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!