Morocco
Man, what an awesome trip. Warning, this will probably be a LONG, post!
So I've officially started my summer of travel, with a trip to Morocco 15-20 May. Super fun trip. It was my first trip to an Arab (or a third world) country. All the research we had done made me slightly nervous. I guess women are encouraged to dress conservatively or wear a hat. With the temperature looking to push 90 degrees, I wasn't overly excited about that. After a mostly fruitless search for long sleeve shirts and a hat, I decided they could just deal with it, and I'd wear short sleeves and jeans. Coincidentally, I went to dinner with Jason before my trip, who had just gotten back from Morocco. He said there were a ton of European tourists wearing tanktops and skirts, so I'd be fine. I had read that the Arab men will be very direct with foreign women (catcalls, whistling, hissing, etc) so I was mentally prepared. With my bag packed and my SPF Irish (aka SPF 70) sunblock in tow, it was time to head to the airport. To add a little more interest to the trip, I had only met Nihar (organizer) in person once, and had never met Steph or Mary (though we know and work with a lot of the same people.)
Day 1:
Meet at the airport. Nihar had just returned from deployment and was super dark! I almost didn't recognize him! I also met the two girls and noted that not only was I the only blonde, but I was only the real white person in the group. Nihar is Indian, Mary looks mixed but with maybe some Hispanic blood, and Steph is mixed, but looks Arab. We flew into Marrakech, arriving at 0830. Lesson learned here: Bring a pen. Customs takes forever, and requires filling out a form. I got my first taste of feeling uncomfortable when we left baggage claim and entered the receiving area of the airport. I felt like all eyes were on me. After an unsuccessful hunt for an ATM, we find a currency exchange and get some dirham. We tried to take a cab into town, but the hostel reservation Nihar brought had only the area listed and not the exact address, and no phone number either. After an email back to Ramstein on my BlackBerry, we got some better info and caught a taxi. Our hostel was in the medina so he could only take us so far. The rest we had to hoof.
Marrakech is not a city with an easy, logical street layout. Streets are spiderwebbed everywhere, and half the time aren't well marked. They are also full of pedestrians, donkey carts, panhandlers, and motor bikes, making the whole place a nightmare for SA (situational awareness) and alertness. Keeping your wits about you constantly at that level was mentally exhausting. After wandering for what seemed forever, we finally found our hostel down a shady little alley thing. Here, Morocco showed us one of her first big secrets. She may look dirty and run-down on the outside, but the inside is just stunning. Our hostel was probably one of the coolest places I have ever stayed. The rooms didn't have locks. They weren't needed, aside from a small locker for passports and valuables. Off the main area was an open courtyard/atrium. All the rooms opened to this space, and we slept at night with nothing but a thin curtain covering part of the door and windows. By choice.
By now we were hungry, and so set off to find some lunch. Our hostel was just outside the souks and a very short walk from the main square Djamaa El Fna. The square is packed with every variety of reseller, performer/scam artist, fruit stands, and orange juice carts. The orange juice in Morocco is probably the best in the world. We could barely walk through for the chaos. Pedestrians, tourists, donkey carts and motorbikes were everywhere, traveling with no regard for anything else. Sellers tried salaciously to drag us into their stalls. Snake charms kept approaching us and trying to place their snakes around our necks. Men with monkeys did the same. Nothing in Marrakech is free. Even a touch, or asking directions will cost you. Avoid anything thrust towards you at all costs. Nevertheless, we did the tourist thing and got ripped off by the snake charmers, then Steph and I had an encounter with a monkey.. We found a little restaurant and I had my first taste of Moroccan food. Tajine is AWESOME. My instant favorite. I was not a fan of couscous. The rest of the day was spent exploring the area of the Square and the Mosque. The Square at night is definitely worth seeing. There are musicians everywhere, and they seem to like tourists in a different way than the vendors. Arabic music (especially the desert variety) is exciting to listen to, and fun to watch.
