Taking the Long Cut

One last trip before returning the rental car: les Cascades d'Ouzoud, or the Ouzoud waterfalls. The two hour ride from Marrakesh takes us four hours due to, um, let's call them "cartographical issues." However, once there, we enjoy ourselves, walking through meadows of wildflowers (the poppies here are used for red dyes in everything from carpets to pottery). The pool below is filled with colorful hand-made rafts, and of course this being Morocco, we do not sign any waivers or get waterproof ponchos with "Maid of the  Mist" logos emblazened on them. We simply pay a guy a few bucks and get paddled as close as is humanly possible to the base of the falls. An ice cream on the way out, and despite taking the long road here, we can call Ouzoud falls a success.

 

On the ride home, however, Anthony comes down with the second raging migraine of his life (the first was at the sand dunes in Ica, Peru about ten years ago). This means that I have to drive, which isn't such a big deal except that it's dark and too late to return the car to the airport, as was our plan. Frankly, we don't even know where the airport is. Since Anthony is eyes-closed in the passenger seat, desperately waiting/hoping for the Moroccan migraine pain reliever we've just bought to kick in, I don't have a navigator. That means that we'll have to drive back into the heart of Marrakesh's old medina to the parking lot we already know. Or, to be more precise, I will have to drive back into the heart of the medina....

Last night, Anthony was the one who drove us into Marrakesh, using his cell phone GPS to wind through the medina's labyrinth of progressively narrower and narrower roads (think alleys, with pedestrians, cars, and motorbikes...). Anthony drove very skillfully, confidently, and quickly, and the girls and I were somewhere between cheering like it a was a roller coaster and white-knuckling on the door handles. Finally, the road got narrower than the car, so we parked and had to walk the rest of the way. Before we could get too far, however, somebody noticed we looked out of place and stopped to help. Indeed, it turned out that the GPS had automatically changed the address from a "derb" (alley) to a "rue" (street) and directed us to the wrong part of town. We were so far off, we had to get back in the car, with our new-found Moroccan friend getting in and guiding us. He led us to a parking lot, and from there we walked about ten minutes through small alleys to our hotel, which we would not have found on our own in a million years. After giving our ersatz guide a big thank-you tip, we breathed a sigh of relief that we wouldn't have to drive through the medina again. If I had known that I actually would have to drive in here -- myself -- I think I would have been nervous all day. At least I'll always feel better about driving in NYC from now on.

Besides getting lost on our way into our Marrakesh hotel and the Ouzoud falls, we also got lost finding our hotel in Skoura (just outside town, with a little hand-painted wooden sign for the turn-off into what looks like desert wilderness), finding our kasbah hotel in Erfoud (we forked left out of town, when we should have forked right), finding the Cedar forest (going the wrong way at several roundabouts and having to backtrack), walking through the date palms of Skoura, and in the alleys of Fez. So, we actually have been lost in the (funky cold) medina, at noon at the oasis, and while rocking the kasbah. We did not get lost in the desert on a horse with no name, however, nor while riding on the Marrakesh Express, though we did get lost while riding into Marrakesh from the expressway, if that counts.

And for the record, Moroccan migraine pills, which contain codeine and are sold over the counter for a huge box for about $3, are effective.