Morocco!!!
My trip to Morocco started with me tearing through the Madrid Barajas airport for what seemed like hours trying to get to the gate. Yes I was late (due to some bad metro route planning by Davia and myself) and I arrived huffing and puffing to find that there had been some delay and nobody had boarded yet. Prayers answered. It also started on a somewhat low note, as traveling solo was not the original plan. Davia had had some visa timing issues and so here I was alone.
Anyway the flight was uneventful (if somewhat noisy) and soon I touched down in Marrakech! Since I had nothing else apart from my backpack, I was out of the airport in no time. One of the best decisions I made during this trip was to arrange an airport pick-up with the hotel I was staying at. When I finally got there, I knew there was NO way I would have found it at night, on my own. The Riad I stayed at was pretty nice considering the price. The room was spacious; I had my own bathroom, lots of extra blankets provided etc.
The only hiccup I had at this place was that the manager for the night told me he couldn’t operate the card machine (not sure if it was down or if he really couldn’t) and so I had to pay my balance in cash. I really didn’t want to hear that. I had just arrived, at night-time in a city that I knew absolutely nothing about and I hadn’t got the chance to get any local cash out yet. So the next half-hour saw me out and about in pursuit of an ATM. When I got to the ATM that he directed me to, OF COURSE it wasn’t working, so I had to work my way around to a more lively commercial area. If I knew what I know now, I would have struck off in the opposite direction to that which I went in, but it turned out fine anyway. Unbeknown to me, the main square would have still been quite active at that time, but I didn’t know and so I thought it best to get back to the hotel as quickly as possible and get some rest. How I managed to remember the twists and turns to find the place, I don’t know.
The next morning, they were pretty decent about breakfast. I had figured I would just have to miss out since I would have left before the regular time, but they actually made arrangements for me to have some before I set out. So I struck off on foot to the main square of the medina named Djemaa-el-fna. It was relatively close by and I managed to ask for directions (in French!!) to the meeting point. There I met one of the tour co-ordinators and together we waited for the rest of the tour group and soon we were off!
Driving through the Atlas Mountains was simply amazing. I really can’t do them justice. Unfortunately my photos aren’t able to do them much justice either as my camera sucks at taking moving pics. (I need to rectify that).Soon after we crossed the mountains we arrived at our first major sight-seeing spot- The Kasbahs of Ait-Ben-Haddou.
It’s a pretty famous spot and is one of the main attractions around the Ouarzazate area. The site is actually a UNESCO world heritage site and is essentially a 13th century fortress. Our guide told us that only 10 families still live there, due in part I suppose to the lack of electricity, running water etc. Not to mention the hordes of tourists tramping through on a daily basis. I would imagine that could make things a bit awkward. We were told that several movies (such as Gladiator, Price of Persia, Lawrence of Arabia among others), had scenes shot by or adjacent to the Kasbahs. The guide even showed me the spot where they constructed the small arena for Gladiator.
For lunch we had traditional Moroccan fare and I had tagine kefta. Tagine “is a Berber dish from North Africa that is named after the special earthenware pot in which it is cooked”. My kefta was a meatball kinda thing and don’t ask me what meat it was because I’m honestly not sure. I think it was lamb though.
During lunch I was able to properly meet the other people on the tour. There were eight of us in total. There were three Mexicans, who are all studying in Europe; two in Barcelona, one in Paris and then four American girls who are Peace Corps volunteers stationed in The Gambia. We were then off through more amazing landscape in the Draa Valley until our destination of Zagora. When I saw Zagora in the distance, it looked like it had some dark haze sitting right on it. That my friends, turned out to be sand. I think when we got there was a mini-wind storm going on; so sand everywhere!!
Religious considerations aside, if you live in or near the desert, you’re gonna WANT to be wrapped up in all that cloth. Trust me that sand is no joke, and when the wind whips it up, you feel SO glad to be properly covered up. That said, I did not hesitate to buy a turban; I think it was well worth it. The vendor even tied it for me so I could rock a somewhat authentic desert look!
Interestingly enough (of course the whole Jamaican thing came up) one of the guys there told me that they had once been visited by Rita and Ziggy Marley (Bob’s wife and one of their sons) and that they camped for 2 nights in the desert with their company. Funny the little tidbits you can pick up. Then it was time to meet our camels!!!!!!
