Catching Up

I know it's ridiculous that I'm just now posting again, but the thing about my blog is that when I started it, it was about "my adventure in Spain" and now... that's just my life. Unless I go traveling on a weekend or something, for the most part, it's just status quo here. Since we got back from Morocco, we have fallen into a comfortable routine, which has only been interrupted by visiters. We should travel more, but that's life. I've been prepping my kids at school for the Trinity exam (the English oral test they'll take in May) and I'm still giving private lessons after school most days, so my weeks go from being very work heavy (M-T-W) to long weekends. Joaquín started a new job in March and he's really enjoying it. 

So in February, we celebrated Carnival at school, and the whole fourth grade dressed up as Gondoliers. We were learning about Venice for Cultural week, so there was a purpose to it, I promise. 

Even I had a striped shirt on, though it was cold enough that I needed the coat (the kids came prepared with several layers underneath, I suppose). 

Then Annie (my cousin) came to visit for a day and we did a walking tour with her and her friend Michelle. They're studying in France right now. We had a great time walking around the city on the first day, and the next, we went to El Prado museum for a while. It was a fabulous weekend! 

Finally, to fully catch up my "readers," for Semana Santa, my mom, Jeff, and my sister came to visit for a week! We made sure to stay busy every day. We went to Retiro Park, on a walking tour around the city, the Palace, El Prado, and even on a day trip to Toledo. My mom and Jeff spent a day in Valladolid and went on a winery tour. While they were there, Claire and I did a lot of shopping (not to mention getting tattoos!). It was a really phenomenal visit, and I loved seeing them all again. 

(This is the view of the city from El Circulo de Las Bellas Artes)

Happy mom and daughter! 

I'll try to post more regularly from now on! 

La grande adventure marocaine

Fes

Wow, I should have practiced my French more before coming here. I knew that the languages most used other than Arabic were Spanish and French (Spanish more in the north, French more in the south) but I really have forgotten a lot from living in Spain and just not using it. Well. Lesson learned. 

By the time we got to Fes, the sun had set, and we were not in the mood to try finding our hotel by walking. We went outside the station and flagged down a taxi... Who decided they just didn't want to take us so they drove off... And then another did this... And then another... We have yet to understand why the taxis stopped but then changed their minds, but eventually we got a "taxi" (we're positive it wasn't official) and got taken to the medina. We had to find our way from there, because the medina of Fes (remember medina means old city) does not allow cars. That, or no one is stupid enough to try driving in it, because the paths are so narrow and winding it would be physically impossible to do so. After a couple of "do you know oued souafine?" 's we asked the owner of an empty restaurant and he walked us to the right place. We came into the hotel, which really must have been an old mansion, because the entire middle was just a gorgeous stone courtyard with a makeshift ceiling three stories up. It was beautiful, but cold. The host took us up to the roof to see the view, then we decided to go out for dinner, so we walked through some of the medina to a nice restaurant area and ate. Well, Joaquín ate, I only had mint tea, because of the delicious and very late lunch we'd consumed on the road. We walked back and climbed up to the roof again to take some pictures,

 then crawled into bed. We wanted to wake up early the next morning and give ourselves some time to explore Fes, because we had tickets to Casablanca at 13:15, but once we woke up and got packed and had breakfast, it was a little later than we had anticipated. Still, we managed to explore quite a lot of the medina, see the mosque we wanted to see,

and see the open air tanneries (or, more accurately, smell them).

The medina in Fes was crazier, busier, older, and more colorful and winding and strange than anything we could have expected. Once, we walked into a small enclosure where two giant trees were growing, went through, explored for almost an hour, and then ended up in that same enclosure with no idea how we managed to get there again. Yet, I managed to keep a vague understanding of where we were most of the time, guiding us back to places we wanted to see again without too much difficulty. We bought some souvenirs, (none at the tannery, though I was very tempted), and found our way out of the medina and into a taxi, back to the station. We were moving on to Casablanca. If we go again, I will make sure we spend more time in Fes. 

Casablanca

The bus to Casablanca got us there around 18:00 so we, again, took a taxi to our place (this time not a hotel but the house of a nice retired French woman named Elisabeth who lets her extra room to tourists, and who seems to live in an area Joaquín described as "the Florida for the French," in other words, lots of retirement communities) and after dropping off our stuff, we walked to the medina, down a long road with a high wall on one side and so many people selling and buying wares that it was hard to walk, finally making our way to the end and heading to Rick's Cafe.