Day 2:
Second and final day in Marrakech. After some shisha the night before, we were up for a filling, hostel-provided breakfast, then off to explore the medina some more. We went to a place called Dar Si Said, which is one of the oldest houses in Marrakech. Very cool place. We ran into a groundskeeper who seemed enamored with Steph, and really thought he could speak English. I can't speak French, but I had the most luck with translating, so I took on the unofficial role. He gave us a tour of the whole place, showing us where the harem lived, the differences between the different tribal women, and even allowed us into some off-limits areas. While waiting for one of the palaces to open, Nihar starting walking randomly, determined to get away from the crowds of tourists. The other girls and I didn't feel that this was such a good idea, and after ending up in a particularly sketchy area where we were earning more than the usual attention, we convinced him to turn back. The palace was cool, but every room and courtyard felt the same. We had an awesome lunch of kebabs at some point, and spent the afternoon on a terrace drinking the Arabic mint tea. Very chill. After yet another awesome version of tajine for dinner, the group wanted to take a nap before heading out to Pacha, Africa's #1 club. We were supposed to wake up at 2300 to get ready and head out. That didn't happen.
Day 3:
Woke up early to catch the 0800 bus to Essaouira. Long ride, almost 3 hours but well worth it. The area is costal, an up-and-coming beach resort that has not yet been plagued with the constant harassment of street vendors like Marrakech. Oh, they are still there, especially in the souks, but it seemed a little calmer. We also didn't get catcalled quite as much - a welcome relief. Thankfully, the hostel owner met us at the bus stop to escort us into the Medina, and to the hostel, saving us from the maze and stress of finding that place with our luggage. This place was also much nicer on the inside than out, but not quite as nice as the first place. The mattress was lumpy, and not a comfortable sleep at all. Thankfully we were pretty drunk when we went to bed, so that took care of that. Anyway, after checking in, we wanted to hit the beach. It was much cooler here than in Marrakech.. maybe in the 70s and borderline chilly with the sea breeze. Lunch was the first order of business, and none of us were overly happy with our meal. We meandered the souks on the way to the beach, then walked along the waves toward the far end of the strand. There were camels and horses down there, and we wanted to check it out. Long story short, we ended up negotiating a good price for an hour-long camel ride on the beach. (I had the old longing for horseback riding, but reasoned the opportunity to ride a camel is not abundant.) The trip itself was quite amusing, the camels doing all sorts of nasty and amusing things when they weren't walking. This included drinking urine, making Wookie noises, and being camera hogs. Those camels loved to be photographed! Mary's camel either smiled or made a face for every picture he was in, and mine just stuck his head up so he could be seen - whether or not he was the one we were taking the picture with. We have the funniest picture of Mary with her camel. It started screaming when she got near, so she's got this "omg, what the hell?" face, while the camel has his mouth wide open like he's screaming in a horror movie. Absolutely priceless, and I'll post it when I get a copy from her.
After the camels, it was off to get some mediocre dinner, then a short trip outside the Medina walls to buy some alcohol. We got back to the hostel and starting drinking, having noticed a bar or two inside the Medina (alcohol inside the Medina in Marrakech was mostly forbidden). We ended up making friends with this black guy named Patrick, and the owner who were going out later. So after killing a bottle of wine and a few beers, we head off with them. Pat is interested in how we the ladies are being treated on this trip. He knew well about the Arab men, and we told him just to watch on our way to the bar. It was evident enough. In general, the open stares didn't bother me as much as the hissing, since I don't know what that means exactly. I did have one guy try to proposition me. He walked up next to me and asked where I was from, said I had beautiful eyes, beautiful hair, etc, then asked my name. I got nervous and grabbed Nihar, explaining that he was my husband. The guy said he didn't believe it and asked where our rings were. Nihar said "we were in Marrakech. Things get stolen." I indicated the claddagh on my right hand and claimed it was my ring (it's gold with an emerald heart and two small diamonds on each side, laid into the the cuffs). He eventually went away, but I was a little unnerved and wouldn't let go of Nihar's arm until I was sure he was gone. Only later did the girls tell me what they thought he was really after - and it wasn't my name. The bar was just ok. It was expensive, and there was a random rainstorm, so we had one round and went back to the hostel to kill our own alcohol.
