Tag Archives: Dar les Cigognes

Dar les Cigognes, Marrakech

22 May

After our short stay at Four Seasons, we ventured into the old town of Marrakech, the Medina. We were prepared for chaos in Marrakech after reading the guidebooks and listening to friend’s stories, but upon arrival in the Medina, we were subjected to true taste of what it is like to be a tourist in Marrakech.

The taxi driver stopped and asked a local lad for directions to Dar les Cigognes, the riad that we were to stay in for two nights. The lad and driver exchanged a few words in Arabic before we were told that we were in capable hands and the lad would show us on our way. We paid the driver, pulled our suitcases out of the boot and followed the lad, down windy alleyways, past a flurry of oncoming mopeds, when we finally arrived at the riad. The boy rang the bell and asked for money for showing us the way. We politely declined and rushed through the door once open. Here we encountered our first problem; we were directed to the wrong riad, one with a very similar name, Riad les Cigognes.

As soon as we stepped into the courtyard, the confusion set in. This riad did not look like the one we had seen on the pictures and there was a small (and quite grotty looking) pool, which we also knew Dar les Cigognes did not have. With no one that could speak English, we pointed hastily to a map to ask where we were before wheeling our cases around the busy streets and luckily happening upon Dar les Cigognes.

New Image1

After parading our bags through the chaotic streets in the searing 40 degree heat, the cool courtyard at Dar les Cigognes was a pardise of tranquillity, a calm from the ensuing mayhem of the streets outside. One would never have imagined what lay behind the dusty pink walls but this place was truly stunning… palatial even. All original features had been restored to impeccable detail. The house was formerly the home to a Jewish merchant who made trade with the king in the palace opposite. We later found out that the surrounding area was once the Jewish district of Marrakech before the trouble in Israel / Palestine lead to most of the Jewish population fleeing the city.

We walked in and were greeted by the General Manager for the Sansoucci Collection, Pierre Herve. After being seated on the sofa area in the beautiful courtyard, complete with orange trees and a water fountain littered with flower buds, we were treated to a sweet and syrupy mint tea. Pierre then proceeded to give us a verbal tour of the city and provided us with a wedge of sheets that contained personal recommendations – where to get the best leather, pottery, the best museums and gardens, along with the best restaurants.

New Image2

We felt that we had walked into a small paradise from the bustling outside world and immediately felt at peace in the riad. We walked up the stairs to our room, unlocked the door and once inside marvelled at the original features – the beautifully carved ceiling, the enormous wardrobe and an extremely large polished concrete bath. We found rose petals on the floor beside the bed and on the bath mat and later that evening two cookies and a small bottle of milk at the bedside. It didn’t take us long to realise that what makes Dar les Cigognes so special is the attention to detail.

New Image

We dined in the square that evening at a restaurant that was recommended to us, Marrakshi. Situated in the tourist hot spot, it was noted that it is touristy but serves the best food on the square and provides good entertainment. Our honey and almond tagine was, at that time, the best tagine we had ever eaten and we enjoyed our meal.

photo (1)

After seeing the snake charmers and monkeys on leads wearing nappies, we retreated back to the riad for a peaceful nights sleep before taking breakfast on the terrace the next morning. We were served a range of Moroccan breads and pastries, a bowl of fruit and yoghurt, freshly squeezed orange juice and coffee. The breathtaking flowers sat in rows upon rows of terracotta pots and set us off planning for our soon to be very own garden (we have just bought out first flat!)

New Image3

During our stay, we were also treated to a tour of the local food market by Pierre, which was followed by a cooking class back at the riad. As soon as we stepped outside into the blistering heat, Pierre took us the long way round – he wanted us to see the communal oven. Each day, members of the public would take their own dough to the wood fired communal oven and pay as little as 1 diram per loaf. Motorbikes were loaded with freshly baked breads and delivered to the local restaurants.

The tour of the food market was invaluable, smelly and at times disturbing but it gave us a good insight into Moroccan produce. All of the fruit and veg is organic – because they can’t afford pesticides and only Moroccan produce is available – because they can’t afford to import. We saw tiny kittens wandering sleepily and cats staring at men butchering chickens.

Back at the riad, we thoroughly enjoyed cooking our monk fish tagine and vegetable cous cous. I won’t go into too much detail here as I will be writing about this on Eat the Olympics. But what I will say is that it was the best tagine I have ever eaten – pure heaven, despite feeling a little strange about eating the fish after seeing the fish stall in the market and Pierre telling us that we were 200km away from a beach and there is poor refrigeration in the trucks that carry the fish to Marrakech!

After two nights at Dar les Cigognes, we were off to our next stop, Dar Darma. Stay tuned for the review!

Rates at Dar les Cigognes start from 150 euros.

