The Art of Travel

Broad empty streets bathing in yellowish light. Everything in the city is this same colour - that is what I have learnt in the few days here. It looks unearthly calm at this time of the evening, when only some taxis are trying to find customers. Our group of four European girls was reluctant to use their services – after all we were not able to understand the drivers and negotiate the price. We could not know where they would take us in this city where the modern part reveals a five-star quality and the Medina is a maze of dark narrow streets, filled up by the souks.
Walking through the modern part felt almost like being in a Western city. Clean, tidy and well-lit, filled with high-class hotels, this part of the city was not so remarkable. We were walking through it on our way to the hotel. A hotel situated opposite the bus station where we could smell the exhaust gas and hear vehicles starting up and stopping, and travellers arguing with bus drivers. In Marrakech you always negotiate the price. At least in the old part of the city…
The walk in the modern part of city allows you to forget all that. The exotic greenery and the desert-like colours are the only thing suggesting where you really are. Until you meet the locals. “Don’t follow the locals if they offer to take you somewhere!”, “Be careful with the locals!” people on Internet forums would say. And although you don’t want to believe them somewhere in your head the warning light flashes and reminds you of the possible danger. It makes you behave in an inappropriate way, being too harsh, expressing your wish to be left alone. And the locals leave you alone and let you go your way through their city.
They were not angry at us for being scared of them, for ignoring them and for wanting to curiously take a look at their life without trying to understand their culture. This is when I learnt what travelling is all about – communicating, taking a new point of view and trying to understand the locals.