Yes, I'm aware that this is as touristy as you can get; going to Rick's Cafe in Casablanca, even when you know it isn't the same cafe because the cafe scenes were filmed in a studio, but not caring and going anyway. Hell, I even ordered a Casablanca beer. I also took a picture with the head waiter while wearing his Fes, which he offered to me with the most tourist-pleasing smile ever.

After dinner, we walked back through the medina and stopped in a Starbucks to use the wifi and have tea, and later went to bed. 

The next day we went to the Hassan II Mosque which is absolutely beautiful.

It's huge, intricately designed, and right on the sea; waves are practically crashing at the walls, and it just dominates the whole seascape, in a stunning way.

It's one of those buildings that you know will be famous for centuries to come, long after it's creators and their descendants are dead. Unfortunately, we unknowingly planned our vacation at the celebration of Mohamed's birthday, a three day weekend. We were here on Sunday, so maybe that's why the mosque was closed, but I think it was more because of the holiday. It was still incredible from the outside. After taking a bunch of pictures there, we walked along the boardwalk for a while and made our way to the train station (we wanted to buy our tickets for the night train we would be taking from Marrakech to Tangier). But for some reason (maybe the holiday again?) there was no train the night we wanted to go, so we decided to stay another night in Marrakech and take the train the next night. Once we got that all figured out, we went to the place we had stayed to pick up our backpacks and walked around some more. We passed some wicked graffiti,

a mosque that was made to look like a pirate ship (vaguely),

and we walked past the cathedral (which is very sad and abandoned looking, but still an interesting mix of Moroccan architecture with church style)

and headed to the bus station to get to Marrakech. Last stop on our grand tour!

Marrakesh/Marrakech

I have no idea which is the correct spelling according to whom; they are both used commonly enough and there are so many different spellings for Arabic names of places using the Latin alphabet that it is nearly impossible to navigate anywhere in the country anyways unless you hear the words spoken and can repeat them exactly as you heard them. I suppose that's what happens when you have a country that has been ruled over by the French, the Spanish, and their own people, intermittently over the last few centuries. Are the words Arabic influenced by French? By Spanish? By English? Who knows! 

We got to Marrakech Sunday evening and took a taxi to our hotel (back to a hotel this time), which was right up the road from both Place Koutoubia and Jamaa El-Fna, (also possibly spelled Djma El-Fna) two of the most famous places in the old city. That night, we wandered around the square and ate at a cafe with a terrace overlooking the bustling block, attempting not to freeze or be burned by the food.

Also one of us may have fed a skulking cat that had the most pitiful eyes ever. 

The next day, we went to the Museum of Marrakesh, which involved a beautiful Moroccan building with beautiful Moroccan artifacts and beautiful, sad stray Moroccan cats (much like basically most of Morocco). We walked by the Jamaa El-Fna again, this time to see what it was like in the day. During the night, it was crowded with fruit-juice stands, kabob pop-up restaurants, and circles of Moroccan musicians and dancers and audience members. During the day, it was very similar, except at now there were snake charmers and monkey trainers instead of musicians and dancers. I, stupidly, allowed my gaze to linger too long on a snake charming act and got us dragged into holding them and getting our pictures taken,

for which we then got to pay (mostly what frustrated me was how clearly the snakes were drugged or just not well taken care of, but the animals seem to be my weakness in this country. The monkeys, too, were not happy about their chain necklaces)... We then walked all the way to Le Jardin Majorelle, which was originally a private garden owned by a guy named, you guessed it, Majorelle, but came into the possession of Yves Saint Laurent at some point, and also became a public garden. It really is beautiful: full of plants from every continent that has plants, as well as koi ponds and gorgeous pots painted bright colors and hanging, flowering vines, and a quiet atmosphere, of which the city could certainly use more.

 We finished with the garden, ate lunch in a nearby cafe, and walked back to the medina, down through the heart of it, picking up some trinkets along the way (we learned far too late that we are very bad at haggling). We explored more of the medina, happening upon the metal market, where they make things out of, well, metal, and in the evening we ended up back at Jamaa El-Fna, eating dinner, not at a lofty perch above the swarm like the night before, but down among it, in one of the restaurant-stands. It reminded me of being at the renaissance fair. We got to witness one adorable child's first attempt at eating an olive. Her emotions went from curiosity and desire to shock and contempt very quickly (though that did not stop her from trying to eat more). 

The next day (because remember we now had TWO WHOLE DAYS in Marrakech!) we went to the Saadien Tombs.

