Chris Penhall's Blog, page 10
October 11, 2020
Magic in the Air – Cascais and New Beginnings
When I wrote my debut novel, The House That Alice Built, I had no intention of embarking on a sequel. That was until I finally sent the book of to my publishers, with all of the edits done, and realised that I didn’t want to say goodbye to Alice just yet.
So, I had to think of ways to continue her story and follow her fortunes in Portugal once she had dealt with the issues around her beloved home in London. And as part of that I decided to take a trip to Lisbon and Cascais, which is where the novels are set, and where I lived many years ago. I hadn’t actually been back for 15 years, as I now visit Lagos in the Algarve a few times a year instead, but Cascais captured my heart when we had a home there, and it’s never let go.
In the little boutique hotel I stayed at opposite Rossio Square in Lisbon, the information pack had a quote from Alice in Wonderland. What a co-incidence, I thought, given the name of my book, but thought nothing of it. Although I do remember the bit that said “For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.”
When we set off for Cascais I was worried it wouldn’t be the same. But, as soon as I got on the train at Cais de Sodre in Lisbon and headed west, all the memories came flooding back – we sped past Belem where we would amble around on lazy Sunday mornings and Carcavelos where my children went to school, then on through Estoril where we’d occasionally stop for morning coffees.
I almost jumped off the train in Cascais and virtually ran down the narrow cobbled streets to the square where a lot of the action in the books takes place, anxious in case it had changed beyond recognition. It wasn’t exactly the same, but it hadn’t changed very much, and most importantly it felt exactly the same. It was a sunny Sunday November morning so there were not a lot of people about in Largo Luis de Camoes, but all the tables were set up ready for the weekend customers.
I hadn’t been for so many years that I didn’t think I would know anyone there. But as I took photos of my old haunt, with its bright pink bougainvillea and whitewashed walls, I noticed someone waving at me from the other side of the square. He looked familiar…because he was! An old friend who ran a restaurant there had moved away and was now back. And he recognised me after all that time! So, we had a quick catch up on the last 15 years over a coffee before I headed off to explore the rest of the town, and when I came back, a busker was singing, and more people were dotted around the tables. As I sat down, I said to the waiter that I only wanted a drink rather than a meal, and he said…”What more do you want…music, wine, love……” And I realised that what I remembered and poured into the books was real and not simply a result of rose tinted spectacles looking back!
I like to think there’s a bit of magic in the air in Cascais, and if you read The House That Alice Built and New Beginnings at the Little House in the Sun you may well agree. As Alice in Wonderland said, “..very few things indeed were really impossible.”
New Beginnings at the Little House in the Sun is published by Ruby Fiction and available on e-book and audio from all major platforms
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September 21, 2020
Evonne Wareham – A Wedding on the Riviera
I love reading novels that make their settings come alive, so I’m really looking forward to Evonne Wareham’s new book, A Wedding on the Riviera published on March 22nd.
Here she gives as a bit of an insight into what to expect…
Thank you for inviting me onto your blog to talk about A Wedding on the Riviera. I write romantic suspense – more dead bodies than your average romance – but as you can guess from the title, this one is at the lighter end of the spectrum, although I do write grittier ones as well. This is the second in what I hope will be a ‘Riviera’ Series, and features a group of friends who are trying to trap runaway groom – a con man who absconds with a large amount of money, leaving his bride at the church. The crime and its aftermath are dark, but there is sunshine and escapism and glitz as well. Alongside the crime plot, there is a fully fledged romance. My heroine and hero, Nadine and Ryan, are part of the group trapping the thief and that throws them together. There are, of course, barriers to be overcome and they both have baggage from the past. Their story works itself out alongside the crime plot.
I have a weakness for locations that are sunny and glamorous, so it was no hardship to set a series on the Riviera. When I added a very up-market wedding to the mix, it got to be even more fun. Women’s fiction often features the run up to a wedding and often tension brings out the worst in the protagonists. This time I didn’t have to cope with the bride from hell, or her mother, as the wedding is the bait that lures the con man into a sting operation. I was able to go completely over the top, without any interference from anyone. With money no object, the only limit was my imagination. I was able to create a beautiful villa as the wedding venue, and fill it with flowers, lights and music. I also got to join the bride picking out her wedding dress and Nadine went for something slightly unusual. I enjoyed writing that scene, and I hope readers will enjoy it too.
