The Blue Mosque is one of Istanbul’s most iconic landmarks – and understandably so. The eight domes and six minarets are impressive from the outside, but it’s not until one goes inside that the sheer splendour of the structure hits. The tiles covering the interior are – as the mosque’s name suggests – mostly blue, but intricately designed. Countless patterns are paired together to form a chaotic harmony that forces the viewer’s eyes to crawl across every tiled wall and surface.
Morning Regatta in Istanbul
A few weeks ago I was the lucky guest of a friend with an amazing apartment in Istanbul. As we drove along the Bosphorus toward the lovely neighbourhood of Arnakutvöy, I was surprised at the varied architectural influences of the area and was ultimately delighted with her incredible bay windows overlooking the water. We woke up our first morning to a flurry of sails cruising along the waterway – a nice view with our morning intake of fresh fruit.
Headed to Istanbul at the shriek of dawn for the May bank holiday weekend.
View from my window seat – stay tuned for pictures and updates from Turkey…
A view of the Atlas Mountains at sunset in Morocco – a nice something to look at on a rainy Friday afternoon…weekend only a few hours away.
Taking a cue from my lovely sister, who has always been great at digging up and editing old photographs, I have started to dig up old pictures from travels during my university days.
Here is a picture of Salzburg, Austria – home to The Sound of Music.
Yes, our hotel played the film on repeat, 24 hours a day. In case you were wondering.
Here’s a quick summary of a few other great restaurants we tried in Marrakech:
Le Jardin – we headed here post-hammam and it fit the mood perfectly. The majority of the tables in this restaurant sit underneath the shade of tall trees, set against an entirely green tiled courtyard. Upon our arrival at nightfall, candles dotted every corner of the space, creating a serene experience in the middle of the bustling medina. We munched on a selection of salads that complemented our afternoon’s spa activities and shared a few bottles of some of Marrakech’s best wine (yes, they produce wine. This one was a Medallion Cabernet Sauvignon).
Grand Café de la Poste - well known expat stop that offers great atmosphere and good food. You’ll feel like you’re in a time warp (or an old movie) with the colonial décor and attentive service. My travel mate referred to it as the Balthazar of Marrakech and after dining there, I’d have to agree.
Café des Épices - the more casual sister to the Terrasse des Épices mentioned previously. This café overlooks the spice square and the rooftop tables offer a more panoramic view of the city than its ground floor counterparts. The simple chalkboard menu offers a few sandwiches and salads that will sate the appetites of those on a mission to shop the souks (the avocado toast comes highly recommended by me).
Thinking a hammam treatment would be a Moroccan looking steam room with a large woman scrubbing us down, we were in for a surprise when a very small man from Guinea ushered us into a tiny red room with no steam, no frills and no English. As he proceeded to soak us in water like we were elephants, he then ripped off our bikini tops until we four women were sat topless, thigh to thigh on miniature stools. Did I mention some of us had met for the first time just one day prior?
The Torture Chamber
He grabbed us one by one and threw us face down onto the floor where here proceeded to rub us down in black soap and scrub us down with a brillo pad (well, it felt like one anyway). In the moment we were all very into it, but upon my return to photograph the room we agreed our hammam looked more like a torture chamber than a relaxing scene.
This definitely qualified as one of the more weird and wonderful experiences of my life.
Things our Guinean friend taught us (luckily we had one French speaker on hand to translate):
1. The trick to smooth skin is NOT to moisturise but to exfoliate often – if his skin was anything to go by, I’d toss my lotions if I were you
2. His father used to play with Hendrix
3. The first person he ever scrubbed down was a Rolling Stone
4. A great cure for acne scarring is a mixture of crushed rice powder and milk. Sleep with it on your face and your skin will be clear in no time (says he)
Our first attack of the souks was with our guide, who kindly took us around to all of the quality shops. Our goal was to avoid all of the kitschy tourist traps and find the authentic pieces and antiques.
Closed Souks on a Friday Morning
Above – what the souks looked like on Friday morning – their version of a closed weekend morning.
Souks Open for Afternoon Business
Above, a stark difference from morning to afternoon. Although still relatively quiet, the souks came alive after 3pm…
Women Weaving a Traditional Berber Rug
When the call to prayer sounded, our guide dumped us in a massive rug emporium where we saw two women at the hand of a centuries-old loom. Trying my hand at the tedious technique, I soon learned the patience and willpower these women must have to complete one rug, let a lone hundreds in their lifetime.
Massive rug emporium where our second hand high came free
Waiting on our guide to return from the mosque, we wandered about the shop where we got a second hand high from the fumes of hash coming from the workers’ mouths. They rolled out rug after rug until we ultimately shut them down and scuttled out of the place gasping for fresh air. No rugs in hand.
The rest of our afternoon continued, the only successful purchase was an antique bamboo and camel leather rug from the family owned and celebrity frequented Porte d’Or – where my friend got the price so low the rug would ‘cry all the way to London’ (according to the owner). With such an unproductive day and feeling as rushed as we did (we had a hammam appointment), we vowed to return again to following week.
We scooted to lunch at the Terrasse des épices where it was time to slow down the eating and share some lighter Moroccan fare. We nibbled on grilled vegetables from one plate, which included the best damn grilled tomatoes I’ve had in ages, and mixed carrot, aubergine and potato salads from another.
For dessert? Cinnamon coffee – a trick and treat I will take with me forever. Caffeinated and ready for our afternoon’s adventure, we rushed out to meet our tour guide who kindly agreed to pick us up there…but more on that in a bit.
Visiting Africa’s only dedicated photography museum, Maison de la Photographie, was a highlight – the exhibition we saw included a collection of photographs meant to show the diversity of the Moroccan people. Beautiful black and white shots of some incredible subjects displayed the Arabic, Berber and French ethnicities spread across the country.
Courtyard of the Maison de la Photographie
Photograph courtesy of Camden Hauge
The exposed courtyard lent a dynamic element to the main gallery and to the images, making me feel as if I were living and breathing them instead of viewing them from within a sterile museum. My favourite subject was an androgynous boy with a head wrap (image above – left), the only indication of his masculine identity is the lack of jewellery around his a neck (a fact we learned from the museum guide).
Four floors of photography led up to the tallest rooftop terrace in the medina where one could take tea and lunch. We skipped the food and instead admired the views across the city, a sight I won’t soon forget.
