I arrived in Morocco on May 31st, 2014.  I planned to travel around the country a bit before attending the Gnawa Music Festival in Essaouira June 11-15th.  I ended up staying in the country 5 weeks!  These are my posts from my time in Morocco.

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 Morocco – Port of Entry: Casablanca

Jun 2, 2014 @ 23:06

So I arrived safely in Casablanca, Morocco.  I had scheduled a couchsurfing stay with a guy named Anas who goes to university in Casa.    He told me that I should take a train from the airport to a station nearer to his apartment.  I managed to do that without too much difficulty, and even exchanged money and got a SIM card before I left the airport.  Way to go, me!  Although, I told Anas what time my plane arrived, I don’t think he quite understood that I still had to go through customs and find my way to the train station etc before I would make it to him, so he had been waiting for me for a while by the time we met up at Casa Port, the station near his house.

Luckily, he is a super-nice, extremely patient guy and I had gotten that Moroccan phone number, so we were able to communicate while I was en route.  His English is pretty good and we are able to understand one another for the most part.  He says it’s a good way for him to improve his English skills, having someone visit who speaks that language.  He also speaks Arabic/Moroccan Arabic and French fluently. (Moroccan Arabic is a different dialect than Arabic, I’ve learned, but both are spoken widely here, and are relatively interchangeable, from what I understand.  In addition, he is learning German and hopes to study in Germany within the next year or so.  So we were usually able to find ways to get our points across, occasionally even finding words had cognates in French or German or Spanish (of which I know a little), and when we couldn’t, we turned to trusty Google Translate for help.  Sometimes, things were simply comical, but we managed!

When we arrived at his house, we found Anas’ uncle, Tayeb (who speaks only Moroccan/Arabic and French) and Anas’ former English teacher, Mohammed, a lively, engaging guy.  The two men went out for a bit to run errands while I got settled, and when they returned, Tayeb cooked us chicken tangine, a traditional Moroccan dish, made in a small clay oven, usually with vegetables and meat.  It was absolutely delicious!  We also had some Moroccan mint tea, sweet and tasty!  The best part, though, was when Anas tried to explain tangine to me.  When I asked what it was, he said, “You know, it’s like this…” and put his hands together, fingertips touching to make a pyramid shape.  I finally got out of him that it could be chicken, “you know, like this.”  I couldn’t imagine what chicken was triangular, or pyramid shaped, but I settled back to wait and find out.  When the food came out, I discovered that a tangine is the way that Moroccans cook their food in a cooker, usually on the stove or fire.  The cooker has a plate/bowl where you put the food, (usually vegetables and often meat, sometimes couscous) and a lid which is shaped like a cone, which was the shape Anas had tried to describe for me.   mmmm….tangine.  Meat, veggies, and spices.  Delicious.

The next morning, Anas had planned to take me out and around a bit in the area since he didn’t have school over the weekend.  We got up and went around the corner to a shop for coffee and breakfast.  I had a delicious type of yogurt that was a little sweet, and tasted kind of like mishti doi in W. Bengal.  I enjoyed it immensely.  When I asked Anas what it was called he told me it was yogurt.  I’m not sure if it’s a special kind of yogurt or if all the yogurt here is sweetened like this.  Either way, I’ll eat this for breakfast anyday!

Anas’ friend Youssef met us at the coffee shop and then we were picked up by Hachem in his car with his friend Fadwa.  The five of us drove to the next town to the north, Mohammedia, to spend the day at the beach.  It was quite beautiful and we had a delightful time!  The area was clearly very good for surfing and there were beautiful shells all along the shoreline.  The weather was gorgeous, too.

Later that afternoon, we came back to town and Hachem dropped Anas and I off at the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca.  This is the biggest mosque in Casablanca.  It is enormous, touristy, and beautiful.  We arrived almost at sunset, which made for some stunning photos.  Non-muslims aren’t usually allowed into mosques, and it wasn’t until we returned to Anas’ house that night, that I found out from Mohammed that they actually allow people into that mosque at certain times during the day for tours.  We hadn’t been there at the right time to go in anyway, but it’s too bad I missed that chance.  I don’t know if that opportunity is available anywhere else in Morocco (or anywhere).  Nonetheless, I enjoyed looking at the mosaics and gorgeous architecture. The people were fun to watch as well.  We continued on after the mosque to the city center, the old medina area of Casablanca.

One thing I noticed is that all of the kids I saw seemed to be happy here in Morocco.  I didn’t see kids who were crying or whining at their parents.  I didn’t see parents yelling at their kids or dragging them along through the squares and scolding them. In fact, most seemed to be running freely, at quite a distance from their parents, having a great time, playing with other kids, while the parents kept an eye on them.  It was nice to see, and I enjoyed walking around there as well.  We stopped in a coffee shop where Anas’ father used to come when he had lived in Casablanca during his college days. We sat for quite a while talking and Anas explained a lot of things to me about Moroccan culture.  It was a great discussion. After we went back home, we found Mohammed and Tayeb again and spent time hanging out with them and were lucky enough to have another delicious chicken dinner!

Sunday, I got to meet more of Anas’ friends.  First, he had someone over that he knows from couchsurfing minglers, a Spanish guy named Julio.  That was great, as I got to get some good input from both guys about couchsurfing and some ideas about where I could and should go while I’m here in Morocco.  For lunch, Tayeb made couscous.  It was incredible!   It took a few hours – he made it from scratch!  Moroccan food is served in one plate, and everyone eats from the same plate, sharing the meal together.  This couscous had vegetables on it and chicken with onions in the center. It was extremely flavourful!

Later, Yeonjoo, a girl from Korea came by and we had a great chat and then two more of his friends trickled in, Haitam and Othman.  Both of them have been friends with Anas for a while and they had come in from other towns via train.  The other two guys ended up crashing overnight, as we all stayed up very late into the night, partying, laughing, singing.  At one point, the boys treated me to an improv musical performance (see it here) , on traditional instruments!  It was great.  Also, Haitam cooked dinner for us – some of the best linguini with crème fraiche and fish I’ve ever had!  The fish was covered with melted cheese, the alfredo sauce was perfect – it was incredible.  It was served in the Moroccan shared dish style, amazing!

I definitely enjoyed my time with the Anas and his friends.  I am very glad I got to know them and it was a nice way to learn several things about the country as I arrived, such as how some of the taxis worked and some cultural questions etc.  Anas was so sweet and welcoming!  The next morning, he took me to the train station and helped get me on the train to Rabat, which is the capital city of Morocco.  I’m looking forward to seeing that town.  I’m staying with a couple who live in the Kasbah, she’s from Spain, and he’s Moroccan.  Apparantly there’s an international music festival this week in Rabat, too, so maybe I’ll get to see some of that….

 

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Rock in the Kasbah

Jun 4, 2014 @ 1:14

After arriving in Rabat by train, I haggled with some taxi drivers for a while before finally finding one who only overcharged me a little bit to take me to the kasbah gates where I was going to meet Nuría, my hostess for the AirBnB place where I am staying.  When we met, she led me through the labyrinthine streets of the kasbah, which is the old, walled city of Rabat, to her home, which she shares with her boyfriend Tarik.

It’s a beautiful home with a lovely terrace and a view over the river which runs between Rabat and its twin city, Sale.  I have my own level of the house, with an alcove for my bed and Tarik and Nuría serve me breakfast on the terrace each morning.  It’s pretty awesome.

There is a big, annual, international music festival that happens to be going on this week (lucky me!) here in Rabat, called Festival Mawazine – Rhythms of the World.  There are 5 or 6 different stages set up in different areas of the city.  Each stage has a different theme of music, such as International, or African, or World.  Some of the headliners this week are Justin Timberlake, Stromae, Robert Plant, Ricky Martin, and Alicia Keys.  From the terrace at Tarik and Nuria’s, you can see (and hear) two of the stages!  The concerts start at different times, so you can actually hear different music at diffent times of the evening, and it only overlaps for a little while.  However, since I’ll be at some of the shows, the overlapping won’t be an issue.  The concerts are all free, too, btw!

Tarik is an excellent chef and the first night I was in town, he taught me how to cook a chicken tangine!  It was a great experience.  Apparently there is a mixture of 99 spices that Moroccans use to flavour their meals.  So clearly, I don’t know what all went into the meal we prepared, but it was delicious!

Although I didn’t actually go to a show last night, I could hear the concerts from the house while we were cooking and eating our delicious tangine.   As the music was shaking the town until well into the night, I realized what The Clash must’ve been referring to.  The Kasbah was definitely Rocking.  Tonight I went to a concert with Tarik and Nuría for some firsthand experience.

First, we went out to dinner at a local restaurant and had a traditional Moroccan soup called harira, which is made with chickpeas and lentils.  It was very delicious, and is apparently served every day during Ramadan to break one’s fast.  This year Ramadan starts sometime at the end of June.  I expect I’ll have moved on to another country by then, so I’m glad I got to try some now.  The guys at the restaurant asked Tarik if I spoke any Berber, which is one of the desert tribes in Morocco, assuming I was Moroccan.  (He told them I knew a little – which is to say, I know how to say “Thank You” and we had a good laugh about it when we left the restaurant).

Later, we walked down to the concert.  The band playing was a French-Algerian reggae-ska group called Zebda.  I really liked it.  We ran into a group of Tarik’s friends and his brother who were really lively and fun to hang out with.  You can see them dancing a little in this clip from some of the concert.  I’m definitely going to go to another show tomorrow!

 

 

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Tombs, Towers, and Tunes 

Jun 5, 2014 @ 13:20

One of the first places I went to visit in Rabat was a little garden near Nuria and Tarik’s home.  It was absolutely beautiful.

The next day, I headed out to see some more sights in town.  One of the more famous things to see in Rabat is the tomb of Mohammed V, the grandfather of the current king.  This tomb is built next to the Hassan Tower from the 12th century, I believe.  It was going to be the largest mosque of it’s time, but for some reason was not completed.  Then an earthquake ruined the rest of it, but left the tower standing.  The sites are pretty cool to see together.  So I walked over there from the house and did the tourist thing for a while.

After that, Nuria and I had planned to meet up and go to Chellah.  This is the site of an ancient Roman and then Arabic city during medieval times on the outskirts of Rabat.  Used in the past as a Roman villa, forum and necropolis, an Arabic mosque and school, and for other things throughout the years, it is now inhabited by nesting white storks.  There are upwards of 100 nests there.  The ruins are absolutely beautiful and quite peaceful.  

When Nuria and I arrived, we realized that we’d arrived at Chellah just about in time for one of the Mawazine concerts.  The international stage was set up there for the festival.  That day, a group was playing from Mongolia called Egshiglen (yeah, doesn’t sound Mongolian to me, either).  They hadn’t started yet, so we went to look at the ruins first.

Nuria has her degree in archaology/anthropology of some sort (I can’t seem to ever get the details right, but she helps reveal and renovate stuff from the past!) and so knew all sorts of great information about the site. Even after the music started at the top of the hill, once we passed into the ruins, we couldn’t really hear anything from there.  So after I’d looked around, asked her a bunch of questions, and marvelled for a while, we headed back up to the concert area.

Egshiglen was mid-concert, and I have to say I have never heard such sounds in my life.  I think it was some sort of throat singing..?  Here‘s a super-short little clip.  We were fascinated.  We arrived just in time to listen to a few songs before the end of the show.  (Although it was great, I’m not sure I’d have wanted to listen to more than that, so it really worked out perfectly).

Then, we walked back into town and stopped for some delicious avocado milkshakes.  I hadn’t had one this good since I was in Dubai several years ago!  The ones I’ve been making at home just didn’t quite match up.   That was the night we met Tarik for dinner and then went to the Zebda concert by the Kasbah.

By then, I’d been enjoying my time in Rabat so much, and really, enjoying my time with Nuria and Tarik as well, that I decided to stay an extra day in Rabat, since they were able to accommodate me.

