JEMAÂ EL-FNA SQUARE

"La Place was both the end of the universe and the birth of exile, of a paradise fallen and flattened by the footsteps of passers-by and itinerant travelers, where, around the fairy-tale fire, we revisited the phantasmagorical moment of genesis. So, if the Place was a crossroads delimited by the police station, the minaret of the Koutoubia and the former Bank of Morocco converted into a museum [...] the triangular boundaries of this forest of story were, for us, pure fantasy where fantasy and sacrilege mingled." (Rachid Mansoum, la Place Jemaâ El Fna, Marrakech lieux évanescents)

More than just a public square, Jemaâ el-Fna is Marrakech's flagship attraction, and has long since established itself as the initiatory crossroads of the city. Here, day and night, things vibrate and pulse. The square is the liveliest place in town, attracting tourists and locals alike! If you climb up to the rooftops, you'll get an impression of flatness: everything is built like a big, stylish checkerboard, giving you the illusion of being able to walk above the city.

It's from here, too, that most walks start: to the Ben Youssef medersa or the Bahia Palace (take the street just to the left of the Café de France) and the Saadian tombs. You'll find yourself staying here, strolling around or simply passing through, even if it's just to park your car, at the behest of the guards who are always on duty (be careful, never park your car on the square, or it could end up in... the pound!).

The architecture of the square is not particularly original: no singular building apart from the Quessabine mosque, at the entrance to the souk and opposite the old Café de France. This same establishment, with its wide terraces, has not moved one iota, and was hated by Lyautey, whose opinion was that its facade contributed to the distortion of the square. At the other end, towards Avenue Mohammed V, Club Med was discreetly installed in 1972 behind a wall covered in vegetation. Today, it awaits a potential buyer. Opposite, near the tourist police station, are the Post Office buildings and the brand-new museum dedicated to it.

History. Originally, this square served as the Place de Grève, where criminals were beheaded and the heads of rebels and thieves were publicly displayed. From this cruel custom, popularized by the Alaouites and lost in the mists of time, the square takes its current name, which means "the assembly of the dead", or "the meeting of the dead"... A gloomy appellation that no longer justifies anything, whatever the local storytellers may say, who claim that, on certain evenings, the souls of the tortured come back to haunt the place.

You have to learn to appreciate this strange place, where the atmosphere of medieval squares reigns, a theatrical space for meditation and encounters, mystery and entertainment. The best way to get to know Jemaâ el-Fna is to see it as a whole: climb up to one of the many terraces for a refreshing drink. From these cafés, which are always full, you'll discover a teeming world of constant, ever-changing hustle and bustle. It's a fascinating sight when the sun sets behind the minaret of the Koutoubia, and the dry clatter of gnawi instruments can be heard.

Until the inauguration of the new bus station near Bab Doukkala in 1982, the Place Jemaâ el-Fna was the departure point for large cabs and rattling coaches bound for other cities. A sort of vast souk, a purveyor of everything and anything, a veritable wonderland, had set up shop on the square, representing a sort of extension of the well-ordered souks (despite appearances) of the medina. This permanent presence of street vendors certainly energized life in the square, but it also had a considerable detrimental effect on the commercial harmony of the official souks. The flea market was evicted when the new bus station was inaugurated, and no trace of this era can be found on the Place Jemaâ el-Fna. Only hawkers of knick-knacks and loose clothing still stroll around, looking for a good opportunity to sell their wares to tourists who are afraid of the souks: this is becoming increasingly rare, as everyone is able to tell the difference between the (overpriced) products of these hawkers and the better-quality, less expensive wares of the souk's specialized craftsmen.

All that remains of transport are the horse-drawn carriages lined up in single file, waiting for customers. They'll take you at a leisurely trot along the ramparts or to the Menara basin for a romantic stroll.

A masterpiece of humanity's oral and intangible heritage. In the 1990s, the square came under serious threat as there was talk of building an underground parking lot. In 1997, Catalan writer Juan Goytisolo, who had literally fallen in love with Marrakech, sounded the alarm! In order to preserve all the cultural and artistic treasures that characterize the place, he brought UNESCO experts to Marrakech and set up an association for the preservation of Jemaâ el-Fna Square. At once the city's nerve center, a symbol of social mixing and an essential meeting point between the two sides of Marrakech, the square is above all a showcase for the expression of Morocco's intangible heritage through storytelling, music, dance, song, gastronomy and folklore. Its international recognition was proclaimed on May 18, 2001, when UNESCO included its name on the highly selective list of properties classified as Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity.