The setting of the book and a holiday feeling is an essential ingredient of the escapism, and I do try hard to make sure readers feel that they are experiencing the sights, sounds, scents and tastes. The first draft of the book was complete and I was planning a trip to the Riviera in May for extra atmosphere and to take masses of photographs. It was a tour by train, via Paris, to the Riviera. A hotel in Nice and trips to Antibes, Cannes, Villefranche, Monaco – art in the Chagall, Matisse and Cocteau museums, wonderful food, beaches, sunshine and sunsets. I was really looking forward to it, but of course, it didn’t happen. I’m hoping that I’ll make it there next year, but for this book I had to rely on vivid memories of past holidays, tourist guides and the Internet. Photos are fine, and I was able to wander in video in the Cours Salaya market in Nice, to refresh my memory when my heroine and hero spend a morning there, but it isn’t quite the same as the real thing. I hope even so I have succeeded in conjuring up the atmosphere of a trip to the South of France.
Bio
Evonne is an award winning Welsh author of romantic suspense – more crime and dead bodies than your average romance. She likes to set her book in her native Wales, or for a touch of glamorous escapism, in favourite holiday destinations in Europe. She is a Doctor of Philosophy and an historian, and a member of both the Romantic Novelists’ Association and the Crime Writers’ Association.
Twitter https://twitter.com/evonnewareham
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/evonnewarehamauthor/
Website www.evonnewareham.com
Blog www.evonneonwednesday.blogspot.com
Book Description
A return to the Riviera on the trail of a runaway groom …
When out-of-work actor Ryan Calder attends a wedding as the plus-one of successful businesswoman, Nadine Wells, he doesn’t expect to get in a scuffle with the groom.
But Ryan has a good reason. He recognises the groom from another wedding where the same man made a quick getaway, taking the wedding money and leaving a heartbroken bride in his wake. It seems he’s struck again, and Nadine’s poor friend is the target.
Ryan and Nadine decide they can’t let it happen to another woman, so with a group of friends they hatch a plan that will take them to the French Riviera, hot on the heels of the crooked groom. But could their scheme to bring him to justice also succeed in bringing them closer together?
Buy links for A Wedding on the Riviera
Kobo https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/a-wedding-on-the-riviera
Barnes and Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-wedding-on-the-riviera-evonne-wareham/1137460211?ean=2940162842545
The post Evonne Wareham – A Wedding on the Riviera appeared first on Chris Penhall.
September 18, 2020
Evonne Wareham – A Wedding on the Riviera
I love reading novels that make their settings come alive, so I’m really looking forward to Evonne Wareham’s new book, A Wedding on the Riviera published on March 22nd.
Here she gives as a bit of an insight into what to expect…
Thank you for inviting me onto your blog to talk about A Wedding on the Riviera. I write romantic suspense – more dead bodies than your average romance – but as you can guess from the title, this one is at the lighter end of the spectrum, although I do write grittier ones as well. This is the second in what I hope will be a ‘Riviera’ Series, and features a group of friends who are trying to trap runaway groom – a con man who absconds with a large amount of money, leaving his bride at the church. The crime and its aftermath are dark, but there is sunshine and escapism and glitz as well. Alongside the crime plot, there is a fully fledged romance. My heroine and hero, Nadine and Ryan, are part of the group trapping the thief and that throws them together. There are, of course, barriers to be overcome and they both have baggage from the past. Their story works itself out alongside the crime plot.
I have a weakness for locations that are sunny and glamorous, so it was no hardship to set a series on the Riviera. When I added a very up-market wedding to the mix, it got to be even more fun. Women’s fiction often features the run up to a wedding and often tension brings out the worst in the protagonists. This time I didn’t have to cope with the bride from hell, or her mother, as the wedding is the bait that lures the con man into a sting operation. I was able to go completely over the top, without any interference from anyone. With money no object, the only limit was my imagination. I was able to create a beautiful villa as the wedding venue, and fill it with flowers, lights and music. I also got to join the bride picking out her wedding dress and Nadine went for something slightly unusual. I enjoyed writing that scene, and I hope readers will enjoy it too.