So the next day, I went around some more in the town and spent time in the medina.  This is the market part of the town.  It’s a labyrinthine area of streets and alleys lined with stalls and shops galore, selling everything you could possibly imagine.

I also went around to the other side of the Kasbah from where I’d been staying to see the ocean.  The views there were pretty great.  There was a cemetery and a mosque, as well as surfers and beach-goers.

That night, Tarik and I went to the concert, since Nuria wasn’t feeling up to snuff.  The performer was an American with Nigerian roots named Iyeoka.  She was absolutely wonderful, her voice an interesting mix between Tracy Chapman and Amy Winehouse and Lauryn Hill.  I liked her music and she was very engaging.  It was also nice to be at a concert where I understood not only the lyrics, but what the artist said between songs!  (I don’t speak French, so I hadn’t been able to understand Zebda the night before.)  The lighting at her show was also super-cool.

I really liked the concert culture I found in Morocco.  The concerts went well into the night, but people were there with their entire families.  Parents had their little kids with them, and they would be dancing and playing in the crowd.  I saw some adorable little tots meeting one another and dancing together while the parents looked indulgently on.  As the night wore on, I’d see elderly couples wending their way through the crowds as well.  Not the type of people you’d see at a festival in the US.  It was a great mix.  Also, people didn’t crowd or shove, but left space for dancing and movement.  Lovely.

Today, I’m taking a train to Fes.  This is another large city in Morocco.  I’ve arranged to stay in a riad owned by a man who Tarik knows.   Fes is known for its leather tanneries and bustling medina.  After a few days there, I’m heading further north to a place in the Rif Mountains that I saw pictures of at Anas’ house.  Hopefully, I’ll have time to make it down to visit the desert at another couchsurfing guy’s home I’ve been talking to before heading to Essaouira for the Gnawa music festival.  In the meantime, I’m glad I stayed here in Rabat.  I really feel like I made some great new friends here –  I hope Nuria, Tarik, and I can see one another again.  What a great AirBnB experience!

 

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 What the Hammam?

Jun 5, 2014 @ 23:41

When I first arrived in Fes, Aziz picked me up at the train station and took me to his house, a riad in town near the Bab Boujloud (Blue Gate) where he lives with his family.  He has a couple of homes here in town which he rents outs to travelers.  This evening, he took me to see one of his other houses.

It was a beautiful riad, with amazing mosaic work on the inside.  My room at his house is up higher in the building.  I couldn’t tell you what floor, since the home seems to have rooms popping off the stairwell at all sorts of heights.  The stairs here, and all over Morocco are each different heights, rather than uniform, which can make for a challenging ascent and descent.  On the roof, there are tables and couches set up where I was served the ubiquitous Moroccn mint tea upon arrival and where I’ll get breakfast in the mornings.  Aziz and his family live just below the roof level of the home.

Upon arriving at his house initially, Aziz immediately suggested that I go to a hammam that afternoon with his wife Fatima.  Since I’d been traveling on the train that day and was a bit tired, and because I thought it would be an interesting experience, I decided to go.  I had never been to a hammam before, but was told to bring shampoo, a towel, and a pair of underwear that I could get wet…okay, let’s see how this goes.

So Fatima came to pick me up and we walked through the maze of streets and over to the hammam.  Hammams are public bath houses.  If they are co-ed, they are open at different times for men and women.  On the way, we met another woman, Maia, who would be staying at the riad as well and she decided to join us.

At the hammam, I stripped down to my underwear and left my belongings in the front room, which reminded me of a locker room with benches and hooks to hang your stuff.  There was a woman at the front who took people’s money and also sold shampoo, razors, etc.  Another woman who worked there came for me and took me into the back room.  She, like me, was topless (although she wore shorts) and gestured for me to lie down on a mat on the ground which was surrounded with buckets of hot water.  There, she first washed me and massaged my muscles, then scrubbed me with a black soap.  She left that on me for a while.  The room was steamy and hot, and opened up my pores.  When she returned, she rescrubbed and pumiced my body with the black soap, removing all dead skin.  My hair was washed, a couple of times too.  After I was all squeaky clean, she covered me with another goop and then took me into the next room which was also warm, but not quite so steamy.  There were many women in that room, some on mats, some on little stools.  Since I was covered in that new stuff, I sat there in the warm room, letting the magic hammam steam and soap work its magic.  I didn’t have my glasses on, so most of what was happening in the room was blurry.  Other women were shaving, rinsing, chatting.  Maia came in after a while and sat next to me.  We chatted for a while until the woman came back and rinsed me off.  I was brought, shiny and clean to the front room where Fatima was waiting.

I must admit, I felt great!  A full body massage, exfoliation, scrub and clean?  No complaints here!  I also thought it must be an interesting job to have, the woman who scrubbed and massaged people.  What must it be like, to come to work every morning, take off your shirt, and start massaging other women, topless?  Makes sense, since you’d just get wet anyway, but still…different.  How many jobs are there where you get to work topless and don’t have to sell your body?  She seemed so comfortable.  I found it such an interesting contrast between this relaxed atmosphere and the way women are percieved here with their headscarfs and long clothing.  I wish I could speak Arabic or French to have asked her about it.  I couldn’t even ask Fatima because she barely spoke any English.  Nonetheless, it was a great experience.  I enjoyed it and am glad I went.

I decided to book a tour guide through Aziz for tomorrow.  There are many things to see in Fes and I will only be here for a couple of days, so I might as well get someone to show me around.  Aziz will be able to get someone who knows what he’s doing, is licensed, and won’t super-overcharge me.  We’ll see what tomorrow brings!

 

 

 

 

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Fes Forward

Jun 6, 2014 @ 23:17

I decided to take a guided tour through Fes.  My host Aziz arranged it for me and Maia, one of the other women staying in his house, decided to join as well.  She is half American and half Italian, so her English is perfect (as is her French and Italian and half a dozen other languanges, I think)!  Our guide was going to meet us at the house after our breakfast – a delicious combination of the ubiquitous Moroccan mint tea and a combination of breads and jams and honey on the rooftop of our home.

Our tour guide was named Moustafa and also spoke many languages – very quickly!  He liked to switch between languages to explain things as well, sometimes to describe something better by giving synonyms or cognates, but sometimes just because he thought Maia wanted to hear it in another language or something.  So he was a bit difficult to follow.  Also, he didn’t always follow through with his stories and trains of thought.  So the day was a bit scattered and a little confusing at times.  The medina in Fes is very large and labyrinthine and there is much to see as well, so we had a lot to cram into a short amount of time.

Unfortunately – and this is something Maia and I had both been afraid of and dreaded when booking a tour – we were shuffled from store to store quite a bit throughout the day.  Often when going on a tour of an area, the tours are arranged so that you are “encouraged” to purchase local products.  Occasionally, this works out, as you wanted to get some souvenirs anyways; however, it usually just makes you feel like a walking tourist-shaped wallet, targeted for easy access!  Nonetheless, we did cover a lot of ground and saw many things during the tour.  I couldn’t have seen so many things on my own as I would’ve spent many hours lost in the maze of the medina.

In the morning, we saw the Serafine Medrasah, or school, which was founded in the 13th century and still in use.  We saw several schools, actually, in our wanderings.

The Serafine Medrasah’s right next to the Qaraouiyine Mosque, which we glimpsed inside, as we passed by during a busy call to prayer time.

Then, we went to a Berber carpet house.  The Berbers are one of the desert tribes of nomadic people who live in Morocco.  One of the things they are known for is their carpet-making skills.  Both males and females make carpets, but traditionally, the larger, more complex ones are made by women.  Maia was very interested in the textiles and cultural aspect of this as she is an artist who has been working with textiles lately for a large project she just completed with fabric and wind.  Check it out here.

After “playing” their rooftop loom like a piano-harp, I settled down with Maia to look at the carpets they had there.  The carpets are made, not only with animal wool threads, but also sometimes with cactus silk.  I had no idea you could make silk from cacti!

The salesman showed us many different carpets and told us about the different styles.  The complex designs by the female weavers were full of symbolism.  Here is a short video of the salesman hawking his wares and talking about some of the symbols found in the carpets as he gets into his selling groove.  Maia and I had both been interested in getting some carpets, so after some hard bargaining, we all left happy.  Here, he talks about the symbols in the cactus silk carpet I eventually got for myself (and had shipped home).

Then we visited the Attarine Madrasah, a school started in the 1300s, which was so richly decorated and beautiful that we just stopped and stared!  Recently restored, it is open and empty for viewing now so we were able to go inside and look at the design work.  It was spectacular – mable and stones and cedar, among others.

One of the highlights of the tour was the leather tannery of Fes. Smell-wise, this is not true. The hides of many animals puts up quite a stink. Add to it the smell of all the “pidgeon poo” they use to cure the hides and the other natural chemicals they use and it’s almost overpowering.

To give you an idea of how bad it is let me just tell you that they actually gave us sprigs of fresh mint leaves to hold to our noses during the tour! Here‘s a video of the tour guide at the tannery. In the first half he’s telling us about how they make the leather, and in the second half, he talks about what natural dyes they use to color the skins.

After the tannery, we went to the Nejjarine Museum and spent some time there while the Mostafa went to say his prayers.  The museum was also in a beautiful building and had some interesting things to see.

 

Afterward, Maia and I enjoyed some mint tea on the museum rooftop.  This was a special brew with jasmine in it! One thing I found interesting, and I noticed this particularly in Casablanca as well, is how many satellite dishes there are in Morocco. If you look at the top of any building, you will see half a dozen or more. It makes for an interesting skyline!

 

Then, it was off to see more things!  We saw some embroidery work, and then went to a female co-op where they make essential oils.  I learned a little bit about argan oil, which is very popular here.  It’s used in shampoos, lotions, soaps, cooking, just about everything, it seems!  Apparently, it’s very beneficial!  I may have to give it a try….

After the tour, Maia and I went out for dinner in the medina.  At her recommendation (she had tried this dish in the mountains with some women she met while traveling), I tried a tanjine I hadn’t had before.  It was made with beef, plums, raisins, and almonds.  I was stunned at how delicious it was!  I really enjoyed it.

Maia and I are both of the opinion that the whirlwind of a tour like the one we had today, while helpful for seeing a lot at once, is exhausting, and – perhaps – not quite worth it.  It definitely depends on the tour guide you get, and it’s always a gamble.  While ours had a lot of information to impart, he had no flow regulator, which was tough to handle!  It’ll be a long time before I book another tour like that!  

I’m planning to check out the town at my leisure tomorrow.  Maia and I, along with a Frenchwoman who is staying in our home as well, have signed up for mini-facials tomorrow at an argan oil shop down the road.  That should be fun!

 

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Figs, Fountains, and Facials in Fes

Jun 8, 2014 @ 9:07

 

Yesterday, after breakfast, Maia and I decided to go to a garden the French woman in our home recommended.  She used to live here in Morocco, so she’s pretty comfortable here and knows her way around.  Since the Jardin Jnane Sbil is relatively near to the Bab Boujloud (Blue Gate) by our home, she walked over there with us and we all made our appointments for our facials this afternoon at the argan oil store on the way.

Maia and I had a lovely time walking around the garden.  It was laid out rather formally and had all sorts of exotic plants.  There were also multiple water features and quite a bit of shade, which was nice!

A lot of people were there, enjoying the garden too, and it was nice to see so many locals taking advantage of that that sort of thing. Maia knows a lot about plants, so she was able to show me some interesting things.  For example, I got to see peppercorn growing on a tree.

 

After a while,  we ran into our housemate again, and walked around Fes all together for a while.  We were hoping to visit the Jewish cemetery, but as it is the Sabbath, it turned out to be closed.  We walked past the royal palace, however, which is one of the King’s residences – I guess he has one in every town – just in case!

 

 

We had all been invited by Aziz to join him and his family for couscous, a traditional Moroccan meal, which is cooked in a tangine.  So having seen more of the city, we headed back home for a delicious meal en famille on the roof.

