Due to the lingering thrill of the midnight markets, I found myself forgetting to document the experience of walking from the square back to the riad after dark. Maybe it went totally over my head but in retrospect, I think it was just too intense for me to process and write down at the moment, so the reflection begins here:
When it became completely dark during the market hours and we had finished our rooftop dinner (which was only possible to navigate because of my French speaking), it was time to head back home to bed. The distance from the square to the riad is a approximately 15 minutes without any issues, foot traffic, or motorcycles. This was not the case as we started back. It turns out that every inch of the minuscule streets are packed with moving bodies at sundown. Families of four or more bustled through, children ran rampant and played, souk sellers showed off items, and travelers tripped over themselves. Motorcycles and bikes are forced to actually honk or just travel through the mass of people, as the streets are open and there are no road signs. Children waited until the vehicles were inches away from them until they jumped to safety with laughter. Honks were heard every few seconds and it is nearly impossible to hear yourself think. Arabic, French and other African languages coated the crowd with a thick weight. There was no free space to walk, and getting to the riad took us an approximate 45 minutes. Men saw us Western women, caught our eyes among the commotion and winked. When I ignored persistent advertisers and sellers of young age they added hopefully, "I'm single, you know." With no ring visible on my finger I was available to them for all they knew, a young woman from a free world who looked fit to marry, wide eyed and seemingly naive in the heart of a country described in fairy tales. I
Then again, the whole world is a book.
This who do not travel read only a page.