A permanent spectacle. Like a play, Jemaâ el-Fna Square offers visitors scenes of life divided into three major acts. There's something for all our senses on constant alert: for the ears, with the hum of the crowd (particularly compact on Friday evenings) mingled with tambourines; for the nose, with the scents of leather, earth, spices and fresh mint. And finally, for the skin, with the touch of a djellabah or the brush of henna that will draw oriental motifs on your hand or ankle. In the morning, the square comes alive as soon as the souk doors open, between 7:30 and 9am for some! It's transformed into a huge open-air market. The crowds are still small, but already the wooden booths and trailers of the freshly squeezed orange juice vendors are coming to life. Spice merchants set up their fragrant displays in the shade of straw mats supported by sturdy poles. Fruit and rare herb sellers arrive later, often from the surrounding villages. This is an excellent time to come for an unusual breakfast: early in the morning, you'll often be offered a second cup of tea or a second glass of delicious orange juice (which costs very little), while the roasted peanut and pistachio seller, his stall just unpacked, will hand you a few seeds before starting a conversation. What's more, at this hour of the morning, stalkers of all kinds - who, let's face it, are unfortunately not lacking in the square - are not yet awake. So you can enjoy the early-morning pleasures of this vast esplanade in complete tranquillity.

But the real show doesn't start until later, late in the afternoon (ideally from 5pm). This is when the Gnaoua dancers, descendants of the black slaves of Guinea, appear, and the Amizmiz acrobats perform their human pyramids and spectacular dervish pirouettes, much to the delight of the crowded onlookers. The square then becomes a monumental stage, with each actor taking his place at the center of a circle formed by the spectators, the haqla, blessed by a saint! It's time to watch the public writers, crouching in the shade of their black umbrellas, toil over their work, to wander among the bateleurs, to listen to the storytellers tell you about the djinns (the genies) who hover over the city's minarets, or to evoke the fabulous treasures of the former sultans - treasures hidden in abandoned riads in the medina -, to have your fortune told by veiled fortune-tellers (the more banknotes you have, the brighter your future will be), to try your luck at fortune-telling or other games of skill with convoluted rules, to admire the expert monkey-showers or snake-charmers who go so far as to wrap their charming reptiles around the torsos of passers-by.. In this motley crowd of street performers, who vibrate to the sound of tambourines and flutes, children make their way through offering kesra (breads in the shape of barley, wheat or, more rarely, buckwheat cakes), honey pastries and doughnuts. The guerrab, a multicolored water carrier clad in copper or tin bowls, constantly shakes his bell and poses for tourists' cameras. Offering a few dirhams in exchange is a must.

Finally, as the sun goes down and the hustle and bustle becomes more intense, the smell of fried food, skewered meat, offal and grilled fish takes over the square, where small, gourmet bouis-bouis set up shop: Jemaâ el-Fna is transformed into a huge open-air restaurant. The lamps of the gargotiers and cafés gradually illuminate the square, which is slowly emptied of its players. People sit huddled around a basic wooden table, enjoying a harira or kefta skewer, facing a sheep's head proudly displayed on the stall! Or indulge in a bowl of snails bathed in a secret recipe of healing broth. Jemaâ el-Fna becomes a haven of international conviviality, tranquility and magic, in the quiet of the night.

During Ramadan, however, the square offers a slightly different vision. Its spectacle allows fasters to forget the hunger and thirst that plague their minds (and bellies), until the call of the muezzin rings out: the square empties at breakneck speed, while the nearby gargotes, ladling out harira and kebabs, fill up in the blink of an eye. Then, as hunger subsides, the square fills up again and the show goes on..

Yes, the colors and atmosphere are reminiscent of the Middle Ages, but the square, even though it's no longer a dirt surface, remains as bewitching as ever, with its allure of a crossroads of caravan routes, which is not to our displeasure. Wherever you go in the city, you pass through it, eternal.