Thursday Market

We love a good flea market, the haphazard hunt, the eclectic array of treasure and junk. Some of our favorite pieces were scavenged from the flea markets of Paris, New York and L.A. So, you can imagine our excitement when we learned about the Thursday flea market at Bab El Khemis, one of the main gates on the north side of the Medina.

We arrive at mid-day, about three hours too late as any practiced flea marketer will tell you. The sun was high and we squeezed our way thru a crush of people and motorbikes. At first glance, the market looked unpromising. Loads of pirated CDs and DVDs, piles of summer shorts, cell phone chargers, used bicycle tires, perfume past its prime . . . As we pushed our way further into the crowd, we noticed side streets splintering off from the main drag, streets lined with stalls cluttered with all manner of things. We skittered to the left just avoiding being struck by a donkey cart loaded with rugs and ducked into the first stall. Sinks, tubs and toilets. Loads of them of all different varieties – though all old – from fancy marble numbers to charming porcelain basins that looked right out of a Paris apartment. Next stall has rugs and pillows fashioned from rugs. There’s a Frenchwoman haggling with the stall owner. She’s got a servant with a wheelbarrow filled with rugs and she wants the shop to throw in a pillow for free. She has a bamboo fan in her hand that she flicks back and forth as she argues. Within minutes the owner acquiesces and she adds the pillow to her stack. Off she trots with her servant and cart scurrying to catch up. This is a woman who clearly knows her way around the Thursday market; I’m half tempted to chase after and offer to carry her fan if she’ll make me her protégé.






Each little side street offers its themed specialty: one is full of stalls with mid-Century furniture; another boasts carved wooden doors; the next ceramic pots of every size and shape. And Bab El Khemis is more than a flea market; in addition to the stalls there are real workrooms. You can watch as craftsman pound, carve, fire and weld an incredible array of things for the home. We even pass a workroom where a small boy is hammering at recycled rebar; behind him a store room is filled with straightened skeletons of steel. You get the feeling that anything could be made here if you have the imagination to design it and the language skills to convey what you want to an able pair of hands.

We don’t make any purchases, but take a few pictures. We covet a Saarenin-like table and six tulip chairs as well as some carved doors and turned-wood window screens that would make chic headboards. “It’s better they [stall owners] see you a few times before you buy,” explains Hamoud when we return empty handed. “That way you get Marrakchi price, not tourist price.” It seems it won’t be too hard for us to find some suitable junk for Dar Noury.