Beating heart of Marrakesh, the sprawling ‘square’ of Jemaâ el Fna is both the city’s greatest tourist draw and still a genuine social hub for the Marrakchis. On a médina map, Jemaâ el Fna, aka ‘la Place’ figures as an irregular space in the middle of the médina. It is far more. Each hour of the day has its own character. In the morning, things are quiet – the area looks like nothing so much as an empty car park. By midday, the street entertainers are in action and camcorders are whirring. By mid-afternoon, the square is full of people hawking talents and goods, bystanders gawping, walking, talking and arguing. Activity ends late at night when barbecue stalls and the last musician have packed up. Jemaâ el Fna is particularly memorable during Ramadan when the day’s fast ends. But whatever the time of day or year, you will return to ‘la Place’ again and again, responding to its magnetic pull, to mingle with the crowd or watch the jostle from the terraces of the Café de France or the Café Argana. Nearby, dominating Marrakesh ’s skyline looms the towering minaret of the Koutoubia Mosque, another important focal point and landmark. Running into Jemaâ el Fna from the southwest is the pedestrian Rue Bab Agnaou, packed in the early evening with strollers. And off the north side of the square is the small Place Bab Fteuh. Its old merchant hostels will delight junk fanatics.
Open 24 hours, liveliest from 1600-2100, later in summer.
‘Jemaâ el Fna is not what it was’, old Marrakchis moan. Back before Independence, ‘la Place’ was ankle-deep in dust in summer and a sea of mud after the winter rains. The idea was even mooted that the area should be used as building land. Until the late 1980s, the city bus station was on the Jemaâ, a chaos of ramshackle charabancs and Mercedes taxis. Things have been cleaned up a lot since then. In 1994, for the GATT meeting, the tarmac spreaders were brought in and the juice barrows and barbecue stands got numbers. The dust is a thing of the past – careering vélomoteurs are more of a problem. And there are dark rumours of a mini-mall complex on the Riad Zitoun side.
Take time to wander round ‘la Place’. Amateur apothecaries spread out their herbs and unguents on sacking, offering advice on problems of fertility and virility, possibly alarm-clocks, miscellanous CDs and the odd mummified reptile; there are snake charmers and monkey tamers, watersellers and wildly grinning gnaoua musicians with giant metal castanets, all too ready for photographers. Sheltering from the sun under their umbrellas, the fortune tellers and public scribes await their clients.
In the evening, the crowd changes again, a mix of students and people pausing on the way home from work, smart tourists strolling to exclusive patio restaurants in the médina, and backpackers ready for hot tagine or harira soup at one of the foodstalls. You may see Ouled el Moussa tumblers or a storyteller enthralling the crowd. Sometimes there are boxers and almost always groups of musicians. After much effort to extract a few dirhams from the crowd, an acoustic band will get some Amazigh dancing. More moving are the groups performing songs by the activist groups popular in the 1970s, Jil Jilala and Nass el Ghiwane. (Every Moroccan knows a song or two by these bands.) There may be nakkachat, women with syringes full of henna, ready to pipe a design onto your hands, as if they were decorating a cake. Modern innovations include a fairground game of ‘hook the ring over the coke bottle’, while a lad with a dumb-bell improvised from two old millstones will let you do some exercises for a dirham or two. You may find an astrologist-soothsayer tracing out his diagram of the future on the tarmac with a scrubby piece of chalk. A modern variation on the traditional halka or storyteller’s circle touches harsh social reality: local people listen to a true tale told with dignity by the relatives of a victim of poverty or injustice. And should you need an aphrodisiac, there are stalls with tea urns selling cinnamon and ginseng tea and little dishes of black, powdery slilou, a spicy sweet paste.
Remember: watch your wallet and have change handy for entertainers and orange juice. There shouldn’t be any hassle as the plain-clothes Brigade Touristique is watching, and penalties for bothering visitors are severe.
As the Eiffel Tower is to Paris, so the 65-metre high minaret of the Koutoubia Mosque is to Marrakech. Visible from afar, it is the landmark which was to be the focal point for urban planner Henri Prost when he laid out the modern neighbourhood of Guéliz. Unlike many mosques in Morocco’s old cities, it is readily approachable, being surrounded by an esplanade and rose gardens. The name Koutoubia derives from the Arabic kutoub (books) and means the ‘Booksellers’ Mosque’. No doubt the noble business of selling manuscripts was conducted in a souk close to the mosque.
