“Which way up does it go?”

“That’s the top…are you sure? I don’t think those streets run off Djemaa el Fna in that direction…hang on…I don’t think thats even Djemaa el Fna! It’s bloody upside-down!”

And so I turned the Time Out Marrakech guidebook right-side-up again to figure out if the concept of ‘a map of the souk’ was actually something that was based in reality or just a deceptive guide book fiction. There are a lot of tiny nameless little streets shown on it with very general labels like ‘Leather’ and ‘Textiles’ that ran across 3 inches of map and gave no clue as to whether inch 1, inch 2 or inch 3 was the right area. Sometimes the labels overlapped and when that was the case, I was completely stuffed!

“Hmm…think we should get a guide to show us around?”

Now, the thought did cross my mind but how much of a useless tourist would I feel if I had to get someone to show me through all those tiny, dark, crazy, crowded…hang on a minute. There could be something in this guide business after all.

No…independent! Think independent! Deep breath…pick a passageway at random……and get run over by a thirteen year-old on a motorbike negotiating a 6 foot wide space filled with people at 20 miles an hour!!! Was he insane?? I feel a gentle but firm grip on my arm pulling out me of the press of people and vehicles. A helpful individual, I think. Actually, no, it turned out to be a very helpful lantern salesman.

“Look. Come inside. Very high quality. Will fit in your hand baggage, no problem”. This guy was smooth! For a moment I did have a vision of my sliding the 3 foot high lantern he was pointing at into the BA overhead locker and then reality kicked in when I visualised the flight attendants response…

“Ah..no thank you. I don’t think it will”.

He then proceeded to tell me all about this American couple who bought a lantern just like that one and that they had assured him that they would fit it in as he had responsibly asked them before selling it. oooo…k…sure. Gotta go now!

Extricating myself from his grip, I took my second deep breath…looked left and right…and then left again for good measure..and plunged further into the souk.

Firm grip on my arm again! No, I wasn’t in the way of a motorcycle and I was capable of standing upright by myself so what was all the ‘gripping’ about?

“Hey..Fish and Chips…Fish and Chips..come inside!”

Eh? Fish and chips? Peering in, I just saw slippers.

“What fish and chips?” I ask.

“You’re English right? Fish and Chips yeah?” he says, beaming.

“No! I’m a bloody Aussie thank you very little!”

My razor sharp wit completely flies over his head. In fact, it could probably have come back and buzzed the air traffic controller, the impact was so minimal.

“Ohh Yeahh!! Crocodile Dundee? Right? Yeaaahh! Kangaroo!”

Damn, he was pleased with himself but I’d say most of the English people I know would not appreciate being referred to as ‘Fish and Chips’ and no way was I going to let someone put me in the same league as Paul…bloody..Hogan!! Puh-leaase! Nice slippers..thanks but NO thanks!

To my left, a man dashes out of his stall toward me viciously attacking a brass mirror with a file. Shit! Now I really wish I had a guide. I think I’m going to get beaten sensless by a mirror salesman and no-one would ever find my body.

“Look, look!” he says “Real solid brass…not painted..solid.. look, look!”

Ah, it all becomes clear. He is not going to stab me with his badly mistreated file that’s actually meant for woodwork. He is demonstrating that he has the genuine article, not painted by completely destroying the one in his hand. I wonder, am I supposed to buy the one he has ruined..as it is clearly proven to be solid brass..or am I to buy an different one which he cannot prove is the real deal without giving me damaged goods? What a quandry. So I decide not to buy one at all.

Starting to feel a bit pathetic. Thinking I should have bought something by now but these guys are really intimidating..in the nicest possible way of course. I don’t feel like I can browse their stalls because the moment I step inside, they start the hard sell. I’ve never haggled for anything before so I don’t know how to turn their hard sell into a mutual exchange about the value of a set of 6 tea glasses?

Deep breath 3. This is ridiculous. I am going to buy something. A nice throw..yeah…that’s something I really wanted. I found a brightly lit stall with a myriad of coloured fabrics all of which I wanted immediately! Especially the green, gold and brown one.

“You like this one, yes?”. The proprietor had arrived.

Damn, must have looked at it for more than a split second and now he’s onto me. OK…guide book rules of bargaining…I read something about don’t counter offer until they make 2 offers…um..only pay 2/3 of their starting price…er…the rest is a blur of useless half-remembered rubbish.

“How much is it?” I blurt out. Idiot! Idiot! I silently shout at myself…Mistake!!

“900 dirhams”

A currency conversion takes place at the speed of a lame duck in my head. 55 quid?? 55 quid??!!! I wouldn’t even pay that much in London!

“Um…that sounds a bit expensive…”

I hate the meek little voice I can hear coming out of my mouth! Aha! Inspiration strikes. I’ll divert his attention!

“How much for this one then?” I say, pointing at one that was less colourful and smaller.

“Oh, thats 300 dirhams but how much will you pay for the one you like? Come on, you aren’t the first and you won’t be the last!” he bellows.

First or last what? Huh? Clearly my diversionary tactic had failed but his was working brilliantly!

Come on, say 300 dirhams! Come on!

“Er…400 dirhams?”

Bugger, bugger bugger! Not only did I say 400 but it came out sounding like a question! I’m doomed!

“600 and we make a deal, yes?” at the top of his lungs again!

God, get me out of here!

“Yes, a deal! 600! Sure!”.

He wraps up my nice throw and assures me the entire time what good quality it is. I feel like telling him ‘look mate, the deal is done, no point spinning the lagos now’. As I walk to the door, I spy some cushion covers that look interesting.

“HOW MUCH WILL YOU PAY FOR THEM?” he hollers right in my ear!

I rapidly pull my sunglasses down to spare me from any more of his assumptions that I am interested in anything else in his stall, say ‘I don’t want them..thanks!!” and take off at a run!

I can’t believe it! My heart is pounding and I feel like all the blood has rushed into my head! Is this what bargaining does to a person? I’m a wreck!

But it’s kind of exhilaratng as well. I think I’ve been ripped off…actually, I’m pretty sure I got ripped off…but I’m ok with that..at the moment anyway. I’ve gotta give this another go! What else do I want? Well, I did forget to pack socks. Maybe I could try and buy some socks.

I wander off feeling like a bit of an idiot looking for socks amongst the Aladdin’s cave atmosphere and the magic colours of dyed cloth drying overhead but I’m determined to give it my best shot!

Right! Socks! I spy a stall with hundred of different pairs of socks! OK! I’ll try a new tactic. Be very matter-of-fact and ignore his hard sell.

“Good quality socks! 40 dirhams each!”

I give him a look like he’s been smoking crack.

“40 dirhams? I don’t think you have any I like anyway.”

“Ok! Ok! I can do you a special price of 30 dirham each! Very low price!” with such a look of sincerity on his face.

“I want 5 pairs at 20 dirhams each.”

Great! Sounded like a statement, not a question! Fantastic progress!

To my surprise, he gives me a huge grin and says “Ok! Good deal!”. A good bargainer would probably get them for 10 dirhams however I choose 5 pairs of socks, he bags them up and I go off on my merry way, heart rate a little higher than normal but because I’m pleased with myself..not terrified!

Bag in hand, strutting back to the square I hear a strangely familiar sound. MOTORBIKE! Without so much as a backward glance, I jumped nimbly out of the way with room to spare. Who needs a map? I’m a local!