The setting of the book and a holiday feeling is an essential ingredient of the escapism, and I do try hard to make sure readers feel that they are experiencing the sights, sounds, scents and tastes. The first draft of the book was complete and I was planning a trip to the Riviera in May for extra atmosphere and to take masses of photographs. It was a tour by train, via Paris, to the Riviera. A hotel in Nice and trips to Antibes, Cannes, Villefranche, Monaco – art in the Chagall, Matisse and Cocteau museums, wonderful food, beaches, sunshine and sunsets. I was really looking forward to it, but of course, it didn’t happen. I’m hoping that I’ll make it there next year, but for this book I had to rely on vivid memories of past holidays, tourist guides and the Internet. Photos are fine, and I was able to wander in video in the Cours Salaya market in Nice, to refresh my memory when my heroine and hero spend a morning there, but it isn’t quite the same as the real thing. I hope even so I have succeeded in conjuring up the atmosphere of a trip to the South of France.
Bio
Evonne is an award winning Welsh author of romantic suspense – more crime and dead bodies than your average romance. She likes to set her book in her native Wales, or for a touch of glamorous escapism, in favourite holiday destinations in Europe. She is a Doctor of Philosophy and an historian, and a member of both the Romantic Novelists’ Association and the Crime Writers’ Association.
Twitter https://twitter.com/evonnewareham
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/evonnewarehamauthor/
Website www.evonnewareham.com
Blog www.evonneonwednesday.blogspot.com
Book Description
A return to the Riviera on the trail of a runaway groom …
When out-of-work actor Ryan Calder attends a wedding as the plus-one of successful businesswoman, Nadine Wells, he doesn’t expect to get in a scuffle with the groom.
But Ryan has a good reason. He recognises the groom from another wedding where the same man made a quick getaway, taking the wedding money and leaving a heartbroken bride in his wake. It seems he’s struck again, and Nadine’s poor friend is the target.
Ryan and Nadine decide they can’t let it happen to another woman, so with a group of friends they hatch a plan that will take them to the French Riviera, hot on the heels of the crooked groom. But could their scheme to bring him to justice also succeed in bringing them closer together?
Buy links for A Wedding on the Riviera
Kobo https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/a-wedding-on-the-riviera
Barnes and Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-wedding-on-the-riviera-evonne-wareham/1137460211?ean=2940162842545
The post Evonne Wareham – A Wedding on the Riviera appeared first on Chris Penhall.
June 18, 2020
My Story – July 2020
In July’s edition of Essex Life Magazine I wrote about how I achieved my ambition and became a published author.
The post My Story – July 2020 appeared first on Chris Penhall.
June 12, 2020
Claire Sheldon’s debut book – Perfect Lie
Claire Sheldon’s debut novel, Perfect Lie, is published by Ruby Fiction on e-book on 16th June, so I thought it would be nice to catch up with her so she could tell us about her road to publication and what she has coming up next.
Tell us about the book
My book is about a girl called Jen and her family, whose past comes and haunts her when a body of a woman turns up in the town of Long Eaton. DI Chris Jackson and his team are called to investigate. No one knows who the woman is but then they get a hit on her DNA. Jen’s past is now knocking on her front door and she has to make the choice between promises once made and the life she has built up for herself.
The ruby-lit team have done an amazing job with the “official” blurb, as it really doesn’t give much away and keeps the reveals of the book hidden until the reader turns the page.
How did you come up with the idea?
I have watched a lot of crime dramas over the years, The Bill and Spooks especially. I also read a lot of procedural crime novels which I love. So with my television loves and a little bit of day dreaming Jen and Chris were created. Jen who was at the height of her career, but then she did the one thing she never thought she would and fell in love. As for Chris he is also working his way through the police ranks, having been brought up on the same stuff I was. He joined the police on his 18th birthday and never looked back.
Tell us about your journey to being published
While I was writing my book I signed up for Womentoring, which was a scheme where women supported other women in their writing, I was luck enough to be picked up by Rachel Burton. She set me on my way towards publication, but it has been a long slog! After a false start and many of different versions from what I originally wrote I submitted to Choc-Lit after they were recommended to me by one of their other authors and I was lucky enough to be signed in December 2019.
Are there any authors that you are particularly influenced by?
After picking up reading again thanks to C L Taylor and Mark Edwards, their work – though not crime – and wanting to be able to write like them has been a big influence. And when it comes to Nottingham crime Rebecca Bradley and her Hannah Robbins series. There are so many authors that I look up to and want my writing to be as great as theirs.
