The Hammam Experience

Following on from our morning trek, I decided that today would be an excellent day to experience my first Moroccan hammam. It is something that I would recommend to anyone travelling to a Middle Eastern or Arab country, although (as will appear below) it does take you out of your comfort zone.

Having experienced something similar in Turkey on a previous trip, I kind of knew what to expect. It goes without saying that women and men must use the hammam at different times, so I left Tova behind at the hotel. Plastic mat, towel, loufah and soap in hand, I then made my way to Chefchaouen's old hammam, located just off the ingeniously named Plaza Uta el-Hammam.

This is what happened once I got there (and this is mostly for those who have never experienced anything like this):

1. I paid something like $8 for the full treatment to the wizened old man (foreigners pay more, as they require extra attention, not usually having a clue about what is going on).

2. I was then allocated a box into which I deposited my valuables and clothes (except underwear, which is left on).

3. A much younger attendant then led me through to a concrete and stone room, which was full of steamy hot air (not unlike a sauna). Upon arrival, I was instructed to sit on my mat and sweat for a while.

4. After a while, the attendant came over, took my loufah and proceeded to scrub my body (on both sides) with a lot more force than I had anticipated. Once all of the skin from my body had been removed, I was rinsed with hot water and left to contemplate the loss of my body's largest organ.

5. A few minutes later, the attendant came back and massaged me. Now, when I say "massaged", you must understand that I am using that word in a rather loose sense. It may be more correct to say that my body was forcibly contorted into positions I previously had not thought possible. At about the time that my leg was being bent so that it touched the middle of my back, I reflected on the fact that Turkish hammams were somewhat different to their Moroccan cousins, or alternatively I'd blocked my previous memory out as a traumatic experience. In retrospect, I seem to recall having a rather vigorous massage in Turkey too, so it must have been the latter.

6. After the massage, I was again scrubbed down (this time with soap and shampoo), and rinsed again.

7. By this stage, I was feeling pretty clean and as it was almost time for the womens' turn, it was out of the steam room and into another, where a bucket of freezing water was poured on top of me.

8. Then I made my way back to my box, got changed, gave the attendants a tip (it is customary to tip for anything and everything in Morocco) and went to collect Tova so she could try it out for herself!

Although the scrubbing and massage may sound rather painful, and it is (a little), the whole experience leaves you feeling strangely good, refreshed and as clean as can be.