Farewelled Rach and Sam this morning then scoffed home made crumpets & honey, Berber omelette and coffee and raced into town for the weekly Berber market. It's the only opportunity for surrounding villagers to get their weekly supplies. People arrive in trucks and on donkeys hawking everything from goats heads to plastic buckets and soap powder to bails of hay. It's where you go to get your donkey shod, have a shave, have your pants taken up or get a tooth pulled out. You name it, it's there to be haggled for. Morocco is not a great place for browsing or window shopping because stopping to look at something can unleash the most persistent and aggressive side of the seller. Best to wander and surreptitiously look at things out the corner of your eye and only stop to look properly if you are quite serious about buying something.
It was a huge, heaving, spectacular market. Loved every dusty, stinky minute.
Caught a local, leopard print lined Mercedes taxi up the hill to the hotel and got ready for our afternoon hammam.
This was more relaxing than the last. We knew what we were in for and also there were no strange men bursting through the door. We lay in the misty steam room, then were slathered in black olive soap, sloshed with buckets of hot water, then scrubbed all over to shed dead skin, rubbed in a clay(ish) mask and sloshed again with water. She washed our hair with rosemary shampoo and then threw the final buckets of water over us. Smiling warmly at us all the while. So lovely.
Last night tonight. Getting ready for the long journey home. Can't wait to see our scallywags because we love them to the moon and back.
(That's a serious selfie- hee hee)