How did you feel when you found out your book was going to be published?
I had already been here before and then I was proper bouncing off the walls! So this time round every point I’ve been waiting for it all to fall apart… My initial meeting with the team at Ruby-lit, the contract, the announcement, part of me is still worried that it won’t make it over the finish line on the 16th. So fingers crossed 
May 26, 2020
Choc Lit Virtual Festival round up
As part of the Choc Lit Virtual Book Festival recently, I recorded a chat with my BBC Essex friend and colleague, Tony Fisher about books, writing, and about finally getting published. You can hear it here:https://soundcloud.com/you/tracks
I also asked my friend, Judith Dawson, an artist based in Lagos in Portugal, to put together this about how she discovered her artistic talents when she lived in Cascais in Portugal many years ago, which is also where Alice, the main character from my novel, The House That Alice Built rediscovered hers
https://www.facebook.com/shopblueflamingo/videos/573835876581657
To finish off, myself and fellow Choc-Lit author Lucy Keeling discussed how it felt to be published authors after our success in the Choc-Lit Search for a Star competition in 2019
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May 11, 2020
The House That Alice Built photo tour
The House That Alice Built is set in Cascais in Portugal, where I lived many years ago. It made a huge impression on me and some of the locations I use in the book are real, whereas others are a mixture of reality and imagination based on other beautiful places in Portugal that I know well and love very much.
If you ever get the opportunity to visit the country, I took some photographs on my most recent visit to give you a bit of a taster.
Farol Santa Marta
Next to the stone bridge and opposite Parque Marechal Carmona, Farol Santa Marta is a place dear to Alice’s heart. She passes it every time she walks from her apartment along the sea road and into the town. It’s also the setting for one or two encounters – both romantic and…not..
Largo Luis de Camoes is a vibrant square in the centre of Cascais, full of cafes, bars and restaurants. People are constantly passing through, sitting, chatting, and relaxing, and it becomes an important meeting place for Alice.
The square is named after Luis Vaz de Camoes, who is regarded as Portugal’s greatest poet, and is best remembered for his epic work, Os Lusiadas.
The Boca de Inferno – The Mouth of Hell – is on the sea road going west from the centre of Cascais. Originally a sea cave it collapsed leaving a chasm into which the wild Atlantic waves crash, and during strong storms the water explodes upwards like a volcano. Alice imagines at one point throwing her phone into it…
Alice spends some time discovering beautiful Lisbon, including Castelo Sao Jorge in the Santa Cruz district of the city. It’s at the top of its seven hills and its easy to just stand and stare simply drinking in the view.
Azelejo’s are everywhere in Portugal – including on seats. This one is at Miradouro de Santa Luzia in Lisbon. This popular observation point provides stunning views over the city and the river and its where Alice heads to on her (eventful) birthday
And here’s another view…just because…
Lisbon features a lot in the sequel to The House That Alice Built. Here’s one of Alice’s favourite spots – from Arco de Rua Augusta into Praca de Commercio with the river beyond.
The novel is set in Cascais near Lisbon, but I also spend a lot of time in Lagos in the Algarve, which has inspired some of my descriptions of the back streets of Cascais. This is a little square tucked away near to the city walls in Lagos along Rua Marreiros Neto which I re-imagined in Cascais and where Alice finds herself towards the end of the novel when she is a little bit fraught…
The sequel to the House That Alice Built, which will be published in the summer, meets Alice in Cascais in spring when the jacaranda trees begin to bloom. I haven’t got a photo of a Jacaranda tree in Cascais, but here’s a magnificent specimen in the centre of Lagos.
The House That Alice Built is published by Ruby Fiction.
Currently available on e-book and audio, the paperback will be published in July 2020.
And the sequel will be released in the summer.
For more information visit http://www.chrispenhall.co.uk/the-hou...
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Audrey Bowling – an artist inspired by the landscape
The House That Alice Built is set in Cascais in Portugal, and its pretty streets, gorgeous beaches and beautiful setting inspired me to write the novel. Alice herself rediscovers her creative side when she’s there, and finds what she sees and feels enables her to begin to paint, draw and photograph again. So, I thought I’d ask an artist about how she is inspired by what she sees, and this is her blog
Audrey Bowling is an abstract, mixed-media artist working with an emphasis on collage and you can see more on her work via www.audreybowlingart.co.uk
As an avid traveller, I photograph a lot of landscapes. When time allows I will also sketch them. Most of all I stare at them, taking in the shapes, shadows, colours, movement and atmosphere.