Unusually, the Koutoubia is a double mosque, both parts dating from the reign of the second Almohad ruler, Abd el Moumen (1130-63). Standing on the esplanade facing the minaret, the ruins of the first Koutoubia are behind railings to your right (first excavated in the late 1940s, and re-explored recently). The bases of the prayer hall’s columns, and the cisterns under the courtyard, are clearly visible. The ground plan of the second Koutoubia, still standing, is the same as that of the ruined one (17 naves). (The Almohad mosque at Tin Mal, visitable for non-Muslims, has a similar plan.)
So why, back in the 12th century, did the Almohads go to the trouble of building not one but two mosques? Why bother destroying the Almoravid mosque? The site of the mosque is itself historic, having been originally occupied by a late 11th-century kasbah, the Almoravid Dar el Hajar (lit. ’House of Stone’). The victorious Almohads destroyed much of the Almoravid city they found. In 1147 they built a large mosque, close to the Dar el Hajar fortress. This they had to do, as no Almohad would pray in a building put up by the heretic Almoravids. Unfortunately, the orientation of the new Almohad mosque was not quite right – the focal point in a mosque, indicated by the mihrab, or prayer niche, should be in the direction of Mecca. The solution was to build a second mosque – the present Koutoubia – even though the faithful at prayer can correct this directional problem themselves, under the direction of the imam.
Thus two mosques existed for some time side by side, the first probably functioning as a sort of annexe (and given Almohad religious fervour, congregations were no doubt large). Today, the bricked-up spaces on the northwest wall of the Koutoubia Mosque indicate the doors which connected them. However, the total complex was perhaps excessive in size and the older structure eventually fell into ruin.
The existing Koutoubia Mosque was built by Abd el Moumen in 1162. The minaret, an impressive feat of engineering in its day, was to influence subsequent buildings in Morocco. It culminates in a ribbed dome topped with three golden orbs, allegedly made from the melted down jewellery of Sultan Yacoub el Mansour’s wife, in penance for her having eaten three grapes during Ramadan.
A vast structure for its day, the Koutoubia is held to be the high point of Almohad art, a cathedral-mosque of classic simplicity. It is here that the innovations of Hispano-Moorish art – stalactite cupolas, painted wooden ceilings – reach perfection. There are perspectives of horseshoe arches, no doubt an aid to contemplation. (Although the prayer hall is off limits to the non-Muslim visitor, an idea of what it is like can be gained at the Tin Mal mosque in the High Atlas.) The unique minbar (preacher’s chair) can be seen in the Badi Palace and is all decoration and variety, a sharp contrast to the austerity of the prayer hall. Ultimately, the Koutoubia is striking because it is the work of one ruler, Abd el Moumen. Comparable buildings in western Islam – the Great Mosque of Cordoba and the Alhambra – were built over a couple of centuries. West of the Koutoubia is a splendid rose garden from where you will get the best views of the minaret. Pass through here on your way to take a squint at the legendary Hotel Mamounia.
The great museum-palaces of Marrakech lie south of Jemaâ el Fna. With its wider, straighter streets, this area is easier to negotiate than the labyrinthine northern médina. From ‘la place’, Riad Zitoun el Kedim leads down to a confusing junction and the Place des Ferblantiers, home to the metal workers. Through a gate, down a giant-sized corridor between pisé walls is the entrance to the El Badi Palace. All that remains of a 16th-century golden sultan’s greatest palace is a vast precinct set with sunken orange groves. The rooftops of the present royal palace complex lie just beyond.
A confusing ramble away, not far from Bab Agnaou, behind the Kasbah Mosque, high walls hide a masterpiece of Moorish architecture, the Saâdian Mausoleum. Carved stucco traceries arch over the marble tombs of 17th-century princelings. Poetically lost to the world for a couple of centuries, this jewel box of a monument was only rediscovered in the early 20th century.
Another street running south of Jemaâ el Fna, Riad Zitoun el Jedid, takes you to more palatial homes turned over to cultural display. The Dar Si Saïd houses the city’s biggest collection of Moroccan traditional arts and crafts: rare carpets, pottery and all manner of rural implements. Nearby, the Bahia Palace is a mosaic of fountain courtyards and cool, high-ceilinged chambers. One-time home of a cruel vizier, droves of tourists now pass through. Look in at the Maison Tiskiwine, a modest home containing a unique private collection of Moroccan textiles.