Day 4:
Allowed ourselves to sleep in a little, then walked around the Medina to do some shopping and more sightseeing. The wall on the sea side of things was very interesting, and an old defense against pirates. The cannons are still in place. While on our way to get lunch, the strap on Steph's sandal broke. She didn't want to buy a new pair, so we decided to get to a restaurant and let her borrow someone's shoes to go back and get her other pair. The woman there would hear nothing of it and took her shoe to get repaired. The view from the rooftop balcony of the restaurant was gorgeous, and the sun felt awesome. The others got pizza and declared it awful, while on the other hand I had the best chicken tajine of the whole trip. It was to die for! Who would have guessed I'd like random local dishes so much? After lunch, we wandered the Medina some more to get some shopping done. The prices were cheaper than Marrakech, and easier to haggle. While walking around, Steph's shoe broke again, so she had to shuffle all the way back to the hostel, refusing to buy a new pair. It was almost time to leave anyway. The bus ride back to Marrakech was long, and we catnapped. The sun took more our of us than we had realized.
One of the taxi guys approached us at the bus station offering the price of 100 dirham to take us to the hotel. Normally we would have bartered the price down, but decided to just eat the cost this time and be done with it. It was only the equivalent of 10 euro anyway. That ended up being a fated decision.
The address on the reservation was wrong, and it took driving through NARROW alleys crammed with people, motorbikes, and donkey carts again, getting yelled at by Moroccans when we tried to park and call the hotel, and far too much attention before the situation was finally resolved. By all appearances, Nihar had booked this place in a super-shady part of town. We were all very uneasy, a rare thing for me to fully admit. I felt my hair standing out in the taxi like a beacon. Finally, we get to a more open area (though no less sketchy) to wait for the hotel people, who were apparently coming to meet us.
While still at our first hostel, we had asked the receptionist how to get to Ait Ben Haddou, a famous Kasbah in the middle of the desert. She told us it was a good five hour drive, and we had to book it with a tour company. She said we needed 3 days at least. This was Nihar's main point of interest, so he was not to be discouraged so easily. On the second morning, he learned from another staff member that one can hire a taxi for 1200 dirham for the day to go out there. (That's 120 Euro.. split that between four of us... Morocco was a pretty inexpensive country!) Remembering this, he asked our current cab driver if he did such trips while we waited for the hotel people to find us. He said he did, and we arranged to meet him the next morning for a day trip. Abdul was his name, and we were confirmed for 0800, to meet where he was dropping us off. Finally the hotel guy shows up and leads us to our hotel. It's supposed to be one of the nicest in Marrakech, and by appearances lived up to the reputation. We later found that it had cockroaches, however. Oh well. After freshening up, we set out to the main square again to find some dinner. Nihar was determined to hit Pacha tonight. I was tired for 1, and not wanting to go out, and cramping like hell for 2. The girls understood.. we told Nihar it was a headache to spare his male innocence. After dinner, they walked me back to the hotel before going out. I promptly crashed, and they rolled in around 3am.
Day 5 *best day*:
Like the good responsible one, I had set my alarm, and made sure everyone got up in time to meet the cab. We rolled out, and Abdul seemed pleased to see us. He said he would take us to a few other places besides Ait Ben Haddou to make the trip worthwhile. What would later become interesting: He spoke almost no English, strictly Arabic and French. (Morocco was once a French territory, and the language is as abundant as Arabic there.) So we pile into the cab and set out. The drive was very scenic and I would definitely recommend this trip to anyone. We went through the Atlas mountains and across the rocky beginnings of the desert. Ait Ben Haddou would be the last stop of the day, so we passed it initially to see another Kasbah, and the city of Ouarzazate. (OWR-zi-zet) If I go back, and I probably will, I want to spend more time in this area. Abdul seemed to be greatly amused in trying to get Nihar to pronounce that correctly. The poor guy just couldn't get it for the longest time! For a while it was "Zah-zuh-zuh..z.." which became a running joke. When we stopped there for lunch, we tried to get Abdul to come eat with us, but he politely refused. Nihar gave him 100 to get something, and the poor guy looked like "what are you giving me this for?" I think he wasn't used to Americans, especially considerate ones and had been operating off of preconceived notions, or something, because his behavior towards us seemed to change subtly after that. Maybe he just thought we were rich. Anyway. after a great lunch (more tajine! I could have branched out and got something different, but I knew I wouldn't get more of this in Germany) Nihar and I went across the street to check out the Kasbah while the other girls went shopping. Then it was back on the road for the highlight of the trip.
