Solbit Is Back from the Souk

Dear Nicalai,

Hi, Girl, do they have a lot of stuff to sell here in Marrakech!

We’re back from the souk.  I’d been to a souk already.  Yeah, in Istanbul.  Shops bunched up together, things for sale tumbling out of the little booths onto the walkways.  People yelling at each other in French, Berber, and Arabic — sometimes even in English, German, Spanish, or Dutch. Gosh, a lot of languages are spoken here. You can find everything from snake charmers to fine art here in Jama el Fna, the big market.

Hey, do you like donkeys. Hee Haw!  Me, too! Look at this.


I saw so many donkey carts! One almost ran over Nona and me! 

Yeah, these donkey carts bring things to sell to the souk and then go home empty like this one.

What’s a souk?  It’s an Arab open air market.  Here’s a photo of me looking down into the big market.


It’s considered impolite to take photos of people here so we had to take this at a distance to be polite.

The big souk, Jema el-Fnaa, opens in the late morning, but they really get going when the sun goes down.


I like the souk at night, when we ate on a rooftop at Kafe Kessabine and could look down on the crowd.

Then swarms of people walk around, stop for coffee or tea, meet neighbors and talk, and, of course, haggle over prices with shop keepers.

In the daytime, you see lots of pigeons clean up and also getting fed bread by people.


This 12th Century Mosque, Koutoubia Mosque, is near the big souk and we saw it everyday.

Even though everything is sold at the souk, Nona and Papa just looked and didn’t buy anything — you know, like they always do.

Oh, I forgot to tell you, if you go to a souk, you need to keep your money and cell phone in a zipper pocket or inside your blouse.  Know why?  Pick pockets.  Nona says they’re “opportunists.” New word for me!  “If you give them an opportunity to take your money, they will,” she said.

That scared me a bit, and I said, “Nona, please don’t give them an opportunity to take me!”  She assured me that pick pockets just want money, cameras, and jewelry, but not plastic jurassics.  Whew! After that, I could really enjoy moving through the swarm of people.

I think that my favorite memories of Marrakech may be the doors.  The doors of places on our walk to and from the souk were so pretty.


Papa took this of Nona by a typical door on our walk home from the souk.

You just gotta come here to see the doors! No kidding!

Oh, no, we’re going to bed now, and I haven’t gotten to tell you about our riad. Next time, OK.  I promise.

I’m your friend.



September 2014

*New reader? Get oriented below.

  • You may be asking yourself, “Who is Solbit?” Solbit is a fictional character, but she is a real plastic dinosaur, sent to us unsolicited in a package we ordered from Photojojo. So, she’s a plastic jurassic. Solbit is short for the four names given her by our grandchildren: Sparkle, Orangie, Lulu, Breakit. We tend to use her given names for when she’s been naughty. Thank you for visiting Tales of a Plastic Jurassic. Solbit likes company and hopes you’ll come back.
  • You can learn more about Solbit at her About page and in the earlier posts, “Solbit: How I Got My Name” and “Solbit: How I Got to Travel.”

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