I was at the front of one of the “processions” (the camels were in two lines and tied together) and for some reason I seemed to be on the biggest one. I was all turbaned up at this point and the guide even asked me before we set off if I spoke Arabic. Talk about blending in! I would just like to add that this camel riding thing is NOT as easy as it seems…
Made it to camp and the American girls invited me to bunk with them. By the time we got to the camp it was practically nightfall, so there wasn’t much to see. After sorting out sleeping arrangements, we went to the main tent where we were served tea- Green tea in glasses, good stuff. A little later we were served dinner which was soup, followed by bread with chicken tagine with vegetables and more tea.
It was interesting to observe the differences among the Berber guides with regard to clothing, the way they wrapped their turbans etc etc. One of the guides looked like a mysterious villain-eventually-turned-hero straight out of a bad romance novel. Seriously! His face was all wrapped up in a black turban so that ONLY his eyes were visible for the entire time, and they were pretty intense. During a moment when we weren’t really doing anything, I let my imagination run wild a little and made up a story about him; western female damsel in distress, kidnapping etc ect; in essence, all the elements required for a cheesy Mills & Boon plot! Anyway back to reality. After dinner and a bit of chit chat, the Berber guys started some traditional drumming and singing, and then eventually some dancing.
I’m not sure if the ones dancing would be regarded as pros back in their villages. It was fun anyway, because they were really enjoying themselves. Then after about a full hour of all of this, they were trying to encourage us to participate. Of course I ended up drumming, and I didn’t do badly at all if I may say so myself. Unfortunately I can’t say quite the same for the German girl beside me. She tried though. When we were all drummed out, we headed off to our tents for the night.
One of the features in the description of the tour online was “Those that wish to can sleep directly under the stars…The stars in the desert are a great opportunity to see as there are no artificial lights around and you can fully appreciate the glory of the skies above. ” I was really looking forward to that part, but it soon became clear that there would be no star-gazing for me that night. Firstly, it was overcast, so no stars. Secondly it was very, very windy that night. I don’t know if that’s how it is every night, but I surely wasn’t tempted when our guide suggested it. the wind was really fierce; I remember waking up at one point during the night feeling sure the tent was about to collapse upon us.
One of the features in the description of the tour online was “Those that wish to can sleep directly under the stars…The stars in the desert are a great opportunity to see as there are no artificial lights around and you can fully appreciate the glory of the skies above. ” I was really looking forward to that part, but it soon became clear that there would be no star-gazing for me that night. Firstly, it was overcast, so no stars. Secondly it was very, very windy that night. I don’t know if that’s how it is every night, but I surely wasn’t tempted when our guide suggested it. the wind was really fierce; I remember waking up at one point during the night feeling sure the tent was about to collapse upon us.
No such disaster struck however and before we knew it, it was morning. We went out and explore a bit over the dunes and whatnot before it was time for breakfast. I was in the Sahara Desert people!!! How cool is that? 🙂
We then decided to go and take some pictures with the camels when lo and behold, in the middle of my taking a snap for the American girls, it started to RAIN. Say what? Rain? On the one day that I’m in the desert? No way right? But…. I have the rainbow captured to prove it!!!
I can’t really say that I expected that at all. It was only a short shower however, and when it was over it was time to set off on our camels again. I must say the rain certainly did not improve the camels. I can easily see why nobody has ever come up with a “wet camel” scent. So off we were again to a rendezvous point with our driver.
We then headed towards Ouarzazate and stopped at a small museum/antiquities store. The short tour we had here was pretty interesting. We were given some insight into the uses of various authentic Berber/Tuareg items and then we were shown to the carpet room. We were given tea, of course, and then our guide began to explain to us about how you could identify which tribe a carpet was from, the various methods used, the symbolism ect. Some of them were amazingly beautiful (and of course they were for sale). Being true sales men, one of the attendants noticed me eyeballing a beautiful Tuareg, hand-woven silk carpet. I was soooooooooo tempted to buy it, and I guess they could sense that. We back-and-forthed over it for a while but good sense prevailed eventually. How was I even going to get that back to Madrid, then Bilbao and then eventually home anyway? It was probably going to be more trouble than I wanted in any event. Plus, I would have wanted my mother’s opinion before splurging, which of course I couldn’t have at that moment. After all it was supposed to be for her living room. He promised me that I was getting an amazing deal, which I honestly think I was, but oh well. In the end, I bought an ornate silver/copper/bronze Berber traditional knife from them; a far more sensible purchase given the circumstances. After I bought it I wondered for a second what my parents might think. It occurred to me that on my trip to Santo Domingo about a year before, I bought a machete (complete with a decorated scabbard) as a souvenir. Was there some kind of trend developing here? Come to think of it, I’ve always wanted a Samurai sword……
Anyway, after that we stopped in Ouarzazate and had the opportunity to tour a bit and have lunch. Ok. Look at this picture that I took there.
