And the Bands Move On….

Leaving Essaouira was hard, and the suckiness of the actual journey only reinforced for me the idea that maybe I should have stayed longer.  The day started out so well….

When Ana and I got up on our last day in Essaouira, we were just in time to go meet Said to pick up Ana’s gymbree, which he had promised to finish during the night.  Since we’d only come in two or three hours earlier, we were both a bit tired, but pretty excited to see the finished instrument.  Mohammed, one of the musician’s we’d met from Essaouira had made plans to go with us (I think he knew Said from before), so he met us and we went to Said’s shop.  He was waiting and had the instrument ready.

It was beautiful and still played so nicely – the sound was lovely.  Said played for us and then gave Ana some pointers and a mini-lesson.  There was a little jam session again as he showed her some more techniques, Mohammed pulled one of the drums off of the wall.  Even I got to try out the brand new gimbri.  It was made of mahogany and camel skin with goat gut strings.  What a cool experience!

We came back to the hotel with Mohammed for breakfast on the terrace, where we could see out over the ramparts and to the ocean.  It was stark and austere and ancient, yet fresh and bustling with people and birds and waves and music and life.  The city was really cleared out after the festival, but still in the post-festival clean-up phase.  It had the feeling of a Sunday morning on a college campus, after a night of hard partying.  Everything moved a little slowly, trying to get going again, still clearing its eyes from the week of festivities.  Still, though, you could hear drummers and other musicians playing spontaneously in the square.

After breakfast, it was time for Anna to get her gear and head out towards the bus station.  The hotel let me leave my bags until later in the afternoon when my bus would be leaving.  We walked through the medina one last time, stopping at a couple of shops before Anna left for the bus.  It really sucked to say goodbye, but we’re toying with the idea of meeting up again sometime this summer to travel together some more.  We had such a good time!

After our parting, I chilled a bit some more in Essaouira, got some coffee and ran into some more people I knew.  We hung out for a while before I had to leave to get my things and catch my bus, which I did.   I’d gotten some advice from our friend Issam about some things to see traveling down along the coast of Morocco and then coming back up through the desert and back to Marrakech.   He suggested some interesting things and I was in the mood to meander a bit through the country.  I’ve really been enjoying my time here in Morocco.  So I was planning to take a bus from Essaouira through Agadir to Tiznit where I had booked a hotel.  I had the bus ticket and was on the bus.  Things should have been pretty good from there.

The person sitting next to me on the drive, a two by two coach-style bus, was a young man who introduced himself as Ahmed.  He worked in Essaouira for the government but was originally from the Sahara.  He was going home for holidays to visit his family.  He was a nice guy and we had some decent conversation, talking some about music as well.  We listened to some music together on some headphones (perhaps my first mistake! That, or talking to him at all!) and I slept some on the drive to Agadir.

However, when the bus got to Agadir, there was a bit of a layover.  During this time, some guy got agitated about something.  I think it may have been an argument over a seat number, like the last time I was on the bus.  I’m not sure.  Regardless, soon enough, a couple of people were yelling back and forth in a full-on shouting match.  Ahmed and I weren’t too near the fight, so we exchanged amused looks and a comment or two.  The guy was removed from the bus and the argument continued outside.  After a while, I saw that police had arrived!  After more time, the guy got back on the bus and gave everyone a lecture!  I’m not entirely sure what it was about, as was in Arabic.  Many of the passengers found it amusing.  I did, too.  He was very indignant about something.  Finally, he calmed down enough to sit down and grumble at everyone from his seat.

All in all, the bus did not leave from Agadir until at least two hours later than scheduled, maybe three.  Ahmed and I had been talking off and on during the bus ride.  He told me that he comes from a village in the Sahara and was going back to visit his family.  He told me about how his mother keeps trying to convince him to get married.  We had agreed that we were both thrilled to be single.  Then, after the second part of the bus ride was on its way, Ahmed decided he wanted to hold my hand!  I didn’t really realize what was going on at first, because I had been napping and was still half-way asleep.  Once I woke up again, and realized we were holding hands, I thought that maybe since we were almost there, I could get out of it soon enough and faked sleep for a little bit longer.