Not open to non-Muslims.The road from Bab Agnaou leads to Rue de la Kasbah, turn right along here and then take the first left. On this road is the much- restored Kasbah Mosque, dating from 1190. The minaret has Almohad darj wa ktaf (step and shoulder) and shabka (net) motifs on alternate sides, all on a background of green tiles. Though not as impressive as the tower of the Koutoubia Mosque, the minaret is a notable landmark en route to the Saâdian Tombs.
0800-1200, 1400-1800, generally closed Tue. 10dh. The entrance lies directly to the right of the Kasbah mosque.French archaeologists and savants had a field day in early 20th- century Morocco: here was an exotic land, untouched by modernity, ripe for study. The Saâdian Tombs must rate as one of their more exciting discoveries, a high point in Islamic art. How did the mausolea escape the destructive rage of Sultan Moulay Ismaïl, he who set out to destroy all traces of the Saâdians? Perhaps sealing off the tombs was the best way to consign the dynasty to oblivion – without profaning what was after all a royal burial place. Whatever, the Saâdian rulers’ last resting place is a Moorish architectural bijou – ‘discovered’ in 1917 thanks to aerial photography. Access had been via the neighbouring mosque, so a corridor had to be created to give non-Muslim visitors access to the two mausolea. In the first, the mihrab (prayer niche) of the first main burial chamber is particularly impressive. Here lies Prince Moulay Yazid. In the second room is buried the great Ahmed al Mansour, ‘the Golden’, surrounded by his sons. A third, more poignant chamber contains children’s graves. The second mausoleum contains the tombs of Ahmed al Mansour’s mother, the venerated Lalla Messaouda, and Mohammed Ech Cheikh, founder of the Saâdians. Overall, the mausolea are not so very different from the private chapel of a European noble family. Visit early in the day. Later the dignity and repose of the Saâdians gets a little ruffled by tour groups.
0900-1200 and 1430-1730 (closed during the two Aïd holidays). 10dh.El Badi Palace was built by the Saâdian Sultan Ahmed al Mansour ed-Dahbi (the Golden) between 1578 and 1593, following his accession after his victory over the Portuguese at the Battle of the Three Kings, at Ksar el Kebir in northern Morocco. To get there coming from ‘la Place’ down Riad Zitoun el Kedim, head onto Place des Ferblantiers (a square with workshops turning out tin lanterns etc), then turn right once though the big gate in the wall and you’ll find the ‘corridor’ between massive walls leading to the palace.
The 16th-century palace marks the height of Saâdian power, the centrepiece of an imperial capital. It was a lavish display of the best craftsmanship of the period, using the most expensive materials, including gold, marble and onyx. Today only the great walls have survived as a reminder of one of the periodic royal re-foundations of Marrakech. The palace was largely destroyed in the 17th century by Moulay Ismaïl, who stripped it of its decorations and fittings and carried them off to Meknès. No austere royal fortress, the Badi was probably a palace for audiences – and it was at one of these great court ceremonies that the building’s fate was predicted: “Among the crowds taking part at the banquet was a visionary who, at the time, enjoyed a certain reputation for his saintliness. ‘What do you think of this palace?’ asked the Sultan Al Mansour in jest. ‘When it is demolished, it will make a big pile of earth’, replied the visionary. Al Mansour was lost for words at this answer. He felt a sinister omen.” (El Ifrani, a historian writing in the early 18th century also noted the inauspicious numerical meaning of the palace’s name. The value of its letters is 117 – exactly the number of lunar years the palace remained intact: from 1002 AH to 1119 AH, that is 1594-1708.)
The name El Badi ties in with the palace’s once elaborate decoration. In Arabic, ilm el badi is one of the main varieties of classical Arabic rhetoric, the art of stylistic ornament – and the palace was certainly one of the most decorated in its day. Above one of the main gates, the following inscription was placed in flowing Arabic calligraphy: “This gate is as beautiful as the eloquent beginning of a fine poem, and the palace is as the continuation of this poem. Thus it was named Badi, using hyperbole, assonance and pleonasm.”