Notice the weather. Well, an hour and a half later into the mountains THIS was now the view!
Amazing huh? From desert, to snow-capped peaks? Awesome.
The ride through the mountains that day was very enjoyable. It almost seemed like we had taken another route. What with the snowfall overnight in the highest parts, and then the rain lower down, it was a totally different experience. The rain really highlighted how green and lush some areas were, brought back some life to a few rivers, and energized a couple waterfalls. I had to remind myself a few times that just moments before I was in the desert.
By the end of the day we were back in Marrakech and I didn’t really have a plan. The American girls suggested that I hang out with them and so we went hostel searching. Eventually we found one that had been suggested to them by some other Peace Corps volunteers. It was a pretty decent place, especially considering the price. It cost me about 5 euros for the night. Quite a steal. After sorting that out, we headed back out into the streets for a bit.
Did I mention how awesome it can be sometimes being a Jamaican? When we were walking the streets that night, I decided to buy a decorative ceramic bowl for mommy. The owner of the shop says to me after hearing me speaking with my friends “hey you kind of sound Jamaican”. Interesting conversation followed. Turns out he has actually been to Jamaica before on vacation- to Ocho Rios and Montego-Bay to be exact, where he enjoyed himself thoroughly. In the end all this banter resulted in me getting a discount on my purchase, I didn’t have to haggle at all. Yesss!! Later that same evening, I benefitted yet again. The guys from the shops usually try to say something to get your attention as you walk by. This guy was asking me if I was English, French, whatever, using a different language each time…… and I was like “no, Jamaican actually”. His reaction was so funny; he immediately took my hand and said “really? Well then I have a gift for you!” I fully expected this “gift” to come with some monetary strings attached, but I was mistaken. He gave me what looked like a little clay sculpture, but then he explained to me that it was actually traditional Berber lipstick. Really cool. All I had to do in return was take his card. How nice.
The next day was the day for the famous souks of Marrakech. What is a souk? – A really, really huge market where you can find just about anything. Before we ventured in, I had a strange encounter with an ATM which heralded the beginning of some troubles that were yet to come. For some strange reason, the ATM wouldn’t allow me to take more than X amount of money. I was quite confused because based on my calculations; there was no way that I could have been that low on cash, but this ATM was telling me otherwise. A bit confused, I decided to stash my train ticket money and then think about it later. Plus I had a credit card on me so that should save me if things got dire right? More on that later. It was rather interesting, walking around. You couldn’t even look at somebody’s merchandise for a second without someone pouncing on you to try to make a sale. Just like in any other market of this sort I suppose.
Clothes, shoes, ceramics, leather products-shoes, bags and belts, souvenirs, oils and spices, Moroccan lamps! Wanted a lamp, but yet again, how the heck would I get it home? There were some things that I had on my definite to- get list and sticking to this list became even more important after my spending power was apparently curtailed by the ATM incident.
You have to take reviews, especially from people living in first world countries, with a grain of salt sometimes. Based on the things I saw on the net, I expected to be hassled beyond belief being a female and worse, traveling solo. But wait, you might say, with your complexion, maybe you blended in; you’re not exactly blonde and Caucasian. However, for quite a bit of my time there, I was travelling with some blonde Caucasian people and to be honest they didn’t get hassled more than you would expect.
We spent the greater part of the day there and then we went outside the medina to the newer part of Marrakech to have lunch at a somewhat swanky restaurant. The American girls were looking forward to this in particular; apparently nice restaurants are not easy to come by where the live in The Gambia. Back at the hostel, I began to pack my things. The plan was to take the night train to Tangier, and then take ferry back to Spain and make my way back to Madrid from there. Now there’s a story, but I’ll soon come to that. We then went into the square and went to a spot that had a “panoramic” view and watched the sunset and the activity in the square. Like the snake charmers. Did I mention before that there were snake charmers?
The American girls had a craving for KFC (don’t judge them lol, they can’t get that kind of fast food in the Gambia) and I headed there with them as it was on my way anyway.
Now the girls had mentioned to me that it had cost them X amount to get from the train station to the main square, so I had that budgeted out. Unfortunately we didn’t take into account the surcharge for night-time trips. So make that X times 2. I eventually got into a taxi, not knowing HOW I was going to pay the driver without dipping into my train ticket money. A little risky, but it was either that or risk missing the train. While in the taxi I fumbled about in my bag looking for stray coins that are always around. None were forthcoming. So I was planning an act for the taxi driver that involved tears and real distress to explain why I couldn’t pay the full amount when a lightbulb went off and I remembered that I had some stray $US hanging around in my purse. Bingo! So I paid half my fare with that and skipped off to the train station. Now you may ask why at this point I didn’t go to the ATM again? Well I would probably say fear. I was afraid that what had happened earlier was not a fluke, that I had made some grave miscalculation and that I was truly and completely broke, in the middle of the night, in a foreign country, with my journey back not even half-way completed. I honestly did not want to find out at that particular moment. I would cross that bridge later.