I had no such luck, however.  We were nowhere near our destination, as it turned out.  The bus continued for some time before finally stopping.  By this point, I could no longer pretend sleep and had pulled back my hand, only to have this near-stranger tell me that he had fallen in love with me.  I told him that he was being ridiculous and that there was no possible way:  he doesn’t even know me!  He told me it was love at first sight.  (Ballocks!)

When the bus finally stopped, I was thrilled, thinking we were finally in Tiznit.  I gathered my things, ready to descend from the bus.  I then realized we were at another rest stop – Ahmed said it was the next stop (which is what he had been saying, and why I thought we were there already).  So I was stuck for another twenty or thirty  minutes with this guy, trying to convince me to come visit him (and his pushy mother) in the desert where he lived, since he was in love with me and didn’t want to part, now that he’d met me.

I told him that I was going to Tiznit, not his home, and that I would not be joining him in the future.  When the bus finally started, I was super-glad.  You can imagine my shock and anger when, less than fifteen minutes later, we stopped again and Ahmed said, “Okay.  This is Tiznit.”

“Are you kidding me?  I could’ve taken a taxi from the rest stop and been to my hotel by this time!  Why didn’t you tell me?” I exploded.  His response was that he had just wanted to spend a little more time with me.  I grabbed my things and got off the bus, livid.  He followed, protesting his love until I had my baggage and the bus was ready to leave.  I said a curt goodbye and basically pushed him back onto the bus, looking around for a taxi cab to take me to my hotel.  Unfortunately, due to all the drama in Agadir (and the wait at the rest stop!), it was well after one or two a.m.

Also, during the extra half hour spent at the rest stop, my phone had died.  When I told the taxi driver where I needed to go (and he was the only taxi in sight), he didn’t know the hotel.  Neither did the other guy who was in the taxi with him.  They drove around the town for a while, discussing it, while I tried to figure out another way to find or remember the address.  I knew it was just inside the Kasbah, so I told him it was in the Kasbah, and he took me to some random hotel inside town.  Telling him I already had a different hotel, I again told him the name of the hotel, cursing myself for not writing down the address before my phone had died, or at least the number!  I’m sure my horrible pronunciation of Riad Le Lieu didn’t help.  My computer was also dead, and I didn’t have a screenshot or wi-fi anyway, but I had noticed a couple of all-night internet cafe places as we had been driving around.  (During this part of the drive we had picked up and dropped off another guy as well – might as well keep business going.)  Clearly, however, the taxi driver and his friend in the front seat were relatively committed to helping me find my way to my hotel, which I appreciated.  I again assured them I already had a reservation for tonight and suggested stopping at an internet café so I could get power to my laptop.

They stopped at a likely looking place and I went in.  The guy there let me plug in my laptop and I got it turned on.  I pulled up the screenshot with the map and address from my confirmation.  The driver looked at it and seemed to know where to go then.  Relieved, I thanked the guy at the internet café.  He was very kind, and didn’t even let me give him any money for the use of his electricity.

Then we were off again, careening through the streets of Tiznit.  When we arrived at the hotel, the taxi driver helped me with my bags to the door, and we knocked, but there was no answer (little surprise, really, as it was now after 2am).  However, we kept knocking and rang a couple times more, but still had no luck.  Then, a random woman came around the corner and asked what we needed.  He told her I was supposed to be staying there and she went around the building and started yelling up at someone inside.  After a couple of minutes, the door opened.  (Thanks, lady!)  Grateful, I went into the hotel and a nice lady named Ayesha checked me in amid my apologies for arriving so ridiculously late.

I was so exceedingly glad that the day was over.  I think I was the only person at the hotel, and although Ayesha had tried to wait up for my arrival, the delays were too long and she finally fell asleep.  I’m just glad she woke up enough to let me in at all!  I was so thrilled to have a shower and gratefully, happily climbed into bed, my crazy adventure over for another day.