Snakes, Monkeys and Spicy Sunsets at Place de Jemaa el Fnaa


I will never forget the first time that I saw a monkey wearing a nappy or the weathered man who lifted up a large basket to reveal a big fat python. Women offered to draw henna on our hands and glided under billowing dark blue robes, following us like large phantoms with piercing eyes, across the wide expanse of dryness. The acrobats, the pipe sounds and the mounds of dried fruit being sold off the burrow must be considered the most “normal” of activities conducted at Place Jemaa el Fnaa, with the rest essentially being a real mine field of weirdness. The square is wide and the punters are strategically placed, or at least it feels this way. Place Jemaa el Fnaa makes you stop and gaze but you must do so at your own peril. Everything ugly is but a large trap and you will have to shell out to try to extrapolate yourself. The beauty of the atmosphere, the stalls of perfumes and wicker baskets, the men waving and gesturing to you behind the rows fruit juice stands, the horses and carts gracefully clip clopping over the warm wide expanse of Africa’s biggest square will all, if you gaze too intently, hypnotize you much like a flute hypnotizes a cobra.

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It took us a while to get there even though we weren’t too far away. Having dropped our bags off we stepped back into the heat of the day. We left the comforts of our beautiful hotel and made our way into the heart of the Medina. Crafts, jewels, pottery and leather goods poured out it seemed from cracks in the walls. Carpets and clothes lined the yellow walls of the Mosque and apothecaries decorated their shops with piles of saffron and pigment.”Where do you come from?” “Come and have a look!” We were greeted and encouraged to browse by all. Men pointed us towards Tombs and Palaces and some told us they were closed, helpful information, although our destination wasn’t to be there that day. We continued our journey onwards, thanking as we went, politely refusing advances from all sides. It wasn’t threatening but it was quite tiring. We got out our map and having refused instructions from a number of people we were befriended and eventually followed a kind young boy who took us rather a long way round through the Jewish quarter and via his father’s shop, where we got to smell fantastic natural perfumes, teas and spices. It wasn’t part of the plan but it was fun.

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As the day grew long and the sun began descending low into the sky we sat down at a local restaurant opposite Cafe de France. Local Moroccan families sat patiently next to us, their food delivered to their tables but left untouched for what seemed like hours. Little boys ran back to their mums with full bottles of freshly squeezed orange juice and women with sun glasses and gold earrings produced pastries including pancakes and french pains aux chocolat for their families. The shadows grew longer and the blue sky became stained red and the market was engulfed in an orange glow.

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More people were now out, and mopeds sped up and down the main square. The whole sound of the beeping vehicles, the ephemeral pipes of the charmers and the cries of the sellers rose higher and higher and merged with the buzz of the sun. Then a cry rang out, a chant on a tanoy, the Call to Pray – this one although sounding like all the others we had heard throughout the day was particularly special as it marked the end of the first day of Ramadan, where devout Muslims of all ages go without food or water for 17 hours. Bottles were opened, tea was poured and glasses were downed. We wished our neighbors “bon appetite” and with smiles on all of our faces we ate our tagine in the glowing evening, side by side with those families breaking their daily fast with their Ramadan breakfast, a very spiritually powerful moment which we had the privilege of witnessing.



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As night descended upon the square, Place de Jemaa el Fnaa came to life. We walked through throngs of people and passed the many food stalls which had been assembled quickly just before the Call to Prayer. Music played, shops which had been until then closed, opened and so it was then under the gaze of the moon that we set off into the souks of Marrakesh. But that I’m afraid, is another story 😉

Author: Abigail Royston

I am an ex-professional tennis player and have just graduated from King's College in London. I share daily fashion outfits and stories of my travels and the tour. Every story has a beginning, but I will start mine here, at the start of something big. For us this was a journey of a lifetime, where dreams were made and broken, where friendships were cherished and torn apart. We lived and still live the life of aspiration and we tell the tale of victories and defeats that come with growing up at such a young age on the brink of greatness and fame. In our world youth, beauty and riches combine. We trained hard but played even harder. Our parties’ were and always will be legendary, our travels exotic and carefree. We were becoming stars. My Girls On Tour showcases street style looks, avant-garde fashion, new designers, fashion shows as well as travel stories and adventures. A fun window into the glamorous world of a professional tennis player turned fashionista, this is the place for wonderlust and fashion inspiration. Instragram @abigirlx Twitter @Abigailroyston

12 thoughts on “Snakes, Monkeys and Spicy Sunsets at Place de Jemaa el Fnaa”

  1. Wow, you’ve quite a talent for painting vivid pictures with words. Lots of marvelous images! And the pictures themselves tell as story. The last line of your first graph reminded me of Nietzsche’s advice: “Do not gaze too long into the abyss, lest the abyss gaze back into thee.”


    1. Thank you so much for your lovely comment Tom, you are absolutely right when you say that the last line is similar to Nietzsche’s advice and it states precisely what I was intending to convey in such a beautiful way. Thank you so much for sharing that with me, I loved it! 🙂 I’m glad that you enjoyed the writing and the pictures and it makes me happy to think that they were sufficient to portray a sense of what it was like for me at Place de Jenaa El Fenaa. All the best, Abi xxx


  2. im glad That u love ur experience here in Marrakesh… And also u know more Things about our Culture and Tradicions…for us as Muslims…Ramdan is one of the best month of all the year….Thanks again how u discrib ur experience here in Morocco 🙂


    1. That makes me so happy Morad that you should feel that way. I have tried to be as honest as I could in my description and to convey the awe and fascination with which I perceived this ancient city. Truly it was magnificent and yes I had a wonderful time! Witnessing Ramadan was very powerful and it was a true privileged to be a part (if only as a bystander) of Marrakesh during such an important and spiritual time. I agree that I have learnt more about your culture and traditions and I feel richer for it. Loved it and can’t wait to go back! 🙂 Thank you again for all your great support and comments. All the best, Abi xxx


    1. Thank you so much John! I tend to write too much, but then its hard to describe the atmosphere without doing so. It was such a mystical place and loved seeing the ancient traditions being continued and kept alive. I’m glad you like the pictures. I hope they compliment the description and inspires you to maybe go there one day? 🙂 All the best, Abi xxx


    1. Aww thank you! I’m so happy that you like them! Marrakesh was such a magical place, there were so many photo ops it was quite easy really to get a few good ones! Again I’m happy that you enjoyed the post! Abi xxx


    1. Thank you so much! I am so glad that you liked the photos. I must however give all the credit to the beautiful square and the people who made it so exotic and interesting and easy to photograph.

      When I went to Marrakesh it was difficult to picture the square and no guidebooks I felt really helped with my visualization of it, so I hope that this has in someway managed to fill that gap 🙂

      I really appreciate your comment and hope that you will enjoy my posts about my upcoming trip to Seville.

      Best wishes,

      Abi xxx


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