in the souks.
The souks in Marrakech were stunning and never-ending. There were spices, dried fruits and nuts, scarves, wooden tools, decorative lights, oils, leather bags, and it was all I could do not to buy every bowl and piece of pottery I fell in love with.
Stall after stall, there was a lot of the same thing. But there were also laughs and friendly exchanges. There was the ongoing and challenging battle of going back and forth on prices — truly an art, and one I don’t master.
As you walked past each stall, the men working tried anything to get your attention, inviting you in just to have one little look. It was easy to feel like a millionaire here, and even easier to spend money.
And perhaps it was a little blessing in disguise that my ATM card was eaten up within minutes of landing in Marrakech, because for the first trip in my life, I had no other option but to stay on budget. There was no room to wiggle in a fancy meal or even one more little bowl I envisioned perfect for olive pits at a party. One purchase more and I’m not sure I would’ve had enough to make it home.
And although I couldn’t buy everything I wanted, winding through the souks was unforgettable. My eyes couldn’t get enough, and I’m not sure how many rolls of film I went through there.
Cheers to the souks and the countless treasures inside. Cheers to attempting to make bargains but laughing way too much to be taken seriously. Cheers to the three bowls I did allow myself to buy, making friends in the market, and learning the tough way that you just can’t buy everything you think you want.