I agree with Anthony Gormley when he says “art is not about making accurate descriptions of things that actually exist. It can be about allowing things to arise”. Although sometimes I have a specific place in mind and may even paint a realistic landscape, such as ‘Laxamýri, Iceland’ .
Laxamýri, Iceland by Audrey Bowling
More often when creating I take my materials and allow something to evolve. As I’m working I may recognise a shape or find I’m working with particular colours and only afterwards do I realise that it came from a view of a particular place, a memory of a holiday experience or a photograph I’ve seen.
‘Shropshire Undulations’ is an example of this.
Shropshire Undulations by Audrey Bowling
As I was working with the paper and inks, something about the shape and colours reminded me of a recent trip and wandering through those hills in the autumn.
‘Winter’s First Breath’ is from the many hills I’ve seen with the early snowfall just brushing the tops of those mountains and the dark, late autumnal slopes below.
A trip through the American deserts of New Mexico, Arizona and Utah were brought to mind when I saw the colours of the papers involved in these two artworks, ‘Midwestern Memories’ and ‘Midwestern Dreaming’. The shapes of the desert cliffs and colours of the rocks were perfectly summed up, especially when placed against a clear blue sky.
midwestern memories
midwestern dreaming
The landscape can also influence me in other ways, seeing the reflections and buildings within it and things I find discarded to become part of it.
A mixed-media monoprint of Tintern Abbey somehow evoked the slightly unearthly atmosphere of the place.
Spirit of Tintern 1 by Audrey Bowling
Another piece ‘Gearing Up’ has slight leanings towards landscape and was definitely inspired by my love of hills and countryside. This also incorporates a cog, one of many objects found on my travels and makes me feel that our landscape is also shaped by our use of it.
Gearing Up by Audrey Bowling
I have long felt that an artwork is not necessarily about what the artist is trying to say, but what the viewer takes from it and this is where I feel abstract art is more effective than the realistic, which although beautiful in its own right, leaves less for the observer to discover.
Looking forward, I hope that my artwork will continue to evolve. Whilst maintaining my love of landscape. I will try to abstract that landscape further, incorporating texture and found objects to give depth and feeling, as well as providing a point of contemplation. These next are a sample of my next series of artworks.
Stormy Skies, Light Reflections and Harbour Reflections
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April 6, 2020
A Weekend in Marrakech 2011 – last bit. How I ended up on the back of that motorbike
Hammam having been ticked off our list, we wended our way to Djemma El Fna one last time. On our way, a man tried to persuade us into another hammam thus, “Would you like to try a..? oh, you’ve already had one…” That was after he saw our hair..
But we didn’t care. We were relaxed. Hammam relaxed.
One last leisurely lunch in a terraced cafe overlooking the square.
Knowing that no matter how many times you come back to this place, it will never, ever feel like this.
Then a last drinking in of the beauty and the unique feel of the place.
I was absolutely adamant that there was no way I was getting a henna tattoo. No Sir. It would run anyway, because mine always smudged after five minutes so I looked like I’d rubbed a body part in tar by accident. So No Way.
However, spotting two ladies who were tattooing a smiling Moroccan woman, my friends paused. The tattooists were a mother and daughter, and a grandmother. We chatted to the lady who was having the tattoo and her husband, whilst watching the whole mesmerising process. Artful and precise and quick as a flash. Then my friends looked at the patterns. Then they agreed patterns. Then they sat down. I stood, smiling, but aloof. I thought. But they did look nice, these tattoos…and these ladies seemed very nice…and one of my friends had gold bits in hers…but I wasn’t having one. The older lady beckoned me forward to sit down to rest my weary little legs. Which I did. No harm in that. And I did look through the pattern book. But only out of politeness.
Suddenly, my left leg is in the air and I’m having the biggest, longest, most beautifullest, black henna tattoo of all, from my ankle bone to the top of my calf. I must have indicated a pattern in the book – like you see at those auctions – a slight twitch in a certain direction – and WHAM here I am..
I remember talking and everyone laughing. I wasn’t being funny but that happens a lot.
I still say I had the tattoo by accident.
And it cost the most.