It was completed with mint tea (of course!) and delicious fruit, and I was able to eat my first fresh fig!  It was delicious.  They peel easily with a knife and then are soft and tasty, with the edible seeds!

 

 

 

After a much needed nap, we all met up again and went to get our faces done at Arganabi, the nearby argan oil and essential oils store.  One of the reasons we chose to go there was a lotion from that shop that our friend had been using since her last visit from France.  It had a combination of different essential oils, but really helped her knee, which had been swollen with arthritis, and acted up last time she came here.

In Morocco, there are a lot of stairs.  One thing I noticed as well, is that none of the stairs are the same height.  Many of the buildings are very old.  One step will be huge and the next will be quite shallow.  It makes climbing and descending any staircase a bit of an adventure.  In addition, many of the staircases are spiral-shaped.  Having aching joints and trying to navigate this city would be quite a challenge.  She used this cream and it helped her literally overnight with her pain and swelling.  So she took us to the shop to check it out a couple of days ago.  As we wandered the shop smelling all the essential oils (jasmine, orange blossom, rose, mint, etc) their skin product line came up and one thing led to another and there I was, a couple of days later, getting some sort of black soap smeared all over my face by some girl who spoke only a little English.  I’ll tell you what, though:  the facial wasn’t anything fancy, but it only cost a few bucks, and I definitely walked out of there with a smooth, glowing complexion.  And after nearly three months on the road, I can assure you, I needed it!

Last night, Maia and I went back again to a cafe we had found a day or so before called The Clock Cafe.  It had a rooftop dining area and we had been a couple times since our first visit.  We really liked the atmosphere.  There were students studying, and young people of many cultures who would come there to hang out.  There is a very relaxed and friendly vibe, where you can meet people or mind your own business.  We liked the place.  Food was pretty good, too! So we enjoyed a final evening there.  We met a guy who was Moroccan but lived in France and ended up talking for a while before coming home late.

Today, I’ve booked a seat on the bus to Chefchaouen, a small mountain town in the north of Morocco.  I saw some pictures that Anas showed me when in I was in Casablanca of a trip he and some of his friends took there and I absolutely have to see this place.  It looks beautiful!  I’m looking forward to some mountain hiking time!

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 Chefchaouen Blues

Jun 8, 2014 @ 20:07

After a long bus ride,  I just arrived in Chefchaouen, a town in Northern Morocco up in the Rif mountains.

It’s a beautiful town, known for the way most of the buildings have been painted blue and white.  It looks a bit like I’d imagine a little mountain Santorini would be.  I am happy to be here – Mountain Girl that I am – as it reminds me of home.  There are many tropical plants nestled among the pine trees, though, so it’s exotic and foreign at the same time,  familiar and comforting.

I’m staying in a little bed and breakfast called Dar Terrae.  Maia, the friend I made in Fes, recommended it, as she stayed here when she visited last week.  Of course, I wasn’t really thinking about the fact that she speaks fluent French and Italian (and a bunch of other languages) when I booked here.  This hotel is also known as Hotel Italiano, and I believe it may be owned by Italians.  I interacted online before arriving with a girl named Hanaa.  After arriving, I learned that she and her husband run this and another hotel in town.  She doesn’t speak much English.  Luckily however, a lot of people in northern Morocco speak Spanish, (which I studied for about 4 or 5 years while in school).

…So I just had a full-on 30+ minute conversation with someone completely in Spanish!  (with only a couple of fallbacks on Google Translate, and the occasional slip into French, since I’ve been surrounded by French-speakers for the last week, especially in Fes!)  Hanaa and I had a great talk over coffee as we finished up my registration.  We talked about her marriage, where to go here in Chefchaouen, how to get there (and back again!), what is the best way to get to the next town I’m visiting, and about her honeymoon in Turkey, since I’m going there this year, among many, many other things from nose rings to Bollywood to camping in the desert!  I must admit, I’m relatively pleased.  Clearly, I’m proud of myself, but I also really like Hanaa.  She’s super nice, and I’m looking forward to talking to her again.

Dar Terrae is a beautiful traditional riad located in the kasbah of Chefchaouen.  It’s got an open central courtytard and the rooms have windows that open onto the center.  On the rooftop is a terrace where they serve breakfast each morning.  Over the walls, there is a view of the city, and you can hear the calls to prayer over the rooftops.

It, like most of the buildings is the whitewashed and beautiful blue color.  It has lovely gold accents, which really shine.  I have a lovely alcove in my room for my bed, and an individual bathroom and fireplace (which I don’t need at this time of year – the fireplace, not the bathroom)!

I’m looking forward to checking out Chefchaouen this evening.  I’m going to walk around and see the village.  It’s nestled on the mountainside here, and the white buildings promise to be very picturesque.

Hanaa told me there’s a river nearby and a church, so I’m going to head over there for the sunset.  I’m also planning to go to Akchour, which is a nearby village which has waterfalls and is known for spectacular hiking in the next day or so.  Looking forward to some mountain riverside hiking time!

 

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The waterfall here in town was lovely.  To get there, I walked through the town and enjoyed seeing the beautiful blue and white buildings.

I liked seeing the townspeople interacting with one another and some children who were playing in the streets.  There were a lot of tourists at the waterfall area, checking things out, taking pictures, and there were vendors selling their wares.

 

 

One guy had a peacock he was showing off to tourists.  Some kids were reacting everytime the bird even moved, which made for some funny moments.

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was a cute little tea shop down by the banks of the river and there was a beautiful church on the hill beyond.

 

 

 

 

There was a fascinating covered area by the river where the water could be funneled through with individual stations where clothes could be washed.  After walking there, I came back to the kasbah and had a nice tangine in a restaurant just off the main square.

 

 

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It’s Akchour Thing!

Jun 9, 2014 @ 23:09

Akchour is, indeed, spectacular.  I am so glad I went even though it took a bit of doing to get there.  First, I walked from my hotel in the kasbah in Chefchaouen to the square where I could get a petite taxi to take me to the place where I could catch a grande taxi over to the next town.  Petite taxis only travel within the towns and usually cost about 6 or 8 Dirhams (day vs. night) here in Chefchaouen and you hire them idividually, although the driver can pick up up to 3 people.  Grand taxis go between towns and only leave when they have a total of 6 people.  You can leave earlier if you are willing to pay the fares for the empty spots.  Fares differ depending on the distance of the route the grande taxi goes.  I will say that six people plus a driver in a normal 4-door Benz is a bit more than cramped.  I’m glad I had time with Anas in Casablanca to figure all of this stuff out, and then Hanaa explained the directions to me so I could get to Akchour, which is maybe 30 km from Chefchaouen.

So after waiting a while, we had a full grande taxi and headed off to Akchour.    As you go towards the national park, you drive along the river, which is a rather incredible shade of blue, almost turquoise.  At this time of year, there are beautiful pink flowers in bloom all along the riverbed.  All of the trees are green and lush.  It’s lovely.  The taxi driver dropped us off in a parking lot by the entrance to the Parc National de Talassemtane.  From there, you can hike to the Cascades du Oued El Kelaa and the Pont de Dieu.Most people and articles I read suggest getting a guide to take you to the waterfalls or the bridge of God, but I really wanted to hike at my own pace (not fast – I have a short stride and don’t hike quickly anyway) and wanted to take pics and spend some time alone in nature.  Of course, I was approached by many people offering to guide me as I headed for the trail.  I declined, but the signs about the trails are in French, and the trails themselves aren’t marked very well.

I asked some guys at the restroom which way to the Pont de Dieu, but got headed off on the wrong trail and ended up wriggling through some thorny bushes on the side of a rather steep mountain on the wrong side of the river.  Stymied, I headed back down towards the river, where a young guy was beckoning me.  There were some little restaurants set up along the river, and I crossed some rocks to join him near them.  He led me up to the trail and offered to guide me.  I thanked him, but refused and he pointed me to the right trail.

I was walking then with the river on my left and a big mountain on my right.  As I was approaching a small farm, a young guy passed me heading for the river.  He stopped and gestured up to a large patch of pure green on the mountain.  “See that?” he asked.  “It’s marijuana!”  Sure enough, it was a giant field of marijuana, growing on the side of the mountain.  The Rif mountains are known for their hashish, a form of marijuana frequently smoked here in Morocco.  I was interested to see how openly people here treated its presence.  I believe it’s a large source of income here.

When I got to a crossroads at the farm, I asked someone for directions, and he pointed me to one path.  I later found out it was the wrong way.  I figured that out when I had scrambled up the side of the mountain for over an hour on what was essentially a mountain goat trail!  By the time I found the trail again, following voices and bouldering up a bit, I was hot and sweaty.  But the view was spectacular!  The river was far below me, still a stunning blue, winding through the valley, between mountains covered with trees.

Finally, the trail curved around and I saw the Bridge of God on the mountain ahead.  It was a huge arch over the river made of stone far abover the river.  As I approached, I could hear the cascades below it.  Just before reaching the bridge, I passed a guide with a couple of Asian girls.  He said I should return the way I came after visiting the bridge because the way afterwards was more difficult than the way I had come.  Not sure what to make of that, since I hadn’t come on most of the trail in the first place, I continued on to the bridge and enjoyed the incredible view of the river below.  I had gotten a late start that day, so the area was basically deserted by then.

Eventually, some guy approached me where I was sitting on the side of the cliff and we spoke a little.  He didn’t speak much English, so it took a bit of effort to communicate.  After some time, I got him to continue on without me (mostly by wandering around at the top of the mountain, going up dead-end trails and taking pictures), as I wasn’t super-keen on being out in the woods alone with this stranger I couldn’t communicate with.

I was considering going down the mountain to the river and walking downriver to the entrance of the park, but a little down the trail it became narrow, steep, and mountain goat-y, so I took the guide’s advice, and headed back the way I had come.  Since the trail was easier to follow once I was on it, I was able to make it back to the entrance without any difficulty.  When I passed the farm on the opposite side as the guy had sent me earlier, I realized he had sent me the wrong way originally.

I went down to the river to cool off and got some tea before heading out to catch a taxi back to Chefchaouen.  In the taxi, there was a nice couple from France who had been walking around in Morocco.  They had walked out to the park, but it took them so long to get there that they now needed a taxi to return to town!  Being so late in the evening, the taxi driver wanted us to pay more to just leave with only three people.  We wanted to wait and pay less.  Finally, we agreed on a middle price and took some local people with us for a shorter distance.

After I got back and showered, Hanaa’s husband had someone show me a restaurant he recommended.  I am sitting on a cushion on the floor, enjoying dinner (and mint tea, of course!), and working on this blog.  It’s been a long day, but I loved spending it up in the mountains.

 

 

 

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Mountain-Top-Chefchaouen

Jun 10, 2014 @ 23:45

I’ve really been enjoying my time here in Chefchaouen.  I’m loving being in the mountains.  I talked to Hanaa and ended up planning to stay another day.  I didn’t want to have to get up and leave super early the morning after my hike in Akchour and I wanted to spend a little more time checking out the town.  The timing works out too, cause Hanaa is hosting a wedding at the hotel and the guests arrive day after tomorrow, so I can stay the extra day, no problem.  Our conversations are giving me a little bit of Spanish practice too, so that’s fun and a nice challenge.

I’d originally hoped to continue on from here to the south of Morocco to see the desert.  I’ve been in contact with someone through couchsurfing who I’d thought about staying with before heading via Marrakech to Essaouira for the music festival.  However, since I’ve extended my time here (and in earlier towns, too!) I definitely don’t have time to do any of that now.  As it is, it’ll take all day by bus to get to Essaouira from here and it’s a little quicker to go via Casablanca, anyhow.  No need to add any extra stops on the way.   I’ll go straight to Essaouira tomorrow, since the festival starts the day after that.  I planned to be here in Morocco for that festival, so I want to make sure I’m in the town for it! I’ve scheduled an airbnb stay there with a couple who live in Essaouira just outside of the kasbah.