So I bought my ticket and I was off to Tangier. It was an 11 hour train ride, but of course I slept for most of that which is the beauty of the night train. So now I’m in Tangier and need to get to the port to get my ferry to Algeciras. Need to get a taxi, need cash. I hold my breath and go to the ATM, where this time, it only allows me to withdraw a pittance. I can hear my father I my head at this point berating me over my seemingly poor financial planning. Ok. One step at a time Ren, one step at a time. Eventually I get to the port and think, I have no cash but surely I can buy my ferry ticket with a credit card. Credit card machine system is down…bring on the tearing out of hair and nervous breakdown. The next ferry is leaving in about 10 minutes and I need to get a ticket. In desperation I head to the ATM again…fail- tells me something about not being able to verify my details. What? Again in desperation, I try the machine beside it; strangely enough it allows me to withdraw enough to buy a ticket!
Finally on the ferry. Turns out then 10 minute departure didn’t happen and I was on that thing for more than an hour before we finally got moving. I must say that at this point, I was not the happiest camper, especially when I realized that with the ferry delay I was in all likelihood going to miss the bus I had planned on taking back to Madrid. Anyway, what could I do about it? I was thankful to even be on the ferry in the first place. I eventually went out on deck for a bit after having a strange conversation with a creepy Moroccan man. I realized that we were sailing past Gibraltar and managed to get some pics in!
When we finally get off the boat and through immigration (hassle all around) I can see that the weather is quite bad. I try to find my way around to the office to buy my bus ticket to Madrid. The bus company that I usually take to get around did not service this route and so I had to go with another one, the only one in fact. The first company I mentioned takes credit cards, so I had no fear on that front….but OF COURSE this company didn’t. Really? Really? In the “1st World” and at an international port at that? So off to try my luck at the ATM again. Back in Spain, the ATM worked FINE. I was not broke; I had MORE than enough money in my account, as I originally thought. I don’t know what the heck was going on in Morocco!!!!!!!
As I suspected I had missed the bus that I was aiming for and so had to wait for the next one in another 6 hours or so. *Sigh*. Got some well needed food and then made my way out in the rain to find some internet access. Found a seedy little place and blew about two hours in there which included trying to ward off this guy from Cameroon who wanted to treat me to a coffee and a meal, and who couldn’t take a hint. Hey, he could have been perfectly well-intentioned, but it was not a risk I was willing to take as a solo female traveller. Nope, not, happening; and to be perfectly honest, he was a little annoying.
Finally. Departure time came and I was finally off on an eight hour or so journey to Madrid. Got in at about five-something the next morning and luckily the train line I need to get to our base in Madrid ran by this station. So I made my way there in a semi-zombie state, managed to give Davia some semi-lucid details about the trip and then I was off to la-la-land for some much appreciated rest.
Full update on the Madrid part of the trip coming soon!
Full update on the Madrid part of the trip coming soon!
So intresting! It`s my biggest dream to visit Morroco! =)
I think we need to contact Hollywood and arrange for the screen play and movie rights,,,$$$$
UR mom is right ren, u need dah cash to pay off all dem spending, lol. Glad u r having great adventure in europe and africa
Renee, i'm making a desired effort not to write a whole lot in response to ur blog. It was lengthy and I read it; so kudos to you. This is the 1st blog i've EVER read; so kudos to you. You do have the talent for spinning a tale; might b a little "Rowling" in you 🙂
Wow Ren!! Ure certainly having fun. lol @ ure ATM episodes. i am happy you stayed calm and got thru it ok. Looking forward to ure other updates
Awesome read, Ren! Keep em coming!
Great stuff. For the record, I DO NOT believe the whole ATM story. That's just so I don't expect a ceramic bowl or other cute gift. I see right through you!
really enjoyed the details Renee…every minute of it. Looking forward to more updates…the way you lay on the details its as if I'm there as well!!
Really enjoyed taking this extremely descriptive trip with you Ren 🙂 I had an awesome 20-25 mins in my wild imagination 😀 Hope to hear more soon! Continue to have loads of fun for us all.
You are officially my coolest friend.. For now :p super proud f u this was a greaT read . Really had me wanting to see what came next lol