Ait Ben Haddou is absolutely stunning. It's an old mud-walled Kasbah set into the side of a big hill/small mountain and has withstood the wind for ages. The walls are a strange yet very strong mixture of mud and straw which has hardly deteriorated in all this time. It is remarkably preserved. Before we actually made it out there, however, we found ourselves in a shop. Steph had been pulled in by the shop owner thinking she was Moroccan. He then insisted that we all stay for tea, and dressed us in traditional wear (turbans and all!) His name was Abdel-something I can't spell, not to be confused with Abdul the cab driver. Abdel is from the Sahara, and moved to Ait Ben Haddou 15 years ago. He runs a small shop, and does Sahara expeditions on the side. Very, very charming guy, who seemed genuinely thrilled to speak with us. He did not pressure us to buy anything, but did mention that he would make us a good deal. It was almost off-hand, like the comment was obligatory. Intentional or not, it was a very good sales tactic. We sat with him for at least an hour, just chatting. He gave us all Arab names. Steph became Marichita, Mary was Miriam, Nihar was Braheem (later Rashid), and I was Fatima. Fun guy. He then offered to buy Mary and I for camels, asking Nihar his selling price. A joke, of course. He later told Nihar never to accept camels for us. "There is no price for them."
After that, the Kasbah itself was amazing. Nihar and I climbed to the top, where the wind was Gale-force. (Not to be confused with Gael-force ) I could lean into the wind nearly 45 degrees without falling, it was so strong. It's a wonder I wasn't blown off the mountain. You could see for hundreds of miles up there.. the Atlas mountains to one side, the desert to the other. Absolutely stunning. When we made it back down, I felt curiously as if I had conquered something, and was riding an intense natural high. It was after 5, and we didn't want poor Abdul driving through the mountains in the dark, so called it a day. Sunset in the mountains was the most beautiful thing.. the sky was saffron yellow and like something out of a post card. The mountains were red, and looked like they were made of blood in the rose-tinted light. Breathtaking. We were nearing the city when dusk settled in. To anyone who has never seen a sunset in the desert, it is perhaps the most beautiful thing in the world. The colors are so vivid.. I could actually see a green sky on the horizon just before darkness.. what some call "the green flash." I may take Abdel up on his Sahara offer, if for nothing more than the time between sunset and sunrise.
We arrived back in Marrakech and made arrangements with Abdul for transportation to the airport in the morning. Sadly, the trip was coming to an end. We tipped him well and parted ways. Dinner that night was done RIGHT. We wanted to go back to the place with the great kebabs, and went through the square to get there. I think we were all getting weary of the constant begging for money and snapped a few people. Unfortunately you just have to be rude. It's the way of things. Around 2230 we're starving and finally get to the kebab place only to find it closed. However Mary spots a interesting looking place next door, and we decide to try it out. We must have had the best food in Morocco, because our meal was about $200 for the four of us! (Typically, we all ate for about $60 together.) Outstanding tajine, however. Incredible wine (of which I bought two bottles at the duty-free), great shisha, and just all around fun times. We closed the place down. On day 6, we just woke up and went to the airport. Abdul loved us, and kept picking up on our running jokes, chiding Nihar with "zuh-zuh-zuh" when he dropped us off. He was not going to charge us for that ride either, but we decided to give him all our remaining dirham. It was only around 100, but it was the spirit of the thing, I believe.
All in all, this was a great trip, and I would definitely come to Morocco again. I want badly to go on the Tunisia trip in June, but I don't think the dates will work out. We'll see. As a tourist and not a native, I liked the Arab lifestyle. It was very simple, although being a female in that culture, I don't think I'd be happy given my Irish mentality of liberty or death. I liked how the Mosques called out prayers during the day. Especially during the evening ones, there was something peaceful about it. I can't say I was the biggest fan at 5am and hungover, but that's a different story.
Morocco was definitely a third world country, with the cleanliness and hygiene to prove it. However it was also culturally rich and probably one of the most interesting trips I've ever taken. If anyone plans on going, I would be happy to lend advice. There are some things that are critical to know at the outset or your trip could be potentially miserable. However if you're prepared, all is well. It is not worth wasting more space in a journal. To those of you who read all of this, thank you. I know it was a lot, and it gets hard to read so much, but I felt enriched by this experience and felt I needed the opportunity to share it. It's back to work tomorrow, though, then Wales on Friday. It's going to be a great summer.
