Friday, May 19, 2006
02/2006: Marrakech: 'loyalty is not my guide's motto'
Cold and raining today. Hire a taxi to visit properties in Palmeraie, a dusty oasis filled with tall palm trees 7 or so miles outside the city walls, which is filling up fast with private luxury villas and exclusive hotels that refuse to be called hotels (“guest palace” is a popular description). Taxi driver Mustapha tells me 10 years ago no-one wanted to live there and land was £1 per sq foot, now it’s £550 per sq foot. After bumping down a long rough road past camels, palm trees and locals in tiny makeshift settlements, we arrive at the very secluded and gorgeous Ksar Chag Bhar. Am entertained by a delightful dapper French gentleman called Pierre who plies me with mint tea and tips me off to the best shoe shops in Marrakech. “Todd shoes for only 30 euros!”. The palace is stunning and scarily expensive. “Only the very rich come here” confides Pierre. Vow to do the Euro lottery.
7pm. Am told by the guide I’ve hired to help me find riads in the Medina that he can’t start tomorrow until 2pm even though we’d agreed on 9am. Then he tells me it is too difficult and he can get an easier job with an Italian tour group. Helpful. This is after we have spent time going through the list of places I want to visit and he has scribbled all over it. Ask receptionist if he can get me another guide. Promises to have one in the morning at 9am
Cold and raining today. Hire a taxi to visit properties in Palmeraie, a dusty oasis filled with tall palm trees 7 or so miles outside the city walls, which is filling up fast with private luxury villas and exclusive hotels that refuse to be called hotels (“guest palace” is a popular description). Taxi driver Mustapha tells me 10 years ago no-one wanted to live there and land was £1 per sq foot, now it’s £550 per sq foot. After bumping down a long rough road past camels, palm trees and locals in tiny makeshift settlements, we arrive at the very secluded and gorgeous Ksar Chag Bhar. Am entertained by a delightful dapper French gentleman called Pierre who plies me with mint tea and tips me off to the best shoe shops in Marrakech. “Todd shoes for only 30 euros!”. The palace is stunning and scarily expensive. “Only the very rich come here” confides Pierre. Vow to do the Euro lottery.
7pm. Am told by the guide I’ve hired to help me find riads in the Medina that he can’t start tomorrow until 2pm even though we’d agreed on 9am. Then he tells me it is too difficult and he can get an easier job with an Italian tour group. Helpful. This is after we have spent time going through the list of places I want to visit and he has scribbled all over it. Ask receptionist if he can get me another guide. Promises to have one in the morning at 9am
# posted by hotelreviewer @ 2:45 pm 