In its day, the Badi Palace was the physical symbol of the Golden Sultan’s glory. Al Mansour had conquered the Sudan (Arabic for ‘blacks’), bringing them under Islamic rule. Deeply influenced by Ottoman court traditions, he no doubt hoped to establish the imposing ceremonial of the Istanbul court in Morocco. The palace drew in wealth and skilled craftsmen from all over. The colonnades were of marble, apparently bought, or rather exchanged with Italian merchants, for their equivalent weight in sugar. Al Mansour had sugar-cane presses built. Perhaps there is a visual message here, the power of the prince transforming crystalline sugar into white marble and stucco. Sugary sweets were distributed to the Sultan’s guests – at a time when well-refined sugar was a rarity. The ill omens which had so frightened Al Mansour were realized: not only was the palace destroyed, but all its fine building materials were dispersed. The glory of the palace was dismantled, and in the words of one contemporary observer, “there was not a single city in Morocco which did not receive some debris of El Badi.” The vaulting ambition and power of the great Moulay Ismaïl in turn had to find an expression in stone – or rather adobe – walls, but at Meknès, not Marrakech. Perhaps there was a political logic to all this building activity. Moulay Ismaïl is said to have declared: “If I have a sack full of rats, I must move the sack constantly to prevent them from escaping.”
In July, El Badi comes alive each weekend for the annual festival of traditional dance and music. Films are screened here in late September for the Festival du film de Marrakech. Most of the year, however, the palace enclosure is a quiet sort of place, the high thick walls protecting the vast courtyard from the noise of the surrounding streets. The courtyard is divided by water channels connecting a number of pools. The largest of these even has an island. The ruins on either side of the courtyard were probably summer houses, the one at the far end being called the Koubba el Khamsiniya after the 50 pillars in its construction. The complex contains a small museum which includes the movable minbar, a sort of pulpit, from the Koutoubia Mosque. The scattered ruins of the palace, with odd fragments of decoration amidst the debris, also include stables and dungeons.
To get to the southeast area of the médina follow Rue des Banques from just past Café de France on the Jemaâ el Fna. This leads into Riad Zitoun Jedid. Off to the left is the Dar Si Saïd, a palatial complex originally built by Si Saïd, vizier under Moulay El Hassan, and half-brother of Ba Ahmed. Today it houses the Museum of Moroccan Arts and Crafts. The collections include pottery, jewellery, leatherwork from Marrakech and Chichaoua carpets. Amazigh artifacts, (daggers, copperware, jewellery of silver, ivory and amber) are one of its strongpoints. The first floor has been made into an elegant salon with Hispano-Moorish decoration. In a cool and pleasant courtyard, a remarkable collection of old window and door frames is on display. Items to look out for include a marble basin, unusually decorated with heraldic birds, from Islamic Spain, and a primitive four-seater wooden ferris wheel of the type still found in moussems (country fairs) in Morocco. Those particularly interested in traditional Moroccan artefacts will want to continue to the neighbouring Maison Tiskiwine.
8 Rue de la Bahia, T 044-443335. 0930-1230 and 1500-1830. 15dh. Between the Palace and Dar Si Said is the Maison Tiskiwine (‘the House of the Horns’), a modest courtyard house which is home to a fine array of items related to Moroccan rural society. The collection was assembled over a lifetime in Morocco by Dutch art historian and Marrakech resident Bert Flint. There is an exhibition of craftsmen’s materials and techniques from regions as far apart as the Rif, High Atlas and the Sahara, including jewellery and costumes, musical instruments, carpets and furniture. Flint was also instrumental in setting up another collection of traditional Moroccan craftwork for the City Council in Agadir.
Riad Zitoun el Jedid, T 044-389564. Mon-Thu 0830-1145, 1430- 1745, Sat and Sun 0830-1130 and 1500-1745, closed Fri. 10dh. Further to the south is the Bahia Palace (Bahia means ‘brilliant’). It was built in the last years of the 19th century by the vizier Ba Ahmed ben Moussa, or Bou Ahmed, a former slave who exercised considerable power under Sultans Moulay Hassan and Abd el Aziz. Generally packed with tour groups, the palace is a maze of corridors, passageways and empty chambers with painted ceilings. The story goes that Bou Ahmed was so hated that, on his death in 1900, his palace was looted and his possessions stolen by slaves, servants and members of his harem. The visit concludes with a marble paved courtyard of 50x30 m, and the guides will tell you that each wife and concubine had a room looking onto the patio. The French authorities set up shop here when they occupied Marrakech in the early 1900s, installing all manner of mod cons. With the pleasant garden courtyards and high cedarwood ceilinged chambers, you can easily see why.