So I've officially started my summer of travel, with a trip to Morocco 15-20 May. Super fun trip. It was my first trip to an Arab (or a third world) country. All the research we had done made me slightly nervous. I guess women are encouraged to dress conservatively or wear a hat. With the temperature looking to push 90 degrees, I wasn't overly excited about that. After a mostly fruitless search for long sleeve shirts and a hat, I decided they could just deal with it, and I'd wear short sleeves and jeans. Coincidentally, I went to dinner with Jason before my trip, who had just gotten back from Morocco. He said there were a ton of European tourists wearing tanktops and skirts, so I'd be fine. I had read that the Arab men will be very direct with foreign women (catcalls, whistling, hissing, etc) so I was mentally prepared. With my bag packed and my SPF Irish (aka SPF 70) sunblock in tow, it was time to head to the airport. To add a little more interest to the trip, I had only met Nihar (organizer) in person once, and had never met Steph or Mary (though we know and work with a lot of the same people.)
Day 1:
Meet at the airport. Nihar had just returned from deployment and was super dark! I almost didn't recognize him! I also met the two girls and noted that not only was I the only blonde, but I was only the real white person in the group. Nihar is Indian, Mary looks mixed but with maybe some Hispanic blood, and Steph is mixed, but looks Arab. We flew into Marrakech, arriving at 0830. Lesson learned here: Bring a pen. Customs takes forever, and requires filling out a form. I got my first taste of feeling uncomfortable when we left baggage claim and entered the receiving area of the airport. I felt like all eyes were on me. After an unsuccessful hunt for an ATM, we find a currency exchange and get some dirham. We tried to take a cab into town, but the hostel reservation Nihar brought had only the area listed and not the exact address, and no phone number either. After an email back to Ramstein on my BlackBerry, we got some better info and caught a taxi. Our hostel was in the medina so he could only take us so far. The rest we had to hoof.
Marrakech is not a city with an easy, logical street layout. Streets are spiderwebbed everywhere, and half the time aren't well marked. They are also full of pedestrians, donkey carts, panhandlers, and motor bikes, making the whole place a nightmare for SA (situational awareness) and alertness. Keeping your wits about you constantly at that level was mentally exhausting. After wandering for what seemed forever, we finally found our hostel down a shady little alley thing. Here, Morocco showed us one of her first big secrets. She may look dirty and run-down on the outside, but the inside is just stunning. Our hostel was probably one of the coolest places I have ever stayed. The rooms didn't have locks. They weren't needed, aside from a small locker for passports and valuables. Off the main area was an open courtyard/atrium. All the rooms opened to this space, and we slept at night with nothing but a thin curtain covering part of the door and windows. By choice.
By now we were hungry, and so set off to find some lunch. Our hostel was just outside the souks and a very short walk from the main square Djamaa El Fna. The square is packed with every variety of reseller, performer/scam artist, fruit stands, and orange juice carts. The orange juice in Morocco is probably the best in the world. We could barely walk through for the chaos. Pedestrians, tourists, donkey carts and motorbikes were everywhere, traveling with no regard for anything else. Sellers tried salaciously to drag us into their stalls. Snake charms kept approaching us and trying to place their snakes around our necks. Men with monkeys did the same. Nothing in Marrakech is free. Even a touch, or asking directions will cost you. Avoid anything thrust towards you at all costs. Nevertheless, we did the tourist thing and got ripped off by the snake charmers, then Steph and I had an encounter with a monkey.. We found a little restaurant and I had my first taste of Moroccan food. Tajine is AWESOME. My instant favorite. I was not a fan of couscous. The rest of the day was spent exploring the area of the Square and the Mosque. The Square at night is definitely worth seeing. There are musicians everywhere, and they seem to like tourists in a different way than the vendors. Arabic music (especially the desert variety) is exciting to listen to, and fun to watch.