 These probably would have been better with a tour guide, but I wikied some info and managed to discover that this graveyard had been lost (somehow in the middle of the city) for centuries after a King walled it up, and was only found after some aerial documentation of the city was done. The king destroyed a bunch of buildings but they assume he didn't destroy this one due to superstition (you know, of a bunch of dead people). Well, I'm glad, because it's a gorgeous area with beautiful tombs (princes and nobles inside the buildings; servants and soldiers outside in the courtyard). We went to a cafe for lunch (and to try the last food we needed to try: pastilla, which is a sweet pastry on the outside, but filled with savory meats and vegetables. A very strange but delicious combination). We then made our way to the Palais Badia, the ruins of a palace, where we walked up a tower to view the city.

We also saw a magnificent CHAIR (which actually was really cool: it's a religious chair that priests would preach from which was made centuries ago in Cordoba and involves thousands of carved wood and bone panels and inscriptions, most of which is still there. The experience was slightly dampened by a cat that was crying from one of the walls, presumably because it couldn't figure out how to get down... Believe me when I say, I will remember the cats of Morocco far longer than I will remember most other aspects of the country... 

From that palace, we walked to a different, more intact palace, And toured that before walking through yet more of the medina we had yet to experience. We went to the Place Koutoubia to see the sunset,

but Joaquín had started feeling sick earlier and we decided to go find a pharmacy and get some medicine, then we ate at KFC (HIS idea), and finally got our bags from the hotel and headed to the train station. We took a night train from Marrakech to tangier, took a taxi from tangier to Tanger Med, the port, took a ferry across to Algeciras, took a bus from there to Malaga, and I am currently writing this while in a car on our way back to Madrid. By the end of it all, we were actually trying to think of forms of transportation that we didn't use on this trip, since we managed to get a whole bunch in. So that was our trip to Morocco! Thanks for reading! 

La gran Aventura Marroqui

We flew into Tanger airport the afternoon of the last day of the year. December 31st, 2014, getting there just in time for Joaquín to complete a resolution: "travel to another country before the end of the year." Talk about a master procrastinator. 

We exchanged some money (the Moroccan dirham is about 11 for every 1 euro right now, and most exchange places do about 10), got into a "grand taxi," and headed for the city. In Morocco, grand taxis go between cities, and petit taxis take you around the city. And while in countries in Europe, taxis are the pricy option because there's usually public transport, here they are basically the only option, at least within a city. The first things we noticed were that all the taxis were Mercedes, and that none of them had seat belts (which, with the way people drive here, is a little terrifying). The other thing I noticed right away is how green it is here. I mean really, really green. Greener than Spain (at least where I live in Spain). I always thought, okay, Morocco is a part of Africa. It's close to the Sahara. It's gonna be sandy... Right? Wrong. Well, for the north anyway, which is where we were. I've seen more grass here than I've seen for a year living in Madrid, and I really miss grass! 

So, Tangier. We spent a night there (we spent one night in each place which we will not be doing next time because god it is exhausting), wandering the medina (old city). There is a medina in every city here, each of them as complex and strange as the next. Basically, the medina is the part of the city that existed in medieval times, when there were walls around cities and you used horses and donkeys to get around. You can really tell that's what these places used to be (particularly in Fes where there are no motor vehicles allowed). Some places allow motorcycles or have pathways big enough for cars, but for the most part it's all foot traffic. Very different from the car-crazy cities I've been too. 

In Tangier, we walked around the medina until we happened upon (quite by accident) our hotel, checked in, dropped off our stuff, and went to the American legation museum.  I really had no idea that Morocco and the U.S. have such a good relationship, but I guess when a country is willing to recognize another country as a sovereign nation, and they're the first to do so, it's hard not to love them for it. It was a little weird walking into a building in Morocco and seeing an American flag hanging, next to American uniforms, with letters to and from American presidents displayed in every room. 

Mostly what we've done in every city is wander. Wander the medina, wander the streets, look into shops while trying not to look too interested, stop at restaurants and stands, etc. We haven't had time to do too much in each place, but I've enjoyed the wandering. In some ways the medinas remind me of Venice, where you can be lost for an hour and then suddenly happen upon your destination with no real idea of how you got there. 

I think the biggest difference between Spain and Morocco, that I've noticed everywhere, is that kids are all over the place. They play in the streets, they stay out for hours, they talk to strangers with no fear, they have zero adult supervision and yet it's clear to me that they feel safe and secure. The streets, while not literally their homes, feel like home. At times I think, how nice it would be if kids could live like that in Spain or the u.s., but then again, how nice it would be if these kids had the privileges we have, too. 

Sorry, I keep getting sidetracked. We went to the ALM, then wandered, got lost, got help from a stranger, found our way again, got dinner at a restaurant just outside of the medina, and then wandered some more until we went back to the hotel and went to bed. Joaquín fell asleep before it was even midnight, so no, we didn't have a wild and raucous New Years, but it was pretty amazing nonetheless. 