One thing I’ve been enjoying here in Chefchaouen is messing with people as they try and figure out what language to use when they address me.  When people walk past the shops and restaurants, merchants usually call out trying to lure customers into their shops.   With me, they start in one language, switch to another, and trail off into others in confusion, as I rarely respond at all or give them any clues or encouragement other than a small smile! (Bonjour!! Hello! Madamoiselle? Hello? Miss? English? Hola? India?…) And I have really confused some of the ones near to my hotel because I wore Indian clothing one day, wore American/western wear the next day, and then dressed rather conservatively the next in a skirt.  It’s great, though, because I can always pretend not to know whatever language they’re speaking as an excuse not to go into their stores!  I’m a little too nice and would end up in everyone’s store if I didn’t just keep walking!  Lately, in stores and restaurants, I find myself responding in whatever random language springs to my lips.  Having spoken so much Spanish recently and having toyed with and heard so much French and Arabic now, I find I mix the occasional Merci, Gracias, or Shokran in with my Thank yous.  I’m not even sure what language will come out, sometimes!

I generally try to avoid getting roped into most of the shops, but one guy I’d been passing every day finally got me to talk to him today by asking me about one of my rings (a clever ploy I saw right through, but I had time).  He was a young Berber man who worked at a shop selling Berber goods from the desert.  We chatted for a few minutes and then he asked me something surprising.  First, I thought it was a random trick to get me into the shop, but now I think may have been for real.

He asked me to write a letter for him in English.  He told me that he couldn’t write in English and that he had a friend he wanted to send a letter to.  He said most people wouldn’t even stop to talk to him, so he thought he’d ask.  As I said, I wasn’t in a hurry, so I went and sat in the shop and he brought me a little notepad and a pen.  He then dictated to/composed a letter with me.  He wrote to his friend, thanking him for a gift and then asking when exactly the guy was planning to come visit him in the desert where he lives and works.  Then, he reminded him not to forget to bring the vodka he had promised so they could sit and drink and sing music together when tue guy comes!  Inshallah (God willing), of course.   It was a great little note, actually.  I enjoyed writing it.

Afterwards, I sat and chatted with the guy for a few minutes.  He said he’d be going back to the desert again soon, and made it sound like he spent part of his time there and part here.  I learned that there are different types of nomadic people here in Morocco, with four different languages, other than Moroccan Arabic.  Berber has its own alphabet, which partially explains why he can’t write in English!  Although he offered to have me over this evening and play music for me, I didn’t take him up on the private showing.  Ironically, his was the second unsolicited random guy’s phone number I have gotten in the last two days!

Instead, I went and had dinner (a tasty omelet with goat cheese!) at a little restaurant overlooking the square in the kasbah.  It was nice and I enjoyed watching the people in the square while eating.  During dinner, I could hear the calls to prayer, as I had been hearing each day.  I tried to record it…you can listen here.

What I love about the calls to prayer is that there are many mosques throughout the town, and each one says the prayers.  They all start at slightly different times, though, and the resulting sound is like a crazy chorus in a round, which rises and falls in volume and tone (and tune!).  It’s an interesting song, but rather soothing in its constancy.

I returned to the hotel to wish Hanaa a happy birthday, as today was hers!  I was happy I got a chance to see her again before leaving.  She’d spent the day at her in-laws house, and it sounded like she’d had fun.  She was working when I got home, though at making Moroccan sweets for the wedding this weekend.  She gave me one to try, and it was a very tasty pastry!

Tomorrow, the adventure continues as I travel on to Essaouira, the city by the sea.  I’ll have to take a bus back to Casablanca and change there to take another one to Essaouira.  I’ll leave early in the morning and won’t arrive til after dark.  Another long, cramped traveling day.  Hopefully this music festival will make up for it!

 

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 Much Ado About Bussing

Jun 12, 2014 @ 9:45

 

I arrived last night in Essaouira after a long, rather exhausting day of travel.  I got up at 630 and left Chefchaouen (walk to square, take petite taxi to bus station).  Then, I had a 6-hour-long bus ride to Casablanca.   Partway through the trip, at one of the stops, I realized that two women had started to argue near me.  They fought about who would sit in which seat.  Things escalated and soon, they were both yelling at one another at top volume (in French and Arabic).  I understood nearly nothing, but I did understand that they were about to fistfight!  The other passengers were looking on, chiming in, most seemed quite entertained.   Finally, someone calmed the women down enough to take seats (neither was too pleased and one of them was sitting next to me, fuming indignantly) and the bus continued its journey.

When we finally arrived in Casablanca, I realized that I had to collect my bags from the bus (no luggage transfer service!)  I tried to ask someone where I needed to take them to recheck them for my next bus ride to Essaouira.  The man working there who I spoke with was not even remotely interested in helping me.  He seemed to be telling me to take my luggage and go.  I had first spoken to him in Spanish, as I had been doing at the bus station in Chefchaouen.  This man did not speak Spanish.  Okay….  So I tried to ask him in English.  No luck.  He turned away, clearly done with me, and started speaking to someone else, someone else who worked there he obviously just wanted to chat to.  I had typed the questions into Google Translate on my phone and tried show him my question about where to go, but he ignored me, even though I was standing right there!  I was more than just unhappy with that, and so went to find someone else.

Inside the station, I found the area where people were checking their bags who had just arrived.  I arrived at the front of the line and when the lady read my ticket, she told me, realizing I didn’t speak her language, the number 15.  I understood finally that she wasn’t asking for 15 dirhams for my luggage fee, but rather that I couldn’t return until 1500 hours to check in my bags.  That was more than 2 hours away.  She was quite rude, and not interested in any sort of compromise.  By then, I really just wanted to check my bags so I could just go to the bathroom and maybe find something to eat before my next bus ride which would be 8 hours long!

I approached a likely looking girl at the help desk then and asked her if I could please leave my bag with her for just a minute and if she could direct me to a toilet.  Trust me when I tell you that it is not practical to bring one’s luggage into a toilet that may very well be a hole in the ground….  And in any case, the only one I had seen thus far was in the area accessible only to passengers (which I couldn’t enter until after I had checked my bags after 1500!).  I was pretty peeved and upset by then, and she could see that.  She spoke enough English to ask me what was wrong.  I explained to her my problem and she kindly asked her manager if I could check my bag now, rather than later.  Her manager overrode the grumpy lady at the check-in desk, and I was able to get rid of my luggage, find a toilet, and leave the station!

I walked away, looking for a restaurant where I could get some food.  I found a place with an upstairs where I could go, as a single woman, and not be too out of place.  Even still, I was swarmed by waiters when I came in (all trying to guess which language to speak to me in!) but I followed one that guessed correctly up to a table.  Unfortunately, I had trouble with the food I ate, and couldn’t keep it all down.  After only a small amount of food and some mint tea, I returned to the bus station for the next leg of my journey.

On this bus, things went alright until the last couple of hours when some young guy sat next to me who spoke a little English.  He and his friends were also going to Essaouira for the festival, it seemed.  We chatted a little, and then he started asking me for money!  I played dumb and said I didn’t understand what he wanted.  He just kept repeating numbers and Dirham, which I didn’t really understand initially anyways.  Once I did figure it out, I was pretty irritated that he would just think I had extra money to give to him.  I’m not sure why he thought I would.

He was getting rather insistent when we got to one of the stops in Essaouira.  I wasn’t sure if mine would be this one or the next.  I’d been texting Youness on my way into town, my airbnb host, so I called him and then, at his okay, hustled off the bus at the last moment at that stop, grabbing my luggage and not giving the moocher any money.  Ah, the joys of travel….

 

Then, I stood at the bus stop and fended off taxi drivers until Youness pulled up in a taxi and picked me up!  I was really relieved to see him, I must say, after the day I’d had.  He took me to his place, where I met a Belgian girl named Anna, who is here for the festival also.  I didn’t meet Youness’ girlfriend yet.  His home is nice and has a rooftop terrace.

Youness’ Baby Eagle
(Didn’t want to get too close and scare it!)

He’s nursing a little baby eagle to health on his roof!  He found it without a mother and he’s been feeding it and raising it.  This morning he fed it raw meat.  He thinks it’s getting ready to fly away on its own soon.  Fascinating.

Should be a pretty decent place to stay during the festival this week.  Either way, at least I don’t have to get on a bus for a while!

 

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Essaouira, Port of Timbuktu

Jun 13, 2014 @ 9:08

Wow.  Essaouira is so amazing!  It’s been such a whirlwind since I arrived that I haven’t had a chance to write anything down and I have so much to say, but I’m going to give it a go!

I’ve totally hit it off with Anna, the girl from Belgium who was staying with Youness, my AirBnB host.  She’s here expressly for the purpose of attending the music festival as well.  She’s a big fan of Gnaouan music because she dated a guy from Essaouira a few months ago, I guess, who introduced her to the music.  Since she has been to Essaouira before (although this is her first festival), she knows several people who live here in town.  It seems like everywhere we go in town we run into people she knows!  It really makes this town, bustling and busy as it is with the festival, seem small, friendly, and welcoming.

The first day after we got up and had some breakfast with Youness at a nearby restaurant, Anna and I decided to go see the battlements of Essaouira and check out the town a little bit during the day before the concerts began.  I had heard about the battlements of Essaouira because they were built by the same person who built the ones in St. Malo, a place I visited in France while there for my friends Betsy and JP’s wedding in 2010.  Immediately upon arriving at the walls of the town, I could see the similarities.

Essaouira is essentially a small fortress built on the Atlantic coast.  In days gone by, it was known as the Port of Timbuktu, as this is where ships would have to dock to unload for access to the Sahara and deeper into Africa.  The road to Marrakesh from Essaouira is a straight line, and from there, caravans would embark on the journey to Timbuktu.  For many years, Essaouira was the main port of Morocco.  So now I’m at the port of Timbuktu…to attend a music festival (definitely not somewhere I’d have expected to be if you’d asked me a few years ago)!

Anna and I enjoyed looking over the walls of the city as the ocean waves crashed against the battlements.  It was a spectacular view.  We checked out the inside of the medina as well, walking from one end around to the other.  It was very nice, clearly bustling for the festival.  Some of the items on sale were rather comical as well.

We met up with Youness for the opening concert that night.  We returned to the house before him and were horrified to realize, after sitting on the balcony for a few minutes, that the baby eagle had been dangling for the whole time from his ankle tether, which had gotten hung up on the laundry clotheslines!  I only noticed it because he flapped his wings a little, adjusting himself.  It looked a bit like when you hang a live chicken upside down to carry it to market.  Clearly, he had tried to fly away, or was testing his wings, but had gotten his string tangled by flying from here to there so that he ran out of length.  He was just a couple of centimeters away from being able to perch on a water faucet nearby and couldn’t get up enough momentum to swing over.

After a few moments of intense discussion about what to do, and not wanting to get pecked or traumatize the bird any more than had already happened, I slowly approached his corner of the balcony.  I picked up a plant pot base, shaped like a plate, and approached the bird, until I was able to put the plate near enough for him to climb onto.  I lifted the plate with the baby eagle standing on it up over the clothesline and around until he was a bit less tangled and let him step back onto his normal area.  He stayed near my hand – within a few centimeters for a minute or so!  I was so excited, I was talking in a low voice to Anna – I’ve never been so close to a baby eagle, and he was so calm!  I know he was a bit acclimated to humans because of Youness, but still!  It was cool.  Clearly, he’s figured out how to fly!  When we told him about it upon his return, Youness said he’d have to untie him so he could fly away and start living on his own.  It’ll be interesting to see if he sticks around or comes back to visit his former “home” after he leaves.