Day 2:
Second and final day in Marrakech. After some shisha the night before, we were up for a filling, hostel-provided breakfast, then off to explore the medina some more. We went to a place called Dar Si Said, which is one of the oldest houses in Marrakech. Very cool place. We ran into a groundskeeper who seemed enamored with Steph, and really thought he could speak English. I can't speak French, but I had the most luck with translating, so I took on the unofficial role. He gave us a tour of the whole place, showing us where the harem lived, the differences between the different tribal women, and even allowed us into some off-limits areas. While waiting for one of the palaces to open, Nihar starting walking randomly, determined to get away from the crowds of tourists. The other girls and I didn't feel that this was such a good idea, and after ending up in a particularly sketchy area where we were earning more than the usual attention, we convinced him to turn back. The palace was cool, but every room and courtyard felt the same. We had an awesome lunch of kebabs at some point, and spent the afternoon on a terrace drinking the Arabic mint tea. Very chill. After yet another awesome version of tajine for dinner, the group wanted to take a nap before heading out to Pacha, Africa's #1 club. We were supposed to wake up at 2300 to get ready and head out. That didn't happen.
Day 3:
Woke up early to catch the 0800 bus to Essaouira. Long ride, almost 3 hours but well worth it. The area is costal, an up-and-coming beach resort that has not yet been plagued with the constant harassment of street vendors like Marrakech. Oh, they are still there, especially in the souks, but it seemed a little calmer. We also didn't get catcalled quite as much - a welcome relief. Thankfully, the hostel owner met us at the bus stop to escort us into the Medina, and to the hostel, saving us from the maze and stress of finding that place with our luggage. This place was also much nicer on the inside than out, but not quite as nice as the first place. The mattress was lumpy, and not a comfortable sleep at all. Thankfully we were pretty drunk when we went to bed, so that took care of that. Anyway, after checking in, we wanted to hit the beach. It was much cooler here than in Marrakech.. maybe in the 70s and borderline chilly with the sea breeze. Lunch was the first order of business, and none of us were overly happy with our meal. We meandered the souks on the way to the beach, then walked along the waves toward the far end of the strand. There were camels and horses down there, and we wanted to check it out. Long story short, we ended up negotiating a good price for an hour-long camel ride on the beach. (I had the old longing for horseback riding, but reasoned the opportunity to ride a camel is not abundant.) The trip itself was quite amusing, the camels doing all sorts of nasty and amusing things when they weren't walking. This included drinking urine, making Wookie noises, and being camera hogs. Those camels loved to be photographed! Mary's camel either smiled or made a face for every picture he was in, and mine just stuck his head up so he could be seen - whether or not he was the one we were taking the picture with. We have the funniest picture of Mary with her camel. It started screaming when she got near, so she's got this "omg, what the hell?" face, while the camel has his mouth wide open like he's screaming in a horror movie. Absolutely priceless, and I'll post it when I get a copy from her.
After the camels, it was off to get some mediocre dinner, then a short trip outside the Medina walls to buy some alcohol. We got back to the hostel and starting drinking, having noticed a bar or two inside the Medina (alcohol inside the Medina in Marrakech was mostly forbidden). We ended up making friends with this black guy named Patrick, and the owner who were going out later. So after killing a bottle of wine and a few beers, we head off with them. Pat is interested in how we the ladies are being treated on this trip. He knew well about the Arab men, and we told him just to watch on our way to the bar. It was evident enough. In general, the open stares didn't bother me as much as the hissing, since I don't know what that means exactly. I did have one guy try to proposition me. He walked up next to me and asked where I was from, said I had beautiful eyes, beautiful hair, etc, then asked my name. I got nervous and grabbed Nihar, explaining that he was my husband. The guy said he didn't believe it and asked where our rings were. Nihar said "we were in Marrakech. Things get stolen." I indicated the claddagh on my right hand and claimed it was my ring (it's gold with an emerald heart and two small diamonds on each side, laid into the the cuffs). He eventually went away, but I was a little unnerved and wouldn't let go of Nihar's arm until I was sure he was gone. Only later did the girls tell me what they thought he was really after - and it wasn't my name. The bar was just ok. It was expensive, and there was a random rainstorm, so we had one round and went back to the hostel to kill our own alcohol.