So, hammamed and tattooed, we bought some cream cakes to eat on the roof terrace of the riad and continued to wend, stopping only to buy more jewellery, more scarves and possibly another teapot.
One last relax on the stunning roof enhanced by cakes, and we were ready to have our final showers and leave for the airport.
And of course pay the bill.
The taxi driver was very, very early, waiting patiently in the hall, as penance for taking us to the wrong hotel on the first day, probably.
We asked for the bill and got out our credit cards.
To be told that we needed to tell them in advance that this was how we were paying..
But we’d spent all our cash on henna tattoos and cream cakes and possibly a teapot..
And the driver was in the hall, and we had to get to the airport, and some of us weren’t quite dressed …
We’ll have to go to a cashpoint”, I said.
Gorgeous young man with black curly hair, said, “if you go to the cashpoint, I will have to take you on my motorbike.”
Quick as a flash, knowing there was no time to lose, and wanting a ride on a motorbike in Marrakech with the gorgeous young man I said,
“I will go to the cashpoint with you on your motorbike.”
When something like that is up for grabs, you’ve got to move fast.
My friends trustingly got out their credit cards and wrote down their pin numbers. I dropped them all into my secure bag and followed the man outside.
Not once did I question the sanity of this. I felt instinctively safe. I briefly felt instinctively scared when we took our first turn left into the next alley and I stupidly opened my eyes and saw my bare arm centimetres from the wall.
But I held on tighter and carried on..
Now, anyone who has been to Marrakech will have noted how motorbike passengers sit, calm and relaxed, sometimes with their arms supporting them at the back of the motorbike. Not me. Get the picture?
Left, left, right in the derb, through a group of people, and suddenly onto the cobbled street, at which point I wanted to whooooooooooop…maybe I did…
Past the royal palace and the guards out onto the road with actual cars and stuff…….whoooooooooppp…pulled up too soon (in my opinion) to the cashpoint.
There was no -one at the cashpoint when I started. I took out the first credit card and its pin number and got out a large sum of money, which I dropped carelessly into my bag, then the next, then the next..
Then I looked round and a queue had formed, at the front of which was an English person..
It was at this point that I realised that what I was doing may have not looked quite legal and questions could be asked.
Then I ran towards the motorbike, jumped on it, and we sped off….with the breeze in my hair and the traffic speeding around us, and the sun shining on us, I felt ALIVE..my heart beat faster and my smile grew bigger and I just wanted to laugh with something like happiness..
And suddenly, we were back in the darkness of the alleyway, left, left, right…to the door….we got off.
“That was fun, wasn’t it..” he said.
“Yes, yes…yes….” What I wanted to say was, “can we do it again? Can we speed off into the distance and ride around Marrakech without a care in the world. Can I forget everything for a while and just be me?”
“Thank you, it was,” is what I said.
The door opened and the spell was broken.
The bill was paid, sad farewells were said.
The taxi driver walked us to the taxi which was parked near the palace. A guard nodded and smiled at me, kindly I thought…. but that was before my friend noticed that one of my leggings was still rolled up to let my tattoo dry..so I didn’t leave the city with the most sophisticated of looks. But there you are…
Onto the plane, back to Bristol, Bath, and then home..
When I got home, and took my case to my bedroom I glanced at the photo on my wall of Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck on the moped in Roman Holiday and I realised that I’d had a little Roman Holiday of my own in Marrakech..and I’d found a bit of me that I’d forgotten. A bit that I like having around..
And I still glance at that photo and I still smile. My film would be called Bewitched in Marrakech…or how I learned to stop worrying and learned to live in the moment and laugh instead…
And I loved my tattoo so much that I got a real one..
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A Weekend in Marrakech in 2011 – part 5
To Djema El Fna we went, full of tagine and humous and these delicious cheesy things in pastry. To Djema El Fna which is the square of all squares..the place where all the city life gathers and which has myriad different lives; bustling morning, buzzy afternoon, and after dark a place where you feel you are at the centre of the universe. Is there anywhere else? When you are there it doesn’t feel there is…
Temporary night-time restaurants have suddenly appeared, like they have been there always. Although four hours ago they did not exist. It’s like Brigadoon without the mist, and it happens every night, not every 100 years. But apart from that it’s like Brigadoon.