So we left to go to the Place Moulay Hassan, the main square of the town, so we could go to the opening concert of the show.  There are four or five different stages set up throughout the city, with shows playing over the next several days.  The main ones are either in the central square or ata a stage set up directly on the beach.  This should be a great festival!  The concerts are all free, but Anna had gotten a special pass so she could go into the front area of the show, where you can go right up against the stage or find seats to sit near the front.  Otherwise, you stand in the back area (like a commoner, haha).  Clearly, this is what I had planned on doing; however, we decided to give it a go and tried the method of having Anna say, “They’re with me,” when she went through the security with her pass.  It worked!  We were suddenly right in the front of the concert, directly up by the stage!  Smooth move, Anna!

When we arrived, a guy named Maâlem Said Oughassal was playing with his band.  These guys are a typical Gnaouan musical group.  Typically, the Maâlem (or Master) plays the gimbri (or hajhuj), a 3-stringed instrument, and percussion is provided by multiple krakebs (or qraqab) which are metal castanet-type instruments.  Here is a pretty good example of the sound the band makes, and this is a clip of the guys really going to town on the krakebs.

The other concert we saw that night, which was the one Anna had been telling us about (and with good reason, it turned out) was Didier Lockwood.  This was an incredible performance.  This artist is a French electric violinist who is absolutely phenomenal.  I had never seen someone play like this.  He would loop his sounds in some of his songs and made really unique sounds.  Here he is looping one of his songs.  It’s amazing work and right at the beginning I thought that it actually sounded like seagulls at the ocean!  We had a great time.

After the concert, we went to get some coffee, and Youness introuduced us to a drink they have in Morocco – verveine au lait.  It’s fresh verbena leaves in hot milk.  Oh man, I have fallen in love with this deliciousness….

 

 

 

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Beaches and VIP Concert Moments

Jun 15, 2014 @ 9:00

The second day of the music festival, we decided to go to Sidi Kaouki, which is a town near to Essaouira known for having a particularly beautiful beach.  Youness is a surfer, so he goes there a lot and wanted to show us the area.  His sister decided to join us, along with her boyfriend.  Anna also had a friend named Ismael, in town from Casablanca for the festival, who was going to join us.  Ismael came by the house to meet us and after a while we got ourselves organized and got a taxi hired to take us to the beach.

When we arrived, there was a crazy haze in the air everywhere.  It looked like there was some sort of a mist or sand storm, but it didn’t feel sandy, just looked that way.  We walked down to the beach to sit by the water and enjoy the day.  Eventually the haze burned off, but before it did, I got a few really interesting pictures.

We went into the water after a while and really had a great time swimming in the waves, body surfing and enjoying ourselves.  By then, it had really gotten quite hot.  Poor Anna nearly got sunstroke, I think.  By the time the taxi picked us up to return to Essaouira we were all quite dehydrated and needed some food, but had definitely enjoyed our time in Sidi Kaouki.

Anna and I had really wanted to make it to the first concert at the beach stage that night because the previous evening we had actually met a couple of guys at a bar who were members of a band called Kif Samba.  They were a local group who were slated to play first that evening.  Although our goal was to get there on time, we had to get some food first, and by the time that actually was accomplished and we made it into town to the beach stage, we were too late to catch the guys’ show.  We were disappointed (and I felt a bit guilty because we had promised the guys we’d be there and I knew we’d run into them again because somehow, although busy and full of people, the town was still small enough that we kept seeing everyone repeatedly).  Nonetheless, we arrived during a reggae concert, so I really couldn’t complain.  The band playing was Senegalese, called Meta and the Cornerstones.  The show was really good.

After that concert, we headed back to the main square for the next show.  We had met up with Anna’s friend Issam as well.  Issam had a friend who worked at Taros, which is a very popular club right on the corner of the Place Moulay Hassan.  They were having a big VIP party, and he was able to get us in!  From the rooftop of this bar, you could look out over the entire square and watch the concert.

There was also a really large party raging, which went on long after the concert ended.  We had a blast, met some new people and partied until nearly dawn!

 

 

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The next morning, Anna and I had planned to meet up with her friend Mounem for some coffee.  I had my favorite thing ever – some nus-nus coffee, (half-half coffee – half-coffee, half-milk, which they somehow manage to keep in separate layers in the cup) – delicious and absolutely beautiful!  Full confession:  I may have followed that up with a cup of Verveine au Lait….

 

Anna and I had decided that we wanted to go to one of the artist Q & A sessions that they had been hosting in the daytime during the festival.  During these sessions, the artists would talk a little bit about what they did and then they would often play a song or two.  Anna was very keen on attending one of these and I thought that it would be very interesting to see.  It didn’t really occur to me that it would be either in Arabic or French until after we got there… Sure, there were things that were translated – from Arabic into French!  No worries, though.  Music transcends language.

We met up with Issam and managed to locate the area where they had been holding the musician talkbacks.  This day, we not only got to hear a talk with the lead of a group called Derdba, and with Meta of the Meta and the Cornerstones (who actually spoke quite a bit in English – yay!) but then, the great Maâlem Brahim El Belkani came to the stage.  This man is essentially a Gnawa music legend.  Not only was it fascinating and absolutely amazing to listen to the man perform, but there was one thing that he did which I really thought was impressive as well.  During his interview, the call to prayer sounded.  In all my time in Morocco thus far, when this happened – and it happens many times a day, I’ve never really seen anyone actually stop what they were doing.  The Maâlem actually requested that the entire event pause for a few moments of silence.  I really respected that.  And then, we were treated to an amazing intimate performance – here‘s a clip.  Also, here is a small audio clip of Meta, during his interview.

 

After that amazing Q&A session, Anna and I decided to get some tangine with Ismael at a restaurant Youness recommended.  I had been talking to my friend Anas who I couchsurfed with in Casablanca, as he had decided to come to Essaouira for the festiva with his friend Haitem (the one who cooks the most amazing alfredo ever)!  The two of them met us at the restaurant and we headed over to the beach from there to start another evening’s musical festivities.

We arrived during Derdba’s concert.  We had heard a couple of the guys from the band talking at the Q&A that afternoon, so it was neat to see them perform.  A group of us hung out at the beach stage for a while, staying long enough to hear an artist named Ayo.  Here‘s a clip of Ayo.  I finally got the chance to meet Rossina, Youness’ girlfriend(?) who, as it happens lives in Sidi Kaouki, rather than at his AirBnB where I was staying.  She is a Spanish-speaker, and is really nice, so I enjoyed trying to chat with her a little bit.

Then Anas, Haitem, Issam, Anna, Ismael, and I walked back into the central square to try and catch the concerts of Ibrahim Maalouf and Marcus Miller.  Ibrahim Maalouf is a world-reknowned trumpet player.  Unfortunately, we arrived near the end of his concert, but he did some fusion later that evening, so we were able to hear him play with the incredible bass player, Marcus Miller.  By then, some of us had made our way back into the VIP party at Taros, where we had a great view!  Marcus Miller also did some great fusion with Maâlem Mustapha Baqbou, a Gnaouan music group.  Overall, a fabulous day with incredible music!

 

 

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Sand Castles and River Homes

Jun 16, 2014 @ 6:01

Ismael, Anna and I had made plans to meet up with Anas and Haitem over coffee the following morning.  Coffee, was a leisurely experience, as most of our mornings thus far have been, with different friends popping in and out to join us for a coffee.

I think my favorite thing that happened during the meal was when this large vehicle pulled up near the restaurant with a huge, blazing skull and the words “I’m Muslim, Don’t Panic, Coexist.”  The main group boiled down to Anna and me, Anas and Haitem, and Ismael.  Our plan for the day was to go to see the “Castle in the Sand.”

Apparently, this is an area just to the south of Essaouira, which hosted a rather large hippie community during the sixties and seventies.  Some famous celebrities, such as Cat Stevens and Jimi Hendrix, even spent some time in this beautiful area.  Local legend has it that Jimi Hendrix wrote “Castles in the Sand” after his time here.  Actually, everyone who told me about this immediately hastened to tell me that he had written the song two years before coming to Essaouira, so I suspect the legend itself is the real legend, rather than the story.

The truth remains, however, that Hendrix did spend time here, and that the lyrics to the song certainly fit the area.  There is a beautiful castle to the south of Essaouira.  From the ruins of the castle, you can see the city itself.  Slowly, the castle is crumbling back into the sea and the desert.  Definitely, a must-see.

So the five of us got a taxi and headed down to check it out.  We weren’t disappointed.  This turned out to be probably the best day I’d spent in Essaouira thus far.  On our way out of town, we’d gathered some food for a picnic from the market.

After walking to the castle from the taxi drop-off point, we played around the castle ruins for quite a while.  The views were incredible and the weather was gorgeous.   Most of the time, we were the only people there.

After a while, we sat on some ruins, enjoyed some fresh, delicious, local food and listened to some – you guessed it – Jimi Hendrix!  

 

 

 

 

After a restful snack, we decided to walk along the river back into Essaouira.  Ismael had been telling us he had a friend who lived along the river who he was hoping to visit.  We didn’t really understand what he meant, and when he headed off to check on his friend, we thought he was going to spend the rest of the day with them.  We settled down by the river, intending to nap and hang out for a while. 

 

 

However, Ismael returned shortly and had us follow him to a wooded area by the river where there was a trail leading into tent and home compound area.  There were dogs and cats, even a goat!

At the home was a man named Simohammed and his wife Tata Mouna, and her grown son.  They also had a couple of people visiting them.  They were busy making a tangine which they had invited us to join them for.   We had a delightful afternoon with this welcoming family.  The tangine was delicious, and Simohammed gave us some incredible tea called fleoo.  It was like the typical Moroccan mint tea but had some extra spices in it that made the flavour quite different and tasty.  I recognized it, somehow, but couldn’t identify it.

While we were there, we met their goat (who Tata Mouna dressed up, amid jokes that the goat was looking for a mate), and Simohammed showed us this incredible door he had gotten.  Everyone discussed it quite intensely.  The door was inlaid and engraved wood.  It was absolutely beautiful.

When we finally left, we could hear the concerts beginning at the beach stage.  We headed up to the beach, where the river met the sea and walked up towards Essaouira while the sun set beside us.  It was spectacular.  I also got one photo with camel, horse, human, vehicle, and I think, dog tracks in the sand.  And we had a live concert soundtrack as we approached Essaouira from the beach stage side of town.  Pretty amazing.

That night was the closing night of the festival.  The concerts were great.  We had a wonderful time.  We saw a performance by Bassekou Kouyate & Ngoni Ba and Maalem Hamid El Kasri at the main stage.  The whole audience was into the performance, joining in the songs.  It was really neat to see.

Late that night, Anna and I accompanied the guys to the bus station so they could return to Casablanca.  Anas and Haitem had classes in the morning, and Ismael had to get back to work.  What an amazing festival!  Anna and I certainly aren’t ready to leave this magical place.

 

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Music Lessons and All-NightClubs

Jun 17, 2014 @ 6:03

Anna and I had decided to stay an extra night in Essaouira after the festival ended and so we got a hotel room near the center square of town to share the next day.  She’d been staying at another friend’s house the previous night or two, so we met up the next morning to check in at the Hotel al Fath, right near the battlements.  After we took a (much needed) nap, we headed out into town to look for a gimbri – the three-stringed guitar-like instrument used in Gnawa music.  Anna had been saying all week that she wanted to purchase one so she could learn how to play.

First, we decided to stop for some food.  Afterwards, we headed to Bob Music, a shop that I know I’d been wanting to check out since I’d first seen it.   Anna wasn’t expecting to find an instrument there, but wanted to see the store too.

Even the alley leading to the store was covered with Bob Marley paraphanalia.   Other artists, too, but mainly Bob!  Inside, they even had one of my very favorite, but rarely seen photos of Bob on the wall, crammed in among musical instruments, shirts, and signs.  My eyes were inundated.

