After a much needed long sleep we awoke to beautiful weather, the sound of morning prayer and birds tweeting. We curled up in pjs on our little couch and were brought a traditional Moroccan breakfast of pancakes, pastries, fruit salad and teas.
We decided to indulge ourselves further for the day and go to one of Marrakech's finest spa, Heritage Spa. We wondered through the pathways of the old city and eventually found it. We entered into a literal haven of peace and tranquility, beautifully decorated and very welcoming it couldn't have been more of a respite from the hectic streets of Marrakech.
We were seated and opted for the Hamman, a traditional Moroccan treatment and were sent into a dressing room and given slippers, cozy dressing gowns and paper knickers.
When ready we were taken into a small steam room with two stone slabs. A young women in her basic English told us to lie down and then preceded to coat us both in the most delicious smelling argon oil. She washed us down and then again covered us in a layer of thick black mud and left us. Joe looked like he had just played a rugby match and god knows what I looked like! I couldn't help but throw a little more mud on him.
She returned and scrubbed every inch of my body working her magic on me and carefully washed my hair, being this clean couldn't be more needed.
Just as she finished polishing me off the next thing I remember was having my legs in the air with two very panicking women throwing freezing cold water over me and frantic 'Ca va's' and 'Kell's'. I had fainted.
After me and Joe had drank buckets of their tea, and chatted away on their big comfy cushions we decided it was time to head back. It came to £55 for the two of us, with tips, so reasonable and so worth it. Even with fainting I can genuinely say it was one of the best days ever.
We popped back to our riad before heading out again for the night. We planned on eating in DJeema El Fna but with Joe's wish to get me home 'healthy and alive' we decided against it and ended up going, a little underdressed, to one of Marrakech's more upmarket restuarant PePe Nero.
I told you a little about DJeema El Fna in my last pot, a huge square, we headed back at night and it had transformed itself, musicians, dancers, story tellers, drum beaters, and a LOT of pestering.
This man had a little zoo, dogs, guinea pigs, hedgehogs, turtles... the Moroccan Dr Dolittle!
After a day full of culture we spent the evening doing what we do best, giggling.