Day 4:
Allowed ourselves to sleep in a little, then walked around the Medina to do some shopping and more sightseeing. The wall on the sea side of things was very interesting, and an old defense against pirates. The cannons are still in place. While on our way to get lunch, the strap on Steph's sandal broke. She didn't want to buy a new pair, so we decided to get to a restaurant and let her borrow someone's shoes to go back and get her other pair. The woman there would hear nothing of it and took her shoe to get repaired. The view from the rooftop balcony of the restaurant was gorgeous, and the sun felt awesome. The others got pizza and declared it awful, while on the other hand I had the best chicken tajine of the whole trip. It was to die for! Who would have guessed I'd like random local dishes so much? After lunch, we wandered the Medina some more to get some shopping done. The prices were cheaper than Marrakech, and easier to haggle. While walking around, Steph's shoe broke again, so she had to shuffle all the way back to the hostel, refusing to buy a new pair. It was almost time to leave anyway. The bus ride back to Marrakech was long, and we catnapped. The sun took more our of us than we had realized.
One of the taxi guys approached us at the bus station offering the price of 100 dirham to take us to the hotel. Normally we would have bartered the price down, but decided to just eat the cost this time and be done with it. It was only the equivalent of 10 euro anyway. That ended up being a fated decision.
The address on the reservation was wrong, and it took driving through NARROW alleys crammed with people, motorbikes, and donkey carts again, getting yelled at by Moroccans when we tried to park and call the hotel, and far too much attention before the situation was finally resolved. By all appearances, Nihar had booked this place in a super-shady part of town. We were all very uneasy, a rare thing for me to fully admit. I felt my hair standing out in the taxi like a beacon. Finally, we get to a more open area (though no less sketchy) to wait for the hotel people, who were apparently coming to meet us.
While still at our first hostel, we had asked the receptionist how to get to Ait Ben Haddou, a famous Kasbah in the middle of the desert. She told us it was a good five hour drive, and we had to book it with a tour company. She said we needed 3 days at least. This was Nihar's main point of interest, so he was not to be discouraged so easily. On the second morning, he learned from another staff member that one can hire a taxi for 1200 dirham for the day to go out there. (That's 120 Euro.. split that between four of us... Morocco was a pretty inexpensive country!) Remembering this, he asked our current cab driver if he did such trips while we waited for the hotel people to find us. He said he did, and we arranged to meet him the next morning for a day trip. Abdul was his name, and we were confirmed for 0800, to meet where he was dropping us off. Finally the hotel guy shows up and leads us to our hotel. It's supposed to be one of the nicest in Marrakech, and by appearances lived up to the reputation. We later found that it had cockroaches, however. Oh well. After freshening up, we set out to the main square again to find some dinner. Nihar was determined to hit Pacha tonight. I was tired for 1, and not wanting to go out, and cramping like hell for 2. The girls understood.. we told Nihar it was a headache to spare his male innocence. After dinner, they walked me back to the hotel before going out. I promptly crashed, and they rolled in around 3am.
Day 5 *best day*:
Like the good responsible one, I had set my alarm, and made sure everyone got up in time to meet the cab. We rolled out, and Abdul seemed pleased to see us. He said he would take us to a few other places besides Ait Ben Haddou to make the trip worthwhile. What would later become interesting: He spoke almost no English, strictly Arabic and French. (Morocco was once a French territory, and the language is as abundant as Arabic there.) So we pile into the cab and set out. The drive was very scenic and I would definitely recommend this trip to anyone. We went through the Atlas mountains and across the rocky beginnings of the desert. Ait Ben Haddou would be the last stop of the day, so we passed it initially to see another Kasbah, and the city of Ouarzazate. (OWR-zi-zet) If I go back, and I probably will, I want to spend more time in this area. Abdul seemed to be greatly amused in trying to get Nihar to pronounce that correctly. The poor guy just couldn't get it for the longest time! For a while it was "Zah-zuh-zuh..z.." which became a running joke. When we stopped there for lunch, we tried to get Abdul to come eat with us, but he politely refused. Nihar gave him 100 to get something, and the poor guy looked like "what are you giving me this for?" I think he wasn't used to Americans, especially considerate ones and had been operating off of preconceived notions, or something, because his behavior towards us seemed to change subtly after that. Maybe he just thought we were rich. Anyway. after a great lunch (more tajine! I could have branched out and got something different, but I knew I wouldn't get more of this in Germany) Nihar and I went across the street to check out the Kasbah while the other girls went shopping. Then it was back on the road for the highlight of the trip.