While in the store, we started talking to the guy about the instruments in Gnawa music.  He had some krakebs, so we started fiddling around and the next thing we knew, we were getting a full-on lesson on how to play.  The krakebs are like two conjoined metal castanets.  You play them with your thumb and fingers, clanging them together.  Usually you alternate between your left and right hands.  We had a great time, learning several different rhythm patterns and playing  up a storm.

Ears ringing, we stepped back into the medina, determined now to find a gimbri for Anna.  I’m not sure if Anna new about the actual store we went to or just the general vicinity of music instrument stores, but somehow we ended up at a small shop down an alley in the medina, relatively near to our new hotel.  Inside the shop, which looked and smelled a bit like a carpentry shop, sat a smallish man, working on a musical instrument.  He was cutting pieces out of the end of it and replacing them with wedges of a different type of wood.  He had wood carvings around him, as well as a couple of completed musical instruments.

One gimbri, up against the wall, was completed and had been inlaid with mother-of-pearl, in addition to other wood.  It was a beautiful instrument.  Also, there were many drums in the room and some different animal skins stretched out to dry along the walls.  All of this, packed into a room no more than 3 meters square!

Anna started talking to Said, the artist, (mostly in French) and found out he had sold most of his instruments this week, but that she could actually purchase the instrument he was working on now if she was willing to wait for him to finish it.   He also said he’d work the night to try and finish it for her, if need be.  While we were talking, by then sitting on wooden pieces, laid across the empty bases of drums-to-be, he had been stringing the gimbri.  Watch here.

When he had finished stringing the instrument, he began tuning it and then played an impromptu song as he tuned.  He also told us about the instruments used in gnawa music and how he made the gimbri.  Listen.  We left the shop to let him finish the gimbri.  The rest of the inlay needs to still be done in the back of the instrument and it still needs to be varnished before it will be finished.  He said we could come back for it late tomorrow morning, which fits the schedule.  Anna and I are both taking buses out of town tomorrow afternoon.

So we have a final night in Essaouira to have a good time.  We had run into a guy we had seen throughout the week named Mohammed.  He said the neatest thing to us earlier on in the week.  He had mentioned that his band was playing somewhere and we should come.  When we saw him the next day and hadn’t been able to make it, his answer had been, “Hey, life is full of choices.”  A super-chill response.  I liked it.  Anyway, Mohammed asked us if we wanted to come to the beach with him tonight or to some jazz club.

We went to a bar with Mohammed and some of his friends.  We met a girl named Rachel who was traveling as well, from Australia.  Anna and I went to say goodbye to Youness and then met everyone up again at the jazz club.  There was a pretty good band playing a kind of Jazz-Gnaouan fusion and so we enjoyed ourselves until far into the morning – have a look at the band playing.  As we all stumbled home, having shut down the club, we agreed it had been a successful night!

Anna and I only had a couple of hours to grab some sleep before we had to get up and go pick up her gimbri from Said in the morning!  We’re looking forward to that.

 

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And the Bands Move On….

Jun 18, 2014 @ 16:08

 

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.

 

 

 

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Lieu Experiences

Jun 20, 2014 @ 12:55

The past couple of days have been pretty chill.  I needed it, I think, after the chaos and commotion of the music festival, fantastic though it was.  I’ve been staying at the Riad Le Lieu in Tiznit, a lovely little hotel just inside the kasbah.  After getting me checked in the first night, Ayesha had to leave town for a bit, but I’ve been looked after by two awesome guys who are really nice and cool as well.  I think it’s low season here, so there weren’t too many other people in the hotel while I was there.  They had some downtime now and again to sit around and chat with me, which was fun and interesting.  Occasionally we had to turn to Google translate for some assistance, but for the most part we got our points across and had some good disussions.

One of the guys, Jihad, likes to mix music, and actually has a channel on youtube that he (and I think one other guy) uploads songs onto, La Belle Musique.  During the day, when he has downtime, I get to hear him mixing songs and I usually really like his style.

I got some advice from Najib, the other guy, about how to get to Anglou Beach from Tiznit for my second day in town.  I’d walked around Tiznit a bit on my first day and seen some of the sights, and had heard from Issam that Anglou was also beautiful.  It wasn’t too far away and was accessible by bus or taxi.  So I spent the day there, enjoying myself on the beach, which was indeed lovely with beautiful rock formations that looked like they had been swept across the beach by the wind.

 

One night, I asked Najib for recommendations of places to go to eat.  He told me that the best place to eat in town was Riad Le Lieu.  I thought he was just talking up his hotel, or saying that because he should.  So I went out for pizza in town.  But the next night I made plans to eat at the Riad.  Jihad is the cook there.  I definitely should have eaten there every night.  He is an amazing cook!  The first thing he made for me was a crazy-beautiful goat cheese, tomato, and basil salad.  It was a work of art.  I couldn’t believe it – it was almost a shame to eat it, but I did my best!  I also had a boar tangine that night.  Yeah, wild boar.   It was good, made with prunes and raisins, the way I had enjoyed in Fes, however, he added apples….mmmm!

He offered me camel as well, which I decided to take him up on on my last day at the Riad.  I had planned to take a grande taxi to Legzira Beach, further south down the coast – almost to Sidi Ifni.  I had seen some pictures of the place after Isaam told me about it in Essaouira and realized I absolutely had to stay on the actual beach, so I booked a room in Legzira itself.  Since I was going to take a taxi, I wasn’t in a big hurry to leave, and I had internet at my hotel in Tiznit, so I wanted to wait a little for some news about how a family member’s surgery went before going.  After packing and working on the computer all morning, I told Jihad I would take him up on that camel he had offered me.  I’ve never tried camel meat – I don’t think I’d had wild boar before either, so this was all sorts of new stuff for my taste buds!    The camel meat was not bad, actually.  Kind of a mix between pork and beef, (with a dash of chicken flavour thrown in, ’cause just about everything tastes like chicken, right?)  He cooked it in a tangine the way I liked it (yay!), and the sweetness of the fruits really flavoured the meat nicely.  All in all, a delicious farewell meal.

Afterwards, I decided to get ready to head down to Legzira.  Najib and Jihad were aware of my plan to get a taxi.  They were so great – they offered me a ride to the taxi stand, just outside the kasbah, which I (with my luggage) gratefully accepted.  Then, when we got there, Jihad haggled with the taxi drivers for me, while Najib and I ran to an ATM.

The transport was kind of tricky for Jihad to set up, because the grande taxis run between the towns only along specified routes.  The hotel I was staying at on the beach in Legzira was off the route between the towns.  Often, the taxis stop along the way to let off or pick up passengers, but they don’t really go off the path at all.  We had tried to call the hotel and see if they could pick me up the few kilometers’ drive from the beach to the main road, but there was only one guy at the hotel, who couldn’t leave.  So Jihad arranged it for me to get a ride to Sidi Ifni and then get dropped off by the guy on his way back.  It was so great of him to arrange it.  I would have had a bit of difficulty doing that because of both the language barrier and the fact that the drivers would have tried to way overcharge me because I’m a foreigner.  I was so appreciative of both of the guys’ help.  They were great and really made my stay in Tiznit enjoyable.  I’m glad I stopped there.

And then I was off, one of 6 people plus a driver crammed into a grande taxi, headed for Legzira Beach by way of Sidi Ifni – the crowded, barely-room-to-breathe, slightly-out-of-the-way, scenic route, but cheaper than the bus!

 

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I Love Legzira Beach!

Jun 21, 2014 @ 1:12

I think I’m about to write an entire blog post about one single walk I took – and this may be composed of more photos than actual text, because I can’t choose only a couple!

I arrived at Legzira Beach and after checking into my hotel, which is nestled against the cliffs by the beach, and getting settled (in a lovely room with an ocean view and a large balcony I share with one other room), I immediately went outside to the beach and headed for the arches.  I’d seen a picture of them on the internet and had known I wanted to visit this place.  I’d also heard the arches were particularly nice at sunset and low tide – I had no idea of the treat I was about to experience.  This is now officially one of my favorite places in the world!

I couldn’t see the arches from the hotel, so after asking which direction to go, I headed south along the shore.  There are only about 4 hotels on the beach.  There is an injunction against building anymore on the actual shoreline now, so any new developments must be at the top of the cliffs, a good half kilometer up the mountainside from the beach.  Luckily, I had booked in a hotel located on the beach itself. The view was great, and even just walking along the shore was amazing.  There was an outcropping of rocks out a bit from the shoreline and I wondered if it would be accessible during low tide.  I wandered along, taking photos, and after passing my hotel and three others, I rounded a small curve of the shoreline and was presented with the sight of the first arch.

 

I walked under that arch and continued down the beach towards the next one.  The sun was beginning to descend and the light was playing with the rocks and water and everything was lighting up magnificently.  One part of this stretch of beach was covered with tiny pebbles.  As the waves washed up and over these rocks, pushing and pulling them along the sand and each other, it sounded as though mini-rainstorms were happening.  I tried to catch it on video.  The rock formations (not just the arches) were so beautiful all along the shore and out into the sea.

Approaching the third arch and looking back at the other two was absolutely spectacular, as they were lit up a reddish color in the setting sun.  The color reminded me of Red Rocks, or the Garden of the Gods, near my home in Colorado.

Once I got to the third arch, I realized it was almost like a cave, and had another little arch out into the ocean.  This little arch would only be fully accessible when the tide is completely out.  At that moment, the tide was down, but rising, and the waves were coming in the archway, along with the light from the setting sun.  It made for some spectacular photos.

The walk back was in no way anticlimactic, as the sunset continued to wow and amaze.  When I got back to the hotel, I popped next door to a restaurant where two really nice guys stayed open to cook me a delicious tangine and hung out and chatted with me (as I was their only customer at that hour).  I love this place.

 

 

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Leaping Legzira

Jun 22, 2014 @ 23:10

Today, I jumped off a cliff.  Twice.  So for all those of you who have wished I would “go jump off a cliff,” in the past, the good news is, your wish was granted.  The bad news is, I was attached to a dude with a parachute.  Also, bad news for you supposed ill-wisher, I had an amazing time!  It was absolutely incredible and fun.  I did it at Legzira Beach, in Morocco, over one of the arches, so it was also spectacularly beautiful and super-cool.

Here’s how it happened.  Yesterday at the fair in Sidi Ifni with my “hotel neighbors” Imat, Safiye, and their son Salman, we passed a booth advertising this (i’ll have to tell you about the fair later – this is too cool and I have to talk about it now!)  I actually don’t know what to call it, because it’s not parasailing, it’s not base-jumping, or hang-gliding, or cliff-diving – I guess it’s just parachuting.  Safiye had seen someone doing it at the beach that day and mentioned it would be fun to her husband, who took her seriously.  He went to the booth when he saw it, and when I realized he was seriously considering going the next day, I said I’d be interested too.  I’d already planned on extending my stay by another night in Legzira, having decided on my first night here that it is one of my new most favorite places in the world.  It’s incredibly beautiful here, and still rather isolated and undiscovered.  It’s not too touristy, yet….

So the plan was made.  The guys would contact us the next day to set up a time.  Today I got up and had breakfast and then went over an outcropping of rocks north of my hotel to the next beach.  At high tide, you have to climb up and jump down from the rocks to get to the beach, so it’s even less busy than the one I’m staying on.  I spent time there, in the sun and swimming and for a while, I was literally the only person on that stretch of beach.  Pretty cool.  I was dozing when I heard my name called and I looked up to see Imat’s head poking up over the rocks.  He indicated it was time to go flying, so I gathered my things and headed back to the hotel.  I met up with them and found out that Salman (their six-year-old) was going to jump too!

The guys took Salman up to a smaller mountaintop near our hotel and jumped with him first.  While we waited below, Safiye gave me a fruit to try called a Mirabelle.  It looked like a not-quite-ripe tomato, but it tasted like a mix between a plum and an apricot.  It was really good.  We cheered for Salman as he made his jump, and the second he landed, he told his mom he wanted to go again.  He also told her that it had been better than watching a movie.  The guy repacked the parachute and then we headed down the beach to the arch where Imat and I were going to jump.  We hiked up from the beach to the top of the arch and then got harnessed up and ready. (Getting ready video here.)