(This was the view from our room in Tangier).

The next day, we walked to the bus station after getting breakfast. On the way, we stopped by the beach and admired the view, along with some camels and people sleeping on the sand, but we didn't walk all the way to the water.

We moved on, got to the station, and took a bus to Chefchaouen. 

The Blue Pearl of Morocco: Chefchaouen, or Chaouen

Chefchaouen is a little town in the mountains to the east of Tangier, and it is beautiful!

The medina is all painted blue, and we discovered the reason is because they wanted to keep the buildings cool during the hot seasons, and painting them blue makes the sun less harsh. Talk about a gorgeous, practical reason for an entire city to be blue. It still has the feel of an ancient city, because the majority of the medina is so steep that not even carts or donkeys can traverse the steps and paths.

We took a petit taxi to the highest point that cars can go, a place called "Raj El Ma," and looked over the waterfall that borders the entire side of the city. We walked around the medina a little bit, trying to find the guest house we were staying in. It's been weird trying to communicate here, because Joaquín and I both keep switching in and out of Spanish and English, and for me, French, because you never know which language the people are going to know better. Well, we made it to our place and met the host, who showed us his "crazy cock," a rooster that hangs around the entrance and, if you wave your hand over him, he spins around in circles until he gets dizzy and falls on your feet. Yeah. Crazy cock it is. 

(The crazy cock, another rooster, and a cat, all enjoying a meal together). 

We were very happy that this room had heating, because the room in Tangier did not and while this is Africa, it is still pretty far north, in the mountains, and January, so it has been really cold! I never even thought to consider making sure there was heating in the places we stayed! 

We put our stuff down and went through the medina to the Kasbah (I'm pretty sure that's the word for castle or fortress, but I still haven't fully figured it out). We went in and climbed the tower to see the views, miraculously getting there just as the sun was setting over the mountain.

Then we wandered the medina some more, browsing the shops and finally stopping at a restaurant to eat dinner and drink mint tea. My god they drink a lot of mint tea here. It's literally the only kind of tea you can get in most places, not that I mind, since it's delicious. After that we went back to ras el ma and climbed up a bit for a view,

got more tea, and went to our place again.  It had a rooftop terrace from which we could see a beautiful view of the city, and we took some pictures from there before crashing for the night. I can tell you that Morocco is not a country for late night party people (mostly because of the no alcohol thing, but really it's just not a late night kind of place). 

(Photos cannot express how incredibly quiet this whole city was).

The next morning Medi (our host) had a woman bring us breakfast, which consisted of mint tea, breads, and jam, cheese, and butter. We ate, gathered our things, and headed out. Of course, we planned on buying our tickets to Fes that day at the station, but we ran into Medi on the way out and he said someone told him all the buses were full: no tickets to be had. Catastrophe! We could take a grand taxi, but it would be something like 70€, versus 7€ for the bus, so not a fun option. We decided to figure it out later, wanting to walk up past Ras El Ma again and see the city during the day.

(Edited because SOMEONE had not changed my camera back to auto mode from the night before...)

We passed what looked like an avalanche path, and a young couple doing what young couples do, albeit slightly more publicly than most, but no marijuana plantations (which I was a little disappointed by since the travel guides said we totally would. Chefchaouen is known for its hash. Not that I would have bought any, but I wanted to see one at least). 

We walked through the medina, hoping to get some more cash because I wanted to buy some blue cloth, but all of the cash exchange places in the main plaza were closed. Then the only ATM was out of money. But this turned out to be actually perfect, because when we finally found a cash exchange, Joaquín asked him if he knew a way to get to Fes other than by bus or grand taxi, because the buses were full. Turns out, the guy knew the man that ran the ticketing office at the bus station, so he called him and told him he we needed tickets. It wasn't certain, and they needed half an hour to figure it out, so we went to get me money from an ATM, but the cloth I wanted, and come back. We sat for a bit and the guy called back and said, yeah, there were tickets for us, so we went to the bus station and showed him the card of the money exchange guy for our "in" and waited for the bus. 

Something else that pains me so much about Morocco is the number of stray animals. There are cats running around the streets everywhere, lying on every rooftop, every street corner, digging around in every dumpster, etc. There are starving dogs at the roadsides and farms... It's upsetting for me. 

Well, I can't fix the whole world, even if I took home every stray cat and dog I saw. 

Now we head to Fes, again by bus, stopping at a tiny restaurant with whole pigs hanging in front of the counter and so much smoke from the grill that you couldn't stand near the whole building without breathing it.

But man was the food good. 

See the next post for the second part of the trip!