Casablanca: We stayed one night in Casablanca, had a bit of a time getting to our hostel, first because of a taxi strike, but mostly because the guidebook that we were planning on using accidentally stayed behind in California.
That night we walked out to see the enormous Hassan II mosque at night, people were still trickling out. It was odd to see such an expensive modern accomplishment dominate a polluted crumbling old city whose average citizen lives a very simple life. On the way back from seeing the mosque we stopped and watched the local kids play a game of soccer in an intersection barely pausing for cars to pass and stopping briefly to watch a fight almost break out. I joined a circle of boys juggling a soccer ball for a few minutes. It was nice to speak the international language of sports. For the most part, the people payed us no mind. A few gave us sideways glances, but most of them just went about their business, neither annoyed or impressed by our presence.
The next morning, after mistakenly using the woman's bathroom repeatedly, we caught a train to Fes. On the train we made our first friend (of many more to come) named Muhammad. He was a young man like us, studying engineering, dressed in traditional Moroccan clothes, very nice, helped us learn some Arabic, and told us that his mission in life with Islam was to "Spread Goodwill."
On the train from Casablanca to Fes, near Rabat.
Fes: We arrived in Fes to rain, encountered the taxi strike again, and trekked through the New City to our hostel where we spent two nights with very hospitable staff. We walked around and got some food, couscous and tagine, explored the New City, took pictures, talked nonsense, goofed around. It was great to be back with these friends. I realized how much I had missed them.
The next morning we hired a guide Abdul to take us around the Medina (read: man who takes you around to all sorts of shops where he gets commission on everything purchased.) We joined up with another threesome, two American guys and an Australian girl who were on vacation from their jobs in London. We spent the day winding our way through the old Medina of Fes, stopping at several shops, leather, silver, carpets, woodwork, woven goods, etc....at the end of the day our guide Abdul took us to a restaurant and pulled me aside to "show me the way out of the city." What he was really doing was separating me to tell me that our threesome was being charged a different rate than the others because we were students and they were not. He asked me not to mention our price to them. Problem was, we had already discussed the price with them throughout the day when Abdul wasn't close-by. I was kinda nervous about being alone with this guy and telling him this, my mind doesn't work quickly in these situations, so I just nodded and said, "Ok."
Fast forward to the end of the meal, I am sitting on a cushion with a bright red face, embarrassed about the argument going on between Abdul who has led us around all day and young American bankers from London. Abdul was asking for ten dollars from each of the three of them to pay for the service of guiding them around a very confusing Medina for eight hours. I feel awful in retrospect that I didn't just pony up and pay the difference.
The streets of Fes
Climbing into the hills above Fes
Looking over the rooftops of Fes
Merzouga:
The next morning we piled into Muhammad's van and hit the road. Muhammad was a private tour operator and had agreed to take us from Fes through the Atlas Mountains to the Sahara desert and down to Marrakesh.
Muhammad turned out to be a great guy. He talked to us a bit about his life, a natural recipe for viagra, women, friends, and happiness. He made us laugh quite a bit and started referring to us as "craaazy guys!"
In Merzouga we climbed on our camels and took a two hour bumpy painful ride through Sahara sand dunes to a tourist oasis. We ate tagine for dinner and watched drunk Italian tourists dance to the drums that the Berber guides were playing. We spent the night in a tent and woke at dawn for a peaceful sunrise.
En route to Ourzazate we stopped at a beautiful gorge and watched rock climbers slowly crawl up a vertical rock face. It was pretty and peaceful and we passed the time chatting and throwing rocks at a little trickling stream.
Later we had to stop again. All of the traffic on the highway was being stopped for some unexplained reason. Good news for me though. Nature was calling, and bad. As I was using a dried up river bed to relieve myself I glanced over my shoulder and saw the peleton of a huge bike race go by. Once they all passed we were allowed back on the road, Ourzazate bound.
Muhammad driving us into Merzouga
Omar, our camel guide. His cell phone went off while he was leading us through the dunes. He answered it. After a five minute conversation he apologized. "Omar is father. Omar has kids."
Shadows on the sands of the Sahara
Flat and still
Soft and silent
Omar playing the part perfectly
Sunset over the dunes
Sunrise over Algeria
Moonset over the dunes
Ourzazate: We stopped in Ourzazate at a hotel, had a couscous dinner and watched part of some terrible awful old American movie on TV. In the morning we explored an old Kasbah and looked at the scenery from on top of old ramparts.
Random Moroccan village
The Kasbah in Ouarzazate
Marrakesh: When we arrived in Marrakesh we didn't have a place to stay and were planning on catching a ride up to the High Atlas mountains to climb the highest peak in Morocco. Muhammad dropped us off by the main square and we laboriously made our way over to the train station. Not only were there no trains but the taxis were still on strike. We scratched our plans to hike into the mountains and instead bought tickets for Essaouira, the most beautiful coastal town in Morocco.
I was feeling awful. While Mitch and Nik went out to explore Marrakesh by night I stayed in bed and tried to sleep off the sick-to-my-stomach feeling that had been with me for the last two days.
The next morning we were on a poorly kept road in a very smelly cramped old bus. We were headed for the coast and the beach and some relaxation and sunshine so the energy was great.
Essaouira: We had two nights camping in Essaouira. We had heard that it was Morocco's best beach city. It was a very sad beach city. The water was the color of chocolate milk, the beach was covered in trash, driftwood, and a wild assortment of other debris. The old medieval port smelled just about as bad as the leather pits in Fes and we got to watch a man throw freshly severed goat heads into the back of an open delivery truck. Good thing we had each other. We made the best of the experience by goofing around, trying to sell the street vendors useless stuff, and taking lots of fun photos (See Nik's photo link at the bottom.)
Nik left from Essaouira on a bus back to Casablanca to catch his flight back to CA. Mitch and I hitched our way out of that sad coastal village in the first RV that stopped for us. We were wanting to go North, perhaps all the way to Tangier, but alas, they were headed for Marrakesh, we just wanted to get out, the energy felt right, and so we went for it.
The view from our tent in Essaouira
Manifesting a good ride
Hitchhiking in an RV in Morocco, Marrakesh bound
Marrakesh: Back in Marrakesh Mitch and I just about had our fill of Morocco. We looked at flights out of Morocco and low and behold there was a relatively cheap flight going back to Paris just the day after next. We quickly booked it and spent the rest of our time in Marrakesh walking around, renting electric bikes to cruise the city, visiting the old Jewish quarter, watching the madness at the main square, playing pool at an old run-down dusty arcade, avoiding street peddlers and little children, and eating a less than satisfying over priced bbq.
The ethnic majority in Morocco. Feline.
A quiet moment above the madness of Marrakesh's main square
Cmon Mitch, she just wanted to taste it, what's the big deal? Just let her have a little...
Ah, no! No taste!
After ten days in Morocco Mitch and I caught a taxi with who else? Another friend named Muhammad who decided to overcharge us. We were very happy to get out of Morocco and back to Paris.
My friend Nik has a great camera and took tons of wonderful photos. Feel free to check them out: http://picasaweb.google.com/