Ait Ben Haddou is absolutely stunning. It's an old mud-walled Kasbah set into the side of a big hill/small mountain and has withstood the wind for ages. The walls are a strange yet very strong mixture of mud and straw which has hardly deteriorated in all this time. It is remarkably preserved. Before we actually made it out there, however, we found ourselves in a shop. Steph had been pulled in by the shop owner thinking she was Moroccan. He then insisted that we all stay for tea, and dressed us in traditional wear (turbans and all!) His name was Abdel-something I can't spell, not to be confused with Abdul the cab driver. Abdel is from the Sahara, and moved to Ait Ben Haddou 15 years ago. He runs a small shop, and does Sahara expeditions on the side. Very, very charming guy, who seemed genuinely thrilled to speak with us. He did not pressure us to buy anything, but did mention that he would make us a good deal. It was almost off-hand, like the comment was obligatory. Intentional or not, it was a very good sales tactic. We sat with him for at least an hour, just chatting. He gave us all Arab names. Steph became Marichita, Mary was Miriam, Nihar was Braheem (later Rashid), and I was Fatima. Fun guy. He then offered to buy Mary and I for camels, asking Nihar his selling price. A joke, of course. He later told Nihar never to accept camels for us. "There is no price for them."
After that, the Kasbah itself was amazing. Nihar and I climbed to the top, where the wind was Gale-force. (Not to be confused with Gael-force ) I could lean into the wind nearly 45 degrees without falling, it was so strong. It's a wonder I wasn't blown off the mountain. You could see for hundreds of miles up there.. the Atlas mountains to one side, the desert to the other. Absolutely stunning. When we made it back down, I felt curiously as if I had conquered something, and was riding an intense natural high. It was after 5, and we didn't want poor Abdul driving through the mountains in the dark, so called it a day. Sunset in the mountains was the most beautiful thing.. the sky was saffron yellow and like something out of a post card. The mountains were red, and looked like they were made of blood in the rose-tinted light. Breathtaking. We were nearing the city when dusk settled in. To anyone who has never seen a sunset in the desert, it is perhaps the most beautiful thing in the world. The colors are so vivid.. I could actually see a green sky on the horizon just before darkness.. what some call "the green flash." I may take Abdel up on his Sahara offer, if for nothing more than the time between sunset and sunrise.
We arrived back in Marrakech and made arrangements with Abdul for transportation to the airport in the morning. Sadly, the trip was coming to an end. We tipped him well and parted ways. Dinner that night was done RIGHT. We wanted to go back to the place with the great kebabs, and went through the square to get there. I think we were all getting weary of the constant begging for money and snapped a few people. Unfortunately you just have to be rude. It's the way of things. Around 2230 we're starving and finally get to the kebab place only to find it closed. However Mary spots a interesting looking place next door, and we decide to try it out. We must have had the best food in Morocco, because our meal was about $200 for the four of us! (Typically, we all ate for about $60 together.) Outstanding tajine, however. Incredible wine (of which I bought two bottles at the duty-free), great shisha, and just all around fun times. We closed the place down. On day 6, we just woke up and went to the airport. Abdul loved us, and kept picking up on our running jokes, chiding Nihar with "zuh-zuh-zuh" when he dropped us off. He was not going to charge us for that ride either, but we decided to give him all our remaining dirham. It was only around 100, but it was the spirit of the thing, I believe.
All in all, this was a great trip, and I would definitely come to Morocco again. I want badly to go on the Tunisia trip in June, but I don't think the dates will work out. We'll see. As a tourist and not a native, I liked the Arab lifestyle. It was very simple, although being a female in that culture, I don't think I'd be happy given my Irish mentality of liberty or death. I liked how the Mosques called out prayers during the day. Especially during the evening ones, there was something peaceful about it. I can't say I was the biggest fan at 5am and hungover, but that's a different story.
Morocco was definitely a third world country, with the cleanliness and hygiene to prove it. However it was also culturally rich and probably one of the most interesting trips I've ever taken. If anyone plans on going, I would be happy to lend advice. There are some things that are critical to know at the outset or your trip could be potentially miserable. However if you're prepared, all is well. It is not worth wasting more space in a journal. To those of you who read all of this, thank you. I know it was a lot, and it gets hard to read so much, but I felt enriched by this experience and felt I needed the opportunity to share it. It's back to work tomorrow, though, then Wales on Friday. It's going to be a great summer.