Babba. Naturally, we get ripped off within the first half hour of our bargain hunting by a tag-team of leather bag salesmen. We get suckered into a couple of handbags (but we do get a complementary drink of tea out of the deal). Our salesman/tea guy then leads us to one of many 'magic potion shops" (as Savannah coined them). They are like old world pharmacies with all sorts of concoctions in glass containers lining the walls, and barrels of other stuff like frankinsense and crystal chips, all holding mysterious secret remedies to any sort of ailment you might have. We bought Lindsey some powder to snort before bed that supposedly will cure her snoring problem.

Lindsey learns some local culture

Snake charmer

Call me Indiana Jones

We wandered through the souks for awhile, and ultimately ended up at the center of the Medina - the Djema el Fna, the legendary trading center made famous by the Berbers, the ancient civilization that settled this area. It's a bustling hive of activity all day and night, and plenty of people are waiting to separate you from your dirams (local currency). Upon entering the sprawling square, I was immediately approached by a couple of snake handlers, who felt compelled to adorn me with their pets. They then ushered me quickly to the center of a large crowd who had been attracted by the sound of iconic snake-charming music that permeates the entire square. I am in full Clark Griswald mode now. While juggling a couple of the smaller snakes who were crawling around my head and shoulders ("No worry - not poisonous" the handlers repeatedly assured me), I turned to find myself face to face with a very poisonous looking cobra, who as gently swaying to the rhythm of the horn-playing bedouin next to him. One of the robed dudes quickly grabbed by phone and snapped a bunch of pictures, demonstrating amazing technical dexterity with a Blackberry for someone who lives in the middle of the desert. It was all over in less than a minute and 200 dirams (the fee they collected as I worked my way way from the crowd).

By this time I had lost the girls, only to find them when an apparently bisexual Arab he-she person grabbed me and directed me to the three of them and another woman sitting calmly on the ground about 100 yards from my snake experience. They were getting henna applied to their hands and none of them looked too happy about it. They were even less happy when they were coerced into paying a 70 euro tab for the handy artwork.

We managed to collect ourselves and wander to the far side of the square that looked to be free from snakes. There, I quickly found myself in the possession of two monkeys. Don't ask me how, but they almost magically appeared in my arms, nearly as quickly as the owners held out their hats for the "picture fee" for this session of Wild Kingdom.

The great henna rip off scheme (note he-she in background)

OK, no more animal attractions. We agreed and moved on, with luckily no gift shop to pass through as we exited the square.

Truth be told Marrakesh is not as crazy a place as it appears at first glance. And we found it extremely safe. Once you get a sense of the pace, it's very manageable, although we never did quite figure out how to navigate the labyrinth of the souks (there's always a local guide lingering in the shadows who will get you from Point A to Point B). Like most of the Arab world, it's a nonstop haggle-fest in Marrakesh and everything is negotiable. It can be fun and tiring at the same time, but by the end we felt satisfied we weren't getting totally screwed on the tea pots and artwork we couldn't live without.

Savannah looks for magic slippers

The food was good but not totally as exotic as I had expected (probably a good thing with me coming off my killer stomach virus). We had a few nice dinners in the Medina, including an overpriced 'authentic' Moroccan dinner, complete with belly dancers (the multi-room, sub ground level restaurant itself was impressive). We got to explore the new city, too, and even enjoyed drinks at the Le Churchill Bar, one of the top 20 bars in the world as ranked by World's Best Bars (how do I get a job with that outfit?). It's inside the very posh  Mamounia Hotel, and is a dark-paneled lounge adorned with picture of jazz greats that describes itself as having an "atmosphere that is appealingly old world, a throw back to a more civilized time." The prices were a bit less than civilized as our afternoon drinks cost us almost as much as dinner with the belly dancers that night.

Deep in the souks

We found our Riad (Riad Dix-Neuf) to be a relaxing retreat from the chaos of the souks. The room was surprisingly spacious and comfortable, and the the service was excellent. Breakfast every morning on the roof top terrace was a highlight- fresh squeezed juices, strong coffee and just-baked breads. The staff was at our beck and call and it was really one of our more enjoyable hotel experiences ever.

The whole trip was a great experience for all of us, especially the kids who got to see a completely different culture. Being awakened at 5AM by the eerie call to prayer will stick in their minds for a long time. And, without getting too philosophical, they got to see first hand that even though people may look, dress and sound a while lot different than us, there is also a lot of common ground between us. Ground that unfortunately gets lost as we get older and "wiser."

View from our rooftop terrace