Dar Les Cigognes
108, rue de Berima
Marrakech, Morocco
+212 524 38 27 40
info@lescigognes.com
www.lescigognes.com

Food For Think was a guest at Dar les Cigognes

My Marrakech experience

14 May

photo

As I write this, I am sat on my flight back to London. I have just had a heated discussion with my boyfriend because of the way that I was writing one of my reviews. He (quite rightly) accused me of using flowery language to discuss experiences that, at the time, intimidated, scared or upset me. I have been in Marrakech for the last six days and I can hold my hand up and say that it was the most challenging holiday I have ever had. I was expecting it, I’m not totally naïve, but you can play scenarios over in your head many times and when it comes to the crunch, your feelings can be totally different. I can’t count the amount of times I rehearsed the next few sentences in my head over the last three days that I spent in the Medina, but here they are. I was brought up in England, a country that is world-renowned when it comes to politeness. We Brits will queue anywhere and say sorry at anything, even when it’s not our fault. I am unbelievably guilty of this and have often thought that I’d have a good stash of cash if I created a ‘sorry’ box.

I don’t like being approached when shopping and I will more than likely be put off a purchase if someone approaches me and actively tries to sell something to me. I might be in the minority but I know a fair few people that would say the same thing. So when we walked through the streets of the Medina in Marrakech and every single shopkeeper tried to guide us into their shop for us to see their goods, I was put off going in. I didn’t step foot in one the whole time I was there. But perhaps it wasn’t just that, I have a feeling the fact that is was 44 degree heat and the fact that I have just splashed out on a hefty deposit for my flat that put me off shopping a little.

But it wasn’t the shopkeepers that intimidated me, it was the boys on the streets that, even if you gave off a slight air of not knowing where you are going, hounded you, tried to give you directions, walked with you to the place you were going and tried to get money off you. Boys tried to point you in another direction by coming up to you, pointing and saying ‘ It’s closed, that way is closed.’ I have no idea what they were trying to achieve but 100% of the time nothing was closed.

Our first evening in the Medina was spent tirelessly looking for one of the restaurants that had been recommended to us by the General Manager at Dar les Cigognes, Tobsil. The description on our recommendations sheet told us that this was a romantic restaurant with great entertainment and refined Moroccan cuisine. We walked for what felt like hours trying to find the place. We stopped in a chemist on the square to ask for directions. He was extremely helpful and even rang the restaurant to double check as he was not sure. But even when we arrived in the area, we were unsure which alleyway to take. Then in stepped a local lad. ‘Are you lost’? He asked? Foolishly we said yes, we were trying to find Tobsil. ‘Ah, Tobsil, I will take you there, follow me.’ At this point I knew that it was a bad idea. He took us down the side streets, which wound and wound and seemed to take us deeper and deeper into obscurity.

Eventually we arrived at a small door and a doorman from the restaurant greeted us. The lad and his friend asked for money and the doorman appeared to be in on it. I was in a foreign country, surrounded by three men, down a dark alleyway with no other human being present. I was scared. We didn’t have change and weren’t about to part with a note that worked out at £20, so we declined. Insistent, the lad and his friend continued to pester, until I shouted out ‘Can we please just go into the restaurant.’ At this point, the doorman pressed the bell and the door opened instantly. Shocked, we rushed to our table and marvelled at the interior. Dark with red velvet chairs, rose petals scattered everywhere and live music that started up as soon as we took our seats. I’m sad to say that after the ordeal of trying to find the restaurant, we left five minutes after arriving. At 7.30pm we were far too early and as a consequence were the only customers in the whole restaurant.

IMG_0325

But let me say that, looking back, every person in the Medina that I felt intimidated by was totally harmless. The taxi driver that took us out of there laughed as I sat in the back semi shouting after having one last bad experience with a local teenager who tried his hardest to ‘help us’ (when we were persisting that we didn’t need help) and when we put our bags into a taxi came up close to me through the window asking ‘Do you have a little present for me?’ By this time I had had enough and shouted to the taxi driver to drive off. He did, simply laughing and said ‘Welcome to our country.’ All sorts of thoughts were raging through my head during the taxi journey but what it all comes down to is that it was truly a culture shock. The taxi driver was right, this is their culture and I was just not used to it. The General Manager of Dar les Cigognes was right, the city may seem scary at first but there is never any trouble between the locals and tourists and it is totally safe.

IMG_0316

At times I felt like I was on a film set. I was half expecting a trio of Mini Coopers (a la one of the Bourne films) to come flying past me, down the winding and narrow alley ways, past the many donkeys carrying heavy loads, the tiny shops barely big enough to allow a man to stand, the many tailors working their machines, motorbikes, mopeds and push bikes speeding past pedestrians on narrow streets, men sat outside souks pouring mint tea from a height.

I am probably sounding like I did not enjoy my holiday. I did but at times it didn’t feel like a holiday! It was an adventure, a culture and a level of heat I had never experienced before (it has never reached 44 degrees in May before!) Marrakech is colourful, wild and lavish and at times ridiculius. There’s a surprise… And young lad telling you ‘that way closed’ around every corner. Would I go back to the Medina? I’m not sure. But if I do, I will make sure to practice my haggling skills for weeks before.

Although morocco is quite clearly a poor country with very poor alongside the ultra wealthy it does seem a place that allows equality and opportunity and for this reason I was reluctant to offer any sort of ‘present’ to a young lad.
Over the six days that I spent in the city, I was glad to experience luxury at the Four Seasons resort, two traditional riads, both very different in their own rights, and the chaotic city. I feel like I have been away for six weeks, not days. And I telly you what, I’m well looking forward to a good bowl of cereal for breakfast in the morning.

IMG_0352

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,580 other followers

%d bloggers like this: