I lucked out because the King of Morocco (Muhammad VI) decided to stay home, therefore allowing Christen and I to see three Moroccan cities this past weekend. The weekend Corrie decided to visit Morocco the King of Morocco decided to visit as well therefore making her company cancel the trip. As an alternative the company in which Corrie booked her trip offered her a semi-private tour of one city in Morocco instead of the three she had hoped to see. Such is life.
Well Christen and I had a lovely trip to Morocco. On Friday morning we caught the direct bus from Valverde to Seville and then wasted the day shopping and walking around the town before having to meet our tour group at 3pm. We decided to escape the heat for a little and check out Corte Ingles. We were floored when we discovered the vast variety of food offered there. We found an entire row dedicated to “foreign food”, aka Chinese and Mexican foods and condiments. We were so happy to find actual tortilla chips and actual salsa that we jumped for joy (no seriously we jumped) and ate only that for lunch. As we discovered more and more things that we were desperately lacking in our town the more upset we got. If only we had lived in a city… After Corte Ingles we ate our chips and salsa in a park and talked for a few hours before heading to the Tower of Gold, our meeting point for our tour.
We got on the bus and drove about an hour and a half to Algerias where we would take the fast ferry to Ceuta, the autonomous Spanish community in Morocco. The ferry is spacious and comfortable. It wasn’t at all what I expected. It was cool because it also carried cargo like cars and buses over to Ceuta as well as people. Once in Ceuta we met our guide for the remainder of the trip, Muhammad (the first of many…) and got on a new bus that would take us to our hotel. However, we had to pass through the border first and that took as hour and a half. Muhammad told us that passports are easy, they just stamp it and you’re done, it’s the people who have NIE cards as a means of ID that hold up the rest of us. Silly European Union. I was just glad to have another stamp in my passport. We were all very hungry by the time we arrived to our hotel so we quickly put our things down in our room and went down to dinner.
In order to save space the waiters combined each table with different couples from the group. This was a forced way of meeting people from our group. For the first dinner we were paired with an older couple from Wales. They were very nice and we had polite conversation throughout the meal. The meal on the other hand wasn’t anything special. Our starter was a vegetable soup followed by chicken with vegetables and ended with flan. Unfortunately for Christen, the waiter forgot to bring her the vegetarian dish so she had to eat all of my olives while we waited for her fried fish dish to arrive. Neither of us ate that much that night. After dinner we headed to bed. We watched a little of Terminator 3 in ENGLISH before going to bed, well at least I went to bed. Christen couldn’t fall asleep because the hotel was hosting a very loud wedding reception and they were up dancing and singing very loudly until 4am.
The next morning we were paired for breakfast with two girls traveling together. They had both come all the way from Madrid for this trip. They were au pairs, one from Austria and the other from Germany. The girl from Austria was shocked that we knew Austria was a country let alone had visited it. She said most Americans she meets think she’s either from Germany based on her accent or from Australia because Austria isn’t a REAL country. I’ll just move past that with a comment… Now we were on the way to the New city of Tectuan. Muhammad told us that the city color of Tectuan was white and they were known for their wool and goat cheese. When we got off the bus another Muhammad joined us on the tour to make sure no one got lost. It was so interesting just walking through the tiny curvy streets. Most stands had blue bags full of different kinds of beans, nuts, dates and figs. The smells of the market were for the most part good. We made our way through five different markets: the fish market, the spice market, the clothes market, the carpet market, and the women’s market but that doesn’t mean the women are for sale.
Muhammad did a great job of stopping through out the tour and telling us all about the culture here. I learned a lot and while I did bring my little journal to write things down I still ended up forgetting a lot of what he taught us. One thing he told us was that the people here shop at the markets everyday. Unlike in the US or even in Spain, people don’t do one big shop for the whole week; instead they buy just what they need for the day. That means that the markets have to be open everyday, even Sunday’s. I thought it was interesting that the goat cheese is prepared daily and must be eaten the same day you buy it or else it goes bad. I wanted to sample just a bite of the cheese to see if it tasted different from the goat cheese I get in the supermarket but I didn’t get the chance to stop. In Morocco there are two types of robes: one is a plain robe with a hood that either a man or a woman can wear while the second is a pattern or embroidered robe that don’t have a hood but are made only for women. For the men they wear “air conditioning pants” or shear white gaucho type pants in order to get some ventilation going down there. They people pray 5 times a day to Mecca and also have to bathe themselves. If they want to use the public baths the women have to pay 1 Moroccan Durum while the men only have to pay 50 cents. The reason for this is because women take longer to bathe and use more water in order to bath all of their hair so they have to pay more. Oh an important tidbit Muhammad mentioned was that if you see someone waving at you he or she is not saying hello they are waving to say that they do not want their picture taken. I tried my best not to take pictures of people because I wanted to respect their culture.
After wondering through the different markets it was time for the Berba Pharmacy aka Herbaria. This was by far my favorite part of the trip. It was so cool because the walls were lined with hundreds of herbs and spices in their natural form. We had another guide named Muhammad explain EVERYTHING to us. He transitioned seamlessly from Spanish to English to French and if we really wanted Arabic as well. He never paused between languages so sometimes I couldn’t follow when he had stopped talking in English and had moved on to another language. While Muhammad talked about the individual item in his hand his assistant would come around to each person and let us sniff or sample the product. For the very first herb, eucalyptus, the assistant wrapped it in a shear cloth and when he came around he stuck the cloth right up to each person’s nose and using the other hand put his finger on one nostril and then the other so we would sort the eucalyptus up each nostril. Was it entirely sanitary, no but it was really funny. I forget what the medicinal purpose of eucalyptus was but if must have been something that everyone would greatly benefit from because that was the only herb that was forcefully sniffed in each nostril. After that the assistant would bring around a jar of the item and we would just get a single whiff. Sometimes we sampled the products, like with the magic lipstick. This lipstick looked green but when you put it on it turned any shade of pink or red. The hotter you were the brighter the shade. I wasn’t sure if they meant hot as in body temperature or hot as in attractiveness. I’m pretty sure it was body temperature that chanced the lipstick but it was advertised as attractiveness. We only got one swipe of the lipstick on the palms of our hands. None of us realized just how lasting the lipstick was until one girl bought it and put it on her lips. She didn’t put it on very well because she didn’t have a mirror but when she tried to correct her mistakes and whip it off it did not come off. She had to go around the rest of the day with sloppily put on fuscia lipstick. I felt really bad for her. In total I think I sniffed over 7 different herbs and spices and tried rose cream and rose perfume.
After the demonstrations were over Muhammad quickly listed the prices of each item and its quantity. Thinking we would have the chance to revisit the herbs and have time to think about what to purchase I didn’t pay much attention to the prices the first time. After he went through every item it was AUCTION TIME. It was just like those auctions that rich people go to and have to put up their paddle really quick to make a bid because the man talks so fast. Not only did I not get a chance to re-smell anything, the very first item he started with was the one thing I was debating over buying. I was flustered and under pressure so when Christen turned to me and said “you want it?” I just blurted sure. She shot her hand up and said 3 (you can buy 2 for 10 Euros and get the third for free). We were the first people to start off the bidding and after us everyone followed suit. It was pure chaos after that but also kind of exciting. When you purchased something you were given the product in a woven basket and you paid for it after all the items were mentioned.
We worked up an appetite after all that excitement so Muhammad (our actual tour guide. I know it’s hard to keep them all straight) took us to a little shop and handed out freshly baked loafs of circle bread. We split one loaf between four people. The bread didn’t have much of a taste besides that or corm meal. We walked around for a little more and then it was finally time for lunch. We ate in this amazing building. It use to be two palaces build for the previous owners two children, a boy and a girl. When the new owner bought it he tore down the wall that separated the two and converted it into this beautiful restaurant. This meal we sat with two adult couples from Granada (only spoke Spanish), two girls from Holland but are studying abroad in Seville, and two lady friends: one from Canada and the other from England but has lived in Malaga for 15 years now. It was quite a diverse table but it made for some interesting conversations. For starters once again we had a hearty vegetable soup that was followed by this enormous platter of fresh vegetables and rice. It wouldn’t have eaten a lot more but I knew we were suppose to get couscous and I know how filling couscous is so I only had one helping of the veggies. As I expected next they brought out this huge plate covered by a strange shaped triangular looking lid. Of course it was the couscous. However this couscous was cooked with lamb so once again Christen had to wait for her personalized vegetarian meal that they once again forgot to bring until we had all finished eating. We had some time before they served desert, so some of the girls got henna tattoos on their arms or looked for postcards in the little kiosk. Christen had to shuffle down her vegetarian couscous and giant omelet in 5 minutes because now they were serving desert, and when I say desert I mean tea and cookies. They served us the traditional mint tea of Morocco and shortbread cookies. It was heavenly and again I would have had more but we were rushed out of the door shortly after they brought the tea.
After lunch we headed to what I like to call Carpet World. It was this giant room lined with carpets of every size. Once again we got a demonstration of all the kinds of carpets from Muhammad. He told us how every carpet was handmade in this town with wool or silk and took anywhere from 6 months to make to a year and half depending upon the size and detail of the carpet. Some were reversible and all were fireproof and stain proof. Muhammad then proceeded to whip out his lighter and try to burn each carpet in order to get his point across. Christen and I was warned about the carpet salesmen in Morocco. People told us how relentless they were to make a sell and how they wouldn’t let you leave until you’ve purchased something. Well as nice as the carpets were, and they were beautiful, they were not going to fit in my luggage back to the states and I wouldn’t have a place to put it. After the Muhammad finished his demonstration, as if from thin air 10 salesmen pop out from behind the columns and beeline straight for the older couples of the group. It was quite comical how the salesmen ignored the younger people of the group but they’ve been around the business long enough to know what customers to hassle. Once Christen and I realized we weren’t going to be targets we tiptoed ourselves out of the room and into the street, followed shortly by an American couple. They too had been warned and needed to escape before they were targeted.
Fifteen minutes later and no carpets sold (not sure how they managed that?). It was now time to walk back to the bus and drive to Tangier, the northern capital of Morocco. The southern capital of Morocco is Rabat which is the also the actual capital of the entire country. Rabat’s city color is green whereas Fez’s city color is red. Muhammad never told us the city color of Tangier but after visiting it, it doesn’t seem like they have one. We arrived in Tangier about an hour and a half later. We put our things in our room and then had and hour and 45 minutes to walk around the city on our own. Being the expert travelers that we are we were not intimidated by the mass amount of people walking the sidewalks or about getting lost in the winding market. To be frank, the scariest part of Tangier was crossing the road. I would compare it to the video game Frogger. In Frogger you are a frog that has to cross a highway without getting run over. I was rather disappointed with Tangier. I did not see anyone running and jumping across rooftops, men flying through closed windows, or people driving mopeds all around. The Tangier I saw was nothing like this. Thank you Born Identity for setting me up for disappointment. We walked through the market of Tangier but it was nowhere near as impressive as the one in Tectuan. However I was really in the mood to buy a bootleg DVD and there was no shortage of that.
It was now time for dinner, which meant deciding whom to sit with. Christen and I were both in agreement that we enjoyed the company of the older people of the group then the people more our age (more stimulating conversation) so we ate with the American couple that we had gotten to know and the Welsh couple. Surprise, surprise the first course was a vegetable soup, which I never got. The service was really bad and the waitresses had no idea who had gotten what and at what tables. After soup we had Morocco’s version of Fish n Chips. I only ate the chips. The desert was cake, which I ate greedily since I was hungry and only ate a few French fries for my dinner. I didn’t really mind the food so much because I was enjoying talking to our tablemates. Christen and I shared our stories about teaching in Spain ad how it compares to American schools and other Spanish cultural differences. Somehow we got on the track of sports and I talked about the lack of opportunities for women or girls in Spain when it comes to sports. This progressed into me talking about how much I like soccer. When the Welsh gentlemen heard I like soccer he asked if I meant futbol and when I said of course I love it he said, “Then why didn’t I marry you?” hahaha Lucky for him his wife didn’t hear that remark.
We could have stayed and talked for a few more hours but it was now time to go to the “very interesting Moroccan traditional show featuring 7 or 8 different folk acts from around the region of Tangier”. I didn’t really want to pay to see the show but Christen insisted we give it a shot, what else would we do that night she said. We got to this dark nightclub type place with neon colored dance floor in the center surrounded by tables and cushioned seats in the shape of a U. At the far end was a stage with a keyboard and drums. It reminded me of the kind of place a thug from the Born movies would hang out in Morocco watching belly dancers while he waited to get a call from his boss that he had a job. That’s just the vibe I got from it. The musicians came out and started playing Moroccan sounding music. I really liked the music and I could have listened to that the whole time and would have enjoyed myself but sadly that wasn’t the main attraction. Next we got to watch 6 or 7 unimpressive “acts”. The first was two boys who swung this tassel thing around on their head as they beat sticks together and jumped. It made me dizzy watching their heads spin. Next we had “the sexy belly dancer” that of course picked the sleazy old guy of the group to come out and dance with her. After that we had two little girls do some very flexible things with their bodies. I give them some credit, the stuff they did was difficult but nothing compared to the acrobatics of lets say Circus Ole. What followed next I don’t even want to describe but I guess I will for your benefit. A group of ladies dressed in white see-through gowns came out and did what I would call a sashay across the floor a few times while chanting something in Arabic. Not only was it unimpressive, but also the women looked bored, they were sloppily dressed and they seem to be improvising on the spot making the dance look really disorganized. They tried to make the act more entertaining by grabbing people from our group to dance with them but even that was unplanned and lame. I really wanted to shut my eyes it was so bad. The American couple we sat with at dinner left after that act. I didn’t blame them, I wanted to leave too but I was the farthest from the door. This was honestly the first time in all my travels that I got sucked into an honest-to-god crappy tourist trap. I had done so well to avoid them in the past and my instincts were right about this from the beginning but I suffered through it in the end. I think three more “acts” followed and then it was finally over. I was mad but only internally; I kind of shrugged it off as we quickly exited the club, just another story to tell. As we walked up the stairs to our room I demonstrated to Christen some of the moves I had learned from Zumba class because I found that 10 times more entertaining that the crap the ladies in white did. Some of the people from our group saw me dancing and started clapping for me. They had the luxury of watching me perform for free :)
The next morning we were up at 6am in order to get breakfast and then drive the two or so hours to Chefchaouen. I’m a morning person so I enjoyed the scenery and took pictures from the bus while Christen slept. She can be kind of grouchy when she’s, A) sleep deprived B) bumped into C) forced to do something she find stupid or D) hungry. Other than that she’s a peach ;) I was just about to nod off myself on the bus when the two gentlemen behind me shouted “NO!” all of a sudden. I quickly looked out the window and noticed the bus swerve a little to avoid running over a dog. Hahah as if there aren’t enough stray dogs living in Morocco as it is. Before actually arriving in Chefchaouen we stopped at Grotto de Hercules. It was hear that people were able to ride a camel in a circle for a minute. I already rode a camel in Israel so I was good, plus I don’t see the point if there isn’t a desert involved. After that we walked down some stairs into the cave where we met a man who described the significance of the cave to us. For some reason I didn’t feel like paying attention so I couldn’t really tell you what the big deal with the Grotto was but I can tell you that there is this lookout from inside the cave to the water of the Mediterranean that is shaped like Africa. If you take a picture of it, flip it over and look at it through a light you’ll see the clear outline of Africa including a small hole that is suppose to be Madagascar. That I found impressive considering it was man-made.
An hour or so later and we finally arrived to our destination, the last city of the tour and most quaint of them all: Chefchaouen (Chef for short since it’s so dang hard to spell). Chef ‘s city colors are white and blue (as if that isn’t evident enough once you look at my pictures) and they are also known for their wool. In Chef we met our adorable guide Ahmet (no, not Muhammad!) who took us all around the city. I was too busy trying to create artistic pictures that I didn’t really listen to the history of the city all that much, sorry. We spent a good few hours meandering around the narrow streets of Chef taking pictures and admiring the scenic view of the mountains that sandwiched Chef. Like in Tectuan, Ahmet offered the group freshly baked circle bread halfway through the tour. This time the bread had a grainy taste to it, like it was a whole grain loaf and the other was a corn meal loaf. At the end of the tour Ahmet lead us to a market to buy cheap stuff. Many of my friends had been to Morocco before me and they told me that they came home with at least 3 scarfs and tons of jewelry since everything was so cheap. The market I saw didn’t have much to offer. I only saw one pattern of scarfs and they weren’t anything special. I did end up buying a pair of earrings but I’m fairly certain I got gypped on my change. I hate to say it but I was again really let down by the market. After the market we had our last Moroccan meal of the trip. Can you guess what the starter was? Actually it was an individual plate of cold veggies in vinaigrette. I know I set you up for that one hehe. After the veggies we had lamb stew and then individual fruit bowls for dessert. It was a lovely last meal. This time we sat at a long rectangular table with four 18-year-old study abroad Americans, the two girls from Holland, and the two au pairs. We had a little more free time after lunch so Christen and I tried to find good postcards but it was slim pickings. Chef really blew it, I was planning on spending a lot of money there and they really dropped the ball.
We said goodbye to Ahmet and departed from Chef at 2:30. Now we had to endure the long bus ride back to Ceuta to catch the 6:30p ferry boat back to Spain. As before I stayed awake and admired the Moroccan scenery while my companion attempted to sleep. What surprised me the most about Morocco was not the stray cats everywhere, the persistent salesmen, or the begging children it was the lush green rolling hills. I guess I just imaged that the land between the cities and villages would be arid and desert like but it was anything but that. Most of the time while I was sitting on the bus I would think to myself if I started walking straight from this point how far could I get in a day? Could I cross three hills or climb that small mountain? Someday I would like to find out the answer to my question.
We made it just in time to board the ferry and then disembark in Algerias again. From Algerias it was back onto another bus heading towards Seville. Basically Sunday was bus day. I never did the math but I think it’s safe to say we spent over half the day traveling on a bus. In Seville we walked to our hostel and then found ourselves some dinner. Neither one of us wanted tapas so we found a Chinese restaurant and had that for dinner at 11:30pm. The next morning we had to get to leave by 6:30am in order to walk to the bus station and catch the first bus of the day to Huelva. As soon as I sat down on the bus I passed out and didn’t wake up until we were in Huelva. I think that was the best sleep I’ve ever gotten on a Damas bus. In Huelva we had 45 minutes until our next bus back to Valverde so we had breakfast. I had to get back early because I was suppose to be in school on Monday. Christen could have slept in and taken a later bus but she had things she wanted to take care of back home on her day off. I walked straight from the bus stop to school in order to get there before my first actual class. When I walked in Pocho asked why I was there. I told I had class and then she said I didn’t have to come today if I was tired. Sigh, thanks for that.
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