Now, I must admit to you that my first jump did not go entirely smoothly (video here).  The guy told me to put my hands somewhere and to not put my hands somewhere else and I didn’t really understand what was what (oh, language barriers and adventure sports!)  And when I asked what I should do in general the guys said “nothing.”

When the wind had caught the parachute and we made the running jump, I was hanging in the harness in front of my guy (I never did get his name), but I was definitely not sitting in the seat-thingy that is there!  He said something about putting my feet somewhere to push up, but from where I was hanging, I couldn’t really get my feet into the seat (and I wasn’t sure where I was actually allowed to grab for leverage).  I kicked around a bit, wiggled a bit, pointed my toes around like I was doing some sort of air ballet, but still, no luck.  Also, I had no idea what I was even aiming for cause I hadn’t really been looking at the rigging beforehand (which is why I didn’t know I was supposed to be in a seat in the first place).  So we took a few loops and came down kind of quickly.  I think he was a little nervous, even though I was pretty content, even while hanging rather than sitting because I was harnessed in and the view was incredible.  When we got to the ground, though, he said since I wasn’t in it right, we could go again.  I wasn’t going to argue about an extra parachute ride, so I said okay.

As we began our ascent back up the mountainside, I had a moment of doubt.  Was it really gong to be worth it to climb all the way up the side of this f–king cliff again?  The track was rocky and the dirt slid out under my feet in a multiple places.  My hand was already bleeding from a run-in with a cactus on the first ascent.  It was hot and I was thirsty and starting to get sunburned.  Maybe I should’ve just been happy with my one jump.  Then, as I mentally kicked myself in the ass and tried to get back in gear, I could see Imat having his turn.  They were going back and forth in front of the arch, flying on the breezes, I was surprised when I was halfway up the hill and they flew right over me.  Imat yelled down a greeting at me, clearly having a blast.  Wow, was it supposed to last that long normally?  I really did want to go again!  I picked up the pace and clambered back to the top of the cliff.

This time when we jumped, it was perfect.  I was in the seat almost from takeoff.  Once we had started, we sailed through the air,  back and forth – over the arch, out over the ocean, back across the beach, over the mountain, and back all over again.  I could see the crystal blue of the water, and the beach below.  I could see the other two arches on the beach beyond the first one we had leapt off.  It was incredible.  Definitely worth it.  Imat took some video for me (here).

By the time I made it back to the ground, little Salman had convinced his folks to let him jump from the arch too.  He is a little adrenaline-junkie in the making, I think!  I empathize completely.  That jump was the best thing ever!

And I think I’ll definitely stay here another day.  It’s too great here!

 

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Fantasia Fair

Jun 24, 2014 @ 17:09

In my last post, I mentioned going to a fair in the next town south of where I’m staying with my hotel “neighbors.”  I met Imat and Safiye, along with their son Salman and they told me that they were going to be visiting Sidi Ifni that afternoon because there was a large fair and exhibition going on this week.  They invited me to join them that afternoon.

One of the big things happening at the fair was a Fantasia.  This is a Moroccan tradition when a group of men ride on horseback together in a row.  They are armed and the goal is to shoot their guns off simultaneously as they are galloping down the field.  It’s actually much more difficult to do than it sounds.

Imat had a rental car.  He’s originally Moroccan and Safiye is from Turkey, but they both live in Germany now.  Their son is about six years old and speaks German, but is learning Arabic and Turkish and English.  Quite the accomplished little guy!  We drove from our hotel that afternoon over to Sidi Ifni, about 10 kilometers from Legzira.

When we arrived at the fair, we first went to a big exhibition hall where many booths were set up, kind of like at a county fair.  There were booths with local products, such as jam made from the cactus fruits that grow around here (I think they are called prickly pears in the US) or local honey.  We actually tried some beeswax at one booth.  You chew on it, like gum.  What surprised me was that this honey was spicy.   Really spicy!  Poor Salman’s tastebuds were clearly killing him after he’d been chewing for a while.  He was hopping up and down and sucking air in and out.  I offered him some water and he guzzled it down like a man dying of thirst.  I’ve never had spicy honey before either – it was crazy!  I asked the guy at the booth and he said something about the bees using bark or some sort of flowers from tree bark to make their honey, which gave it the spicy flavour.  My own mouth was on fire for quite a while!

Outside were booths with jewelry and local clothing, and homemade flatbread made in large ovens.  This was also where we found the booth for the parachuting off the Legzira Arch.  In a separate area than the exhibition tents were different carnival rides set up for children.  Salman had a great time riding the bumper cars for a little while.  There was also a flea market-type area set up with booth upon booth of stuff.

We went around a field near the fair to where a bunch of horsemen were preparing their animals for the Fantasia, which would start later that afternoon.  After a while, the Fantasia began and it was very interesting watching the guys try to coordinate the galloping and shooting.  It didn’t always work, and occasionally a gun or a guy would go flying….

That night, after the fair, we went back to our hotel for dinner.  We had fish – whole fresh fish, cooked to perfection.  They had, oddly, enough, full sets of teeth.   Also, Imat had gotten some prickly pears to eat and urged me to try them.  This was my first time having any of these.  They were quite tasty!

Overall, I had a fantastic time in Legzira.  Sadly, I doubt that it’ll be the same when I come back (and I definitely want to come back!)  This is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been in my life, and the fact that it’s so isolated and has so few visitors is one of the things that makes it so special.  Even though there are restrictions on building on the beach itself, there are more resorts going up on the cliff, and a place this wonderful isn’t exactly a secret.  I fear that before long this will be more touristy and have a lot more traffic.  It may not be quite the hidden paradise that it is now.

Nevertheless, I’ll come again to this beautiful beach and watch the sunsets under these gorgeous arches….someday.  Hopefully, it will retain the charm and stunning beauty that make it so amazing.

 

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Journey to Desert’s Edge

Jun 27, 2014 @ 9:15

After leaving Legzira, I spent one night in a town called Taroudant. I stayed in a nice little riad, but was only in the town for a very short time, so although I walked around in the Kasbah a bit, I didn’t really go to any specific locations or see anything that was particularly notable.  There was a quite nice garden on top of the riad, however, and when I looked over the walls, I could see into some rather rundown areas of the town.

I’ve noticed the rooftops of the cities here in Morocco are liberally coated with satellite dishes.  I may have mentioned this before, but it’s quite interesting to see that even in the poorer parts of town, there is still no shortage of satellite tv and internet access.  While wireless hasn’t quite become commonplace here yet, internet access certainly has.

I made the decision to go out to the edge of the Sahara Desert, as I have been told by many people that this is amn experience not to be missed while I’m here in Morocco, so I began the journey there from Taroudant via Ouarzazate.  I stayed in a little hotel right near the bus station, called Hotel Baba, for the night in Ouarzazate.  It was a pretty great place, and the guy working at the front desk was really nice about giving me information about the town and how to get around, where to go for dinner, etc.  Ouarzazate is rather famous for its movie industry, actually, and has a film studio/museum located just outside of town.  There is a city right nearby that I would like to try and visit on my way back through called Ait Ben Haddou.  I didn’t have time to go now since I only stayed one night, but it’s a UNESCO site and was used for filming many movies, including Lawrence of Arabia, as it has been preserved as it was originally built.

The guy at the front desk at Hotel Baba had given me great instructions on how to take the bus from Ouarzazate to M’Hamid.  This is the town where I had booked my few days’ stay on the edge of the Sahara.  To get there, I had a couple of options but the easiest was to get a bus that went all the way to M’Hamid via Zagora and Tagounite.

My hotel is a “resort” called Hamada du Draa, located literally on the edge of the Sahara desert.  It’s a walled compound with many individual rooms shaped like nomadic tents of the type the Saharaoui people live in in the desert (only with ensuite bathrooms).  I booked one, as the room rates were relatively low.  I guess this is the off-season, as it’s getting rather hot now, with the summer approaching.  There’s also a nice swimming pool where you can look out at the desert (pretty nice in this increasing heat), and usually people who stay there book either a camel tour or four-wheel drive tour out into the desert where they stay for a night in a tent at some dunes.  Apparently, it’s all part and parcel of the desert experience which is not to be missed….

Anyway, I left from my hotel in Ouarzazate and walked to the bus station, where I managed to get a ticket on the bus through to M’Hamid.  I got onto the bus, but it didn’t leave.  It seemed there was a problem with the actual bus itself.  We sat for a while, and then got out for a bit, as it was getting quite warm in the bus.  I sort of befriended a girl there, who didn’t really speak any English (or French, really) and we went to get some water and use the facilities.  When we returned, some guys were elbow-deep in the engine of the bus – it didn’t look like we’d be going anywhere anytime soon.

After a couple more hours in the sweltering bus, another bus arrived and they put all of the passengers from the broken one onto the new one and we were off.  I was hopeful that it would get me where I wanted to go, but honestly, I wasn’t sure that it would.  I asked someone about Zagora (the only name I could remember at that point), and got a nod.  After a some hours, we arrived in a town, which was Zagora, and everyone got off the bus.  I didn’t because I was supposed to continue on to M’Hamid via Tagounite.  At worst, I thought I might have to get a taxi from Tagounite.  However, some guy got on the bus and told me to get off, saying that this was as far as this bus was supposed to go.

I said I’d paid to go all the way to M’Hamid.  He called a petite taxi driver over and spoke with him.  Then he indicated to me that I should get in it.  I asked how much it would cost, since I’d paid to go to the next town.  He gave me some money.  Mollified, I got into the cab, thinking I’d be taken to my destination.  Then, the guy drove me across town to the grande taxi station.  I asked him when we got there if he’d been paid, because I now realized I had to get into a grande taxi to go to the next town.  He held out his hand, and I gave him the money.  Then, when I arranged the grande taxi, they asked for the exact amount I had just given the petite taxi driver, the swindling bastard!  I’m sure the bus station guy had already paid him, had actually thought I’d seen money pass between their hands at the bus station, in fact, but foolishly didn’t question it when he asked for the fare.  So I had to pay for the grande taxi to M’Hamid myself.  (Don’t get me wrong, it was only a couple of dollars, but it was the principle of the thing, and I was rather pissed off.)  I then had to wait until the taxi was full before we could leave, cause that’s the way grande taxis work in Morocco.

Finally, there were enough people to go and we headed towards M’Hamid.   Of course, I finally eventually realized that this first grande taxi was only going to take me to Tagounite.  Then, I’d still have to get (and pay for) the grande taxi to M’Hamid, a few more kilometers down the road.  Ah, the joys of travel where you don’t speak a word of the language.  By then, I was only a couple hours later than I’d been planning….

The owner of the resort, Hassan, had been supposed to meet me at the bus station to take me to the hotel, but I assumed that when the bus didn’t come at all, he’d get the idea I’d be late – I didn’t have any service on my phone out there between towns, but I sent him an email along the way to let him know I was running late and would be arriving by taxi.

When I arrived (finally) in M’Hamid, a guy in Berber clothing (robe and turban) was waiting for me at the station.  He told me that Hassan had gone to watch a football match (it’s world cup playoff time) and so he took me through the town square and across the river (or, rather, dry riverbed) to the hotel, leaving my luggage to be brought by someone else in a car after a little bit.  It was close to town and it was really nice to stretch my legs after such a long time cramped in the bus and taxis.  His name was Omar, and he works at the resort as the chef and I’m not sure what else.

At the resort, Omar gave me a tour and some mint tea (naturally) and then cooked me an egg tangine for dinner.  It was delicious!  After a little while, Hassan came home and checked to make sure I was settled in.  After a little bit, I turned in – I’d had a rather exhausting day.

My little hut is great.  It turns out that I am currently the only person at the entire resort.  They may be expecting someone else this week, but for now, I have the whole place to myself!  Pretty nice.  I’ll talk to Hassan today about booking some sort of desert expedition.  But first, they’re going to serve me breakfast under the dining tent.

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The Dunes in the Desert

Jun 28, 2014 @ 21:19

So I decided to go on a trip into the desert by safari Jeep.  I didn’t want to go by camel because I’ve ridden a camel before (most recently in Dubai).  It’s hot here in the desert, and I have no desire to travel in a ridiculously slow manner with a rather smelly animal radiating extra heat from below me.  I’d rather go ain a vehicle that moves much faster, may (if I turn out to be lucky) have air conditioning and where I will at least be able to lower the windows and get a breeze.  Also, it will shorten the amount of travel time needed to get out to the dunes.

So the plan was to leave in the afternoon and have a driver to take me out to the Erg de Chegaga Dunes, in the Sahara desert, near at the border of Algeria (but not too near, as the countries don’t really get along, to put it mildly).  Apparently the dunes are quite gorgeous and Hassan (the owner of the resort I’m staying at) also has a camp out near the dunes where I’ll stay the night in a tent before retuning in the morning.  Omar (the guy who works here at the camp) will come too.  He is nice, and says it’s partly to help translate, because the driver, Muhamed doesn’t speak much English, and partly to give me company.  Also, I think he has to run some errand or take care of some business out at the camp for Hassan.  So it works out for everyone.

 

***later***

 

We left as planned in the afternoon and headed out towards the desert.  Since M’Hamid is literally on the “shores of the desert”, it wasn’t too long before we were tooling along in the desert.  I was surprised because it wasn’t all sand, as I had imagined.  In fact, there were many bushes and plants scattered about.  Also , there were rocks, not continuous, undulating dunes as I’d expected.  Clearly, not all deserts are the same!

Along the way, there were quite a few things that were interesting, and Omar acted as my guide, telling me all sorts of fascinating facts and pointing stuff out.  I was able to see a mirage (where it looks like there’s water, but isn’t) and some whirlwinds, where there are swirling tornadoes of wind going across the desert.  Those were super-cool and I tried to catch them on video, but don’t think I had so much luck.

There were some plants Omar pointed out that have poisonous liquid in them if you touch it, but which is helpful for other medicinal usess, and fossils in rocks.  He knew the names of most of the plants.   All in all, it was a cool trip into the desert.  I was only a little bummed that we weren’t really able to “dune bash” as I had done in Dubai, where you go up and down the dunes as hard and fast as possible, sliding up and down the sand, as though your car is some sort of sled or ski.  But I could see how difficult it was to drive in this desert, and how easily one could get the car stuck and not get out for quite some time.  We weren’t traveling in a caravan like we had in Dubai, either.  I was impressed at how Mohammed handled the car and DIDN’T get us stuck, although there was a moment where I could see how easily one could end up that way and it would be quite a hot, dry walk before help would be reached!

At one point, as we approached a small well in the middle of nowhere, we saw that there were three wild donkeys standing near it.  Suddenly, Mohammed pulled over, and he and Omar got out of the car.   They told me that the donkeys were waiting by the well for some people to come by and give them water.  Apparently, wild donkeys come to the wells in the desert when they are thirsty and if there isn’t any water in the trenches there, they’ll hang out until some kind person comes by and draws up some water for them.  And according to the guys, it is just the common custom for people to do this!  Fascinating.  The donkeys were hilarious too, eager for the water, but slightly sktittish around the people.  I loved watching the scene play out – check it out.  We also would randomly see wild camels walking around, as well as “free range” ones, who would go out during the day and back to their oasis homes at night.

On the way to the dunes, we stopped at the camp where we’d be spending the night and picked up a bunch of empty water jugs.  Then we went to the nearby oasis to fill up all the water containers. There’s a young guy who lives at the camp all the time as caretaker and chef for the clients who come, and he needed supplies replenished, as well as the water brought.   While we were at the oasis, Omar bade me wash my face and drink from the oasis well, saying it was good luck.  There were some women at the well, filling their water jugs while we were there.  It was neat to see.

Then we continued on to the dunes, stopping at a small house in the desert on the way for some ubiquitous tea beforehand.  We arrived at the big dunes of Chegaga in time to hike up a bit to watch the sunset from the top of a dune.  It was spectacular!   We could see forever, it seemed.  All the way to Algeria, actually, Omar said.  We saw some camels returning to their camps for dinner and bed.  Sounded like a good plan, so…

We returned to our camp, where the resident guy had cooked us a delicious dinner.  Omar joined me and we ate under the stars.  Then we watched the sky for a while.  Because there was so little light pollution, the sky was brilliant with stars.  I literally saw more than a dozen shooting stars before I stopped counting.  It was incredible.

In the morning, they served me another delicious Moroccan breakfast before driving back to the camp.  I chilled out in my room for most of the day after that.  I am tired and it is hot here!  But I definitely enjoyed my desert expedition!

 

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Ramadan Moon Rising

Jul 1, 2014 @ 2:19

The day after I returned from the desert, Hassan invited me to join him and his family at their house in the evening, to celebrate the beginning of Ramadan.  I hadn’t really intended to still be in Morocco when Ramadan began, as I have been hearing horror stories about everything shutting down during the day and it not being very welcoming for tourists during this time.  Ramadan is a big festival for Muslims during which they fast from sunup to sundown.  However, at sundown, they break their fast with a big meal en famille.  Somehow, the beginning of Ramadan is tied in with the moon, and the day it starts changes each year.  This year, it begins on the night of the 29th of June.

I’ve been working on booking a ticket to leave Morocco, but clearly I won’t be leaving within the next day or two, especially since I still want to go to Marrakech.  So I thought it would be quite interesting to see this side of both Morocco and Islam.  I was especially interested because I realized that most of the time I’ve been here in Morocco, I’ve interacted with men.  One time in Fes, Maia and I had tried to go to the home of some women to have a meal with them, but there were some issues with permissions, something about us being on a tour and them not being allowed to invite us to their house since it wasn’t part of the tour….  We had really wanted to go, since we had heard about some sort of female co-op and wanted to see how that worked, but – no such luck.  Anyway, I thought it would be great to get to spend a little time with some women in their home environment.  I was looking forward to meeting Hassan’s wife and kids.

He came in the afternoon to pick me up and took me in his SUV to his home after driving around the town for a mini-tour.   Since sunset hadn’t happened yet, the entire town was empty, almost like a ghost town.  It was crazy!

Hassan had brought his young son, Abdul with him.  He was probably about 3 years old.  He also had a daughter of about 8.  Hassan’s wife Maryem had spent the day cooking, along with her sister-in-law.  His mother was also there for the meal.  His brother- and sister-in-law had two daughters somewhere between the ages of his two kids.

The house was built around a large courtyard which had several camels and many goats in it.  I guess they use the camels for the desert expeditions.  Since one of the world cup matches was going on, Hassan kind of tuned into that once we got to the house, so I was left to befriend the women on my own (or watch the game, and I quickly lost patience with that and thought I maybe could help prepare the meal).  Unfortunately, they don’t speak any English, and I don’t speak any Arabic.  They speak a tiny bit of French, but that doesn’t really help me.  I used my phone for Google Translate a little bit, but my battery died after only a few things were said.  We communicated with a bunch of hand gestures and some general symbols.   The ladies were very excited that I was an Indian.  Indian music and movies are very popular in Morocco.  They wanted me to return the next night, and to wear my sari.  They were really hoping that I would teach them how to tie a sari, as well.  Moroccan women wear clothing that is very similar to a sari in that it is a long piece of material which they wrap around over their other clothing, and use to cover their heads.

I wasn’t sure if I would be there or not the next day, but I said I would try.  Since I’ve been planning to go to Marrakech soon, and didn’t want to stay too much longer in M’Hamid, I had only booked through until the next day at the resort.  I had been working on booking a ticket to leave Morocco earlier that day.  On the way back to the resort, Hassan told me that he and his wife and kids would be going to Marrakech by car the day after tomorrow and that I could catch a ride with them, if I liked.  That actually sounded great (especially considering the disaster of a time I’d had trying to get to M’Hamid in the first place).  So I agreed to stay another day and planned to go to their house one more evening for “break fast.”  Plus, I was looking forward to spending more time with Maryem and her sister-in-law.  Towards the end of the evening, I had also met Hassan’s sister and her daughter as well.  Her son was Mohammed, who had been my driver out into the desert.  They lived in the house across the compound from Hassan.  Hassan’s niece and I were even able to communicate a little bit, as she spoke a small amount of English.

The next day was as hot as the day before had been.  The summer has definitely arrived in the desert! It was 45 degrees, easy, during the day.  It certainly made it easy to do not much during the day, as most people do during Ramadan.

Near sunset, Hassan came again to collect me.  This time, I had donned my sari.  The ladies were all pretty happy to see it.  That evening, I was able to spend more time talking to Maryem (and had more battery on my phone, too!)  Also, I spoke for a while with Hassan’s niece, and went to her home for a bit while she was cooking for the night meal.  During Ramadan, people wake up before dawn and eat as well, before returning to bed and resting during the day.

The food at the Ramadan meals was so good!  We had hariria the first night, which was probably the best I’d had since I’ve come to Morocco.  Hassan’s sister-in-law made it.  It’s the traditional soup of Ramadan, and is quite filling and delicious.  Also, they’d made these delicious buttery crepe-type things which I loved.  The second night we had a porridge for the soup dish which reminded of cream-of-wheat.  I love that too, so I was pretty happy.  Always present at the meals are fresh dates as they are in season and also a traditional Ramadan food.

I enjoyed my time with the family.  It was good to get to speak to some women in their homes where they were freer and able to talk and laugh a little.  I also got to observe several times the high art of making tea.  The ladies would make it over a coal fire and used a hand pump fan to stoke the fire.   Quite a fascinating ritual.  After the meal and ritual tea, however, I begged a ride back to the hotel, as I had to leave the next day.

Although Hassan had said he and his family were going to Marrakech the next day, it had become apparent that they were not going to be leaving then.  In fact, I wasn’t sure when they would leave.  They’d said some things about me staying longer, or staying with them, and I wasn’t super-comfortable staying there any longer.  Plus, I’ve booked a flight to the Canary Islands on July 6^th and I want to have time to see Marrakech before leaving the country.  I’m running out of time to do that.  Also, if I leave on my own, I can stop in Ouarzazate on my way to Marrakech and see Ait Ben Haddou, like I had hoped.

So Omar helped me arrange a taxi to take me to the next big town where I can get a bus to Ouarzazate.  Because it’s Ramadan, it wasn’t the easiest feat, but he found someone who was willing to drive during the day and I bid a sad goodbye to Hamada du Draa and the Sahara and went back towards Zagora.  Of course, as luck would have it, when I arrived there, I found the bus stop closed until the evening, because of Ramadan.

I had the taxi driver leave me there with my stuff, nonetheless, knowing there would be a bus in the direction I was heading after the bus station opened.  So I settled down to wait.  As I sat, a nice young lady waiting nearby shared her break fast with me as Ramadan came to an end.  We sat in companionable silence, listening to the call to prayers finish and eating together.

Then, a young, rather familiar-looking guy passed by.  He stopped and asked me if I had been staying in M’Hamid.  It turned out that he had been one of the local guys from town who had come to use the swimming pool during the time I was at Hamada du Draa.  His name was Larbi and he was heading back to Marrakech where he worked after having visited his family.  We sat by each other on the bus and it was nice to have someone to talk to.  His English was great; he said he worked in Marrakech for a tour company.  We exchanged numbers and may meet up when I go there.  It’s always nice to have a friendly face in a new town.

In the meantime, I got off the bus in Ouarzazate, where I hope to have the chance to see some of the town and take a side trip to see Ait Ben Haddou, the UNESCO city before going on to Marrakech to finish up my time in Morocco.

 

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