A late night in Palais el Badii

One night last summer Keith came home from work with the news: Puro Beach (the lounge/beach club we enjoyed in Mallorca a while back) was sponsoring an Arabian Nights-themed bash in Marrakech in October. A number of cool DJs and musicians were expected to perform outdoors in the ruins of Palais el Badii. "How about we time our arrival in Morocco with Puro?" Keith asked.

Medieval ruins under the stars, desert breezes, music, drink, food, Eurotrash, and of course, Bryan Ferry! How could we miss this?

We got to Morocco a day late because of an unusual flight change. Not only did our flight time change last minute, but so did the day, and even the actual airport. We lost most of a day in Milan trying to either get another flight (700 Euros!) or find lodging in Milan. We decided to just stay the extra day in Milan, resigning ourselves to eating the cost of our first riad in Marrakech.

Up at 3:45am to catch our flight, we waited in the cold morning air at the train station to get the airport shuttle. At the Milan Bergamo airport we started to get a flavor of Morocco: Robed women with tattooed faces (three vertical lines running from the bottom lip to the chins), hennaed hands & feet stood with us in line, along with their many small children. Men were wearing traditional hooded jellabas, looking very Darth Maul (sp?) from Star Wars.

We took a taxi to the medina, where we were to meet someone to walk us to our riad. A crippled luggage porter with a wheeled cart appeared. He brought our bags the rest of the way, and we hurried to keep pace with him, weaving through narrow muddy alleys, staying clear of the various bikes, motor scooters, feral cats, and hanging sides of lamb that were covered in flies(“Remind me not to have the lamb” I said).



They served us a delicious lunch at the riad, made from scratch. It took almost 2 hours to prepare; they took our order and then went out to buy all the ingredients. After this amazing meal (and two bottles of wine) we went to our room and crashed. Waking up cranky 3 hours later, the last thing I wanted to do was get ready to go to an all-night rave.

Around 9pm we wandered over to the Palais el Badii. Camels and Moroccan musicians lined the route into the castle. Lanterns and rugs were laid end to end along the path—-an Arabian red carpet. In the low lying areas of the ruins, fields of hurricane lanterns were lit, giving the grounds an exotic glow. Fire pits with aromatic woods and multiple “lounging areas” of pillows and torches were set up for the VIP crowd (unfortunately that wasn’t us—- we got the General Admission tickets).











It looked as if the venue could have accommodated two thousand, but less than half that number were in attendance. To make up for the anemic crowd, the organizers temporarily opened the front stage area to everyone. When Bryan Ferry eventually came on stage, it felt like we were at a small concert, right up near the stage, with no crowds, and no pushing our way through. Our target was in sight! I had a mission-- a Bryan Ferry autograph was my intended souvenir of the evening, even though it meant sneaking into the VIP area.



It took a little work, and there were a few setbacks, but after befriending a few of the Morroccan security guards, twisting our wristbands inside out (from cheapseats-purple to VIP-white) and using a little creative smalltalk, we were in. Keith and I triumphantly surveyed the scene, ready to enjoy all the free food and cocktails. We strolled by torchlight among the tall beautiful VIPs, pretending to belong. Bryan Ferry & entourage were lounging around as we suspected. We chatted up members of his band, and I even spoke with the charming Mr Ferry for a while. Mission accomplished:



…and on our Wallpaper book, no less. How perfect is that!?

(Heather if you’re reading this, we know you’re a big fan... we have something for you as well; keep an eye on your mailbox;-)