I have many things to say about the trip to Morocco, some good, some bad, some ugly but overall the experience was incredible. It was definitely something that I will remember forever and it has left me with an irking feeling of wanting to go back to try and understand what they’re all about over there but in the mean time, I will appreciate the standards of food safety and customer service that exist here in Spain. This is a sample itinerary of what we did and saw. I will try and keep the comments to a minimum as I am still at the early stage of African culture shock where I complain, compare and beat my head against the wall in frustration and fear of never being able to “get it”. Here we go:
Day one: We met at 5am at the Torre de Oro here in Sevilla. We were up early, we were pumped, we were on the bus and then we were back asleep… We rode to Tarifa (2.5 hrs.), while the sun was coming up and boarded the ferry to Tangier. Once in Tangier we drove around on a brief tour and made our way (3.5 hrs.) to the ancient city of Volubilis. The ruins are pretty incredible, you can imagine the house of the old emperor and the mosaics are reasonable intact considering that they date back to 5th or 6th C. AD (my dates may be wrong, here). We continued on, with a brief but tasty (cookie filled treat) to Meknes. I would have loved more time here but our schedule was tight. We ended up at the hotel for the night, ate Tajine (the tuber/meat stew that we would soon get very sick of).
Day two: Back on the bus (approx. 4 hrs) to Ifrane, the Switzerland of Morocco. This small, touristy town is full of Swiss looking houses and official government residences. It is in the Medio Atlas Mountains and was quite chilly. The photo of me with the stone Lion was taken here. We continued on to Risani, out in the desert where we were to meet the jeeps that would take us out to the desert. Of course they were “late” and so we were escorted to the Burbur carpet manufacturing meca and given a “cultural presentation” that turned into a sales pitch for rugs. The Burbur men in blue outfits are infamous in the guide books and are said to be worse than any thieves and bandits. With that said, I obviously left with a rug. The salesman was very aggressive and if I hadn’t have been so mad and flustered in my French negotiation schemes, he probably could have made me cry. They did offer us good tea and Morocco pizza (calzone-esque) and finally we got in the jeeps and headed to the desert. We had a nice dinner, more Tajine, and Moroccan entertainment. We slept in carpet huts, multipurpose though they are, and waited for 4am.
Day three: 4am we were rousted from our beds and moved out to where the camels were sleeping. They too appeared grumpy to be up so early. We rode them for a half hour or so into the Sahara and watched the sunrise. It was magnificent, surprisingly chilly, but well worth the trip. Some trips only get a two minute parking lot tour with the camel which seems drastically inhumane so we were quite lucky. Of course, the entire time the guides/carpet/fossil dealers tried to sell us stuff on the basis of providing for their families and minimal tourist during the hot summer months. I laughed to myself when one of the camels peed on the guy. I know, it is a tough life out there but enough already. I’ve failed to mention that the other group had 5 people try to sneak across the Ferry by holding on under their bus to get to Spain. Unfortunately for them the our bus wasn’t going across, there was another waiting at the other end, and they all had to crawl out, covered in soot and find another unsuspecting vehicle. Of course, some people (I won’t name origins) tried to take photos and make a spectacle of it. We headed back from inland Morocco to Fez. We got there late and many had the shits. Thankfully, I did not.
Day four: A local tour guide took us to the main Mosque, though we weren’t allowed in and then guided us through the gong show that is the Medina. It was here where I was the most overwhelmed with smells, sights, tastes and people hawking their wares. The meat hangs, I guess Muslim tradition means that all the blood has to be drained out before it can be eaten so the cats (of which there are millions) wait underneath to drink the blood and get their protein. We went to several textile operations and one leather factory where we watched from a nice, relatively clean distance, while the men soaked the hides in coloured vats of dye in the afternoon sun. Yellow hides and satellite dishes mark the horizon inside the Medina. It’s something else. I’ve also forgotten to mention that inside the Walled-in downtown section there are no cars allowed so donkeys come zooming past and people yell “Balac!!” which means get the hell out of the way, and they mean it! Getting a taxi once you leave the Medina is almost impossible and all the children are more than happy to help you find one, but only for a price. Our guides were afraid to leave us in the Medina for the afternoon because they thought we would be sold drugs (which by the way, the most offers came from right outside the hotel) so they directed us to the newer part of the city. BIG MISTAKE. We did not want McDonalds. We returned to the Medina and battled it out on our own. It was worth it and I was able to get us around with my passable French. Our hotel was pretty posh and we ate well there. We went to a Moroccan ‘Show’ that night of music and belly dancing, and all and all we had a good time.
Day five: We got up early and headed to Chauen. This city is exquisite and I wish we’d had more time there. If I go back, it would be there and to Marrakesh (which we did not have a chance to this trip). Chauen is Spanish speaking, unlike the rest of the cities we had seen and I felt a little more at home. The city is painted Flinstone blue (as I’ve named it) to keep the heat and the mosquitos out. Our guide was a strange old man with one shred of a tooth left and claimed in his very high old voice that he was in the Lonely Planet video for the region. I have yet to verify this. Once again we were sold carpets and traditional burka type outfits, but this time we were much more ruthless. We ate, at a very very slow and shitty restaurant and were put back on the bus. We weren’t all that thrilled because Chauen had the best, relatively laid back shopping so far. However, our fate was back on the bus, where we would be all the way back to Tangier, ferry, Tarifa, Sevilla. We arrived back at 11pm and I headed home, this time on the city bus, back to my warm bed (which I’ve now put the down feather duvet on because 23 degrees to sleep is far far too cold).
That, my friends, is the recap. My thoughts on Morocco are yet to be determined. The culture shock was indeed aggressive, to say the least. The sights were breathtaking but I felt clearly out of place. My western viewpoint on women’s rights and cleanliness standards do not jive with the Moroccan way of life, but perhaps they don’t have to. Perhaps if we remove the value judgements and just take it in, we get the most enrichment out of it, but I will not buy another rug and I will not eat any more Tajine… for a while.
It's been a little while since I last posted and I'm trying to get you all caught up on my whereabouts these past few weeks. It's been a whirlwind for sure and though a few moments of homesickness have risen their ugly heads, they have been swept away quite quickly.
Day Three: Left Malaga and headed for Ronda. We didn't have much time in Ronda but Chris gave us the tour (since he's spent the most time there). Ronda is a quaint little mountain town with an incredible bridge and one of the oldest bullrings in Spain. During the drive to and out of Ronda, we saw many of Spain's landmark "Pueblo Blancos" or White Towns. These white towns are tucked away in the mountains, and all the buildings are painted white to keep the heat out, I'm sure in the same grain as in Greece. Anyways, the views again were gorgeous and the variety of landscapes available to us here in Spain is quite amazing. This evening Jenna left via bus back to Sevilla to be in school Monday morning and we headed off down the coast to Estepona.
