Marrakech and Istanbul: Two Cities, Two Stories
I spent the last week of May in Marrakech and Istanbul. My husband and I are on our annual "bucket list" trip, a commitment we've made last year to celebrate our next ten wedding anniversaries travelling to places we haven't been. What I'm learning through these journeys is that I find joy not so much in seeing these beautiful and wonderful places--there's a lot to be said about that-- but more so, in discovering everything else that the rest of my senses haven't: The taste of food I haven't had; unfamiliar scents; sounds of distinctly foreign language and music. The experience of discovering all the customs and traditions that are as uncommon and also as universal as life itself is, at the same time, exhilarating and invigorating.
In Marrakech...I walked into our hotel and sensed such pleasing fragrance. I quickly discovered that this was coming from a fountain nearby brimming with floating fresh rose petals. Nothing like fresh rose-water. I enjoyed nibbling on dates and nuts and I couldn't have enough of the Moroccan mint-tea. The landscape that is Marrakech is "ochre" or pinkish red -- all the buildings are painted the same color. Very appealing to the eye. I learned of "Berber" as the people, followed by the "rug", as in the rugs they laboriously create. I first experienced the "souk" (market), and was taken by the aromas and colors of spices and oils that I have never seen nor smelled. I loved their gorgeous kaftans, jewelry, and slippers. We spent our anniversary dinner in a beautiful old "riad" (traditional Moroccan house) now converted into a hotel/restaurant. Its external simplicity belied the elegance and comfort that the dwelling offered inside. We dined on wonderful Moroccan fare, truly delightful! And the Moroccan people! Warm, gracious, hospitable, kind. I will go back anytime.
In Istanbul... I was overcome with the richness of its history. I regret that I didn't brush up on the history of Constantinople or the Ottoman Empire. I was simply fascinated about how the churches were converted to mosques, and the interplay of Byzantine and Moslem architecture. Our hotel overlooked the "Golden Horn", and was actually where Agatha Christie wrote "Murder on the Orient Express". The sounds of the calls to prayer and the Imam's chants resounded through the city throughout the day. Here, the "souk" took new meaning in the Grand Bazaar, a very, very, very big covered market. Believe it or not, I was so overwhelmed, I couldn't shop. Like Marrakech, we loved the food in Istanbul. Even if we didn't eat lamb. Both the Moroccan and Turkish people have mastered the art of cooking eggplants. In Istanbul, I learned about and thoroughly enjoyed "mezes" or the Turkish version of "tapas". And: the baklava! Mmmm, the baklava! We had the pleasure of cruising the Bosphorus, and ended our visit treating ourselves to a "hamam", (Turkish bath). The baklava and the hamam are reason enough to go back.
I was so impressed by the religious dedication and kindness of the Moslems I met and encountered in both cities that I brought home a Quran, which I hope to read one of these days.
Someone told me of something he read on travelling and jet lag: that it's as if the body has already arrived while the soul is still catching up. I agree - -and I'd like to add that it seems to me that the true joy from travelling comes from bringing back everything that your body and soul have picked up along the way.