We weave through the narrow tables, with waiters shouting, “Hey Jane Austen. I am Mr Darcy..” and “I love what you are wearing. Is it from Marks and Spencer’s. Or is it from Primark?” I don’t just smile; I smile from the inside right to the outside.
It is pitch black – just the lights from the restaurants and the shops and the minaret of the mosque illuminating all this humanity.
We walk slowly through, pausing at the edge of crowds watching musicians, storytellers, singers, belly dancers – male belly dancers, that is – and street vendors. I will never forget the tiny pink and blue candle-lit lanterns, the buzzy noise, the sheer vibrant life of the place.
Eventually it is time to go, to leave the square to the next manifestation of its day and its night, and we walk slowly through the now quiet little streets to the derb, onto our riad, our haven of tranquillity.
Because this is our last night, and whether we every see the square again, it will never be the same as our first sight of it after dark.
We retire to our rose-strewn beds in our little cocoon, preparing for our last day.
Our last day of a hammam, a buster-Keaton taxi ride, and the motorbike..
***************************************************
Our last few hours in Marrakech were carefully planned. Well, no, they weren’t…we were going to a Hammam and then we were going to amble and then we were going to fly regretfully home to “real life”.
Now as we were experts in Marrakech after two full days, we decided to take a taxi, or two two-people taxis. Ignoring the “are you sure you want to go to THAT taxi rank, do you not want me to order you one” look on the lovely young man’s face at the riad we set purposefully off, left, left, right, onto the main street.
Finding two rather scruffy looking automobiles we proceeded to negotiate fares (lovely young man having forewarned us as to what we actually should pay). I knew I’d been Marrakeche’d when I said no thanks, too much and along with another friend, waved my arms in an expressive shrug and walked away exuding disdain and “you must be joking-ness” ..WALKED OFF..I had no idea where we were actually standing so how I thought we could WALK to wherever we were supposed to be going says a lot about my frame of mind at the time. Oh boy, I thought. I
I am here and I am BARTERING, and IT IS GOOD!! I have arrived! (bit late as I’m going home in 6 hours, but never mind).
Amid raised voices, following us for a bit, getting us to go back with an obviously reluctant and unsaid “we are doing you a favour ladies” much more reasonable price, the four of us got into our two little taxis.
Pulling onto the road, one taxi was in front and one taxi was behind. Moments later we looked up to wave at our friends in the taxi behind which was now next to us, whilst the drivers shouted to each other, with much gesturing, and not a lot of eye contact with the road ahead. This continued for five minutes or so as our expressions changed from surprise, to smiling, to laughing to mild panic. The only soundtrack was the animated and possibly confused – as it turned out – conversation of the drivers.
Our taxi driver stopped the car suddenly and got out to ask a passer-by for directions whilst I sat and thought this hammam better be relaxing after this..because currently I am a bit wound up.
Five minutes later both taxis’ stopped and we sort of arrived at our destination.
Then, in true Moroccan style, an attractive man appeared out of nowhere to guide us to the hammam…no I don’t know how he knew, he just materialised… “ah, tiny lady,” he said to me as I waved my thanks, and in so doing got my own bracelet caught on my own clothes. He kindly paused to help and decided to actually guide me into the building as I couldn’t even negotiate a wave properly.
Once more out of chaos we walked into calm. My abiding memory of the medina…like bursting out of a shaken bottle of champagne into a calm sea..
But then..
Has anyone here been to a hammam…? If you haven’t I think you need to go to find out for yourself. I recommend it, but there is no gain without pain…all I can say is that we had water tipped over us repeatedly, but as it had rose petals in it that somehow made it ok.., were scrubbed from head to toe rather brutally, but as we then had water with rose petals in it thrown over us that somehow made it ok, and boy did I feel clean! Then we sat with our feet in wooden buckets with rose petals in them wondering what was going to happen next. But the rose petals somehow made everything ok.
Then the massage which really made everything ok. And we were ready to face the outside world once again!
We should have had our pictures taken before we walked out onto the street after this. Probably best not, though. As we walked towards the square in search of lunch, I think #overrelaxed is how I’d describe our demeanour..
Which I think is how I’d explain how I ended up having a henna tattoo when I had been adamant that I didn’t want one. And then there was the motorbike ride. Don’t blame it on the sunshine, don’t blame it on the boogie, blame it on the medina..
The post A Weekend in Marrakech in 2011 – part 5 appeared first on Chris Penhall.
