Day 7 (May 21): Travel to Melilla (written in retrospect)
So we started out by taking the train from Taza to Taourert. There we changed trains, and some of the train people kind of took us under their wing, a little against our wishes. It was kind of hard for Jancy to keep us all together and speak to the guys in Arabic and keep them from grabbing our suitcases and just hauling them off down the train. Not to steal them, but to help us get them from one train to another. It was more than a little disconcerting.
Then we took a second train to the town called Nador. Nador is on the peninsula with Melilla (pronounced meh lee ya), just on the Moroccan side of the border. See, Melilla is actually a part of Spain. There is a border crossing and everything. Getting off the train, you are in a rather nice train station with a restaurant that even serves ice cream. Since we had had sandwiches from Taza that we brought with us and ate on the train, none of us were particularly hungry, so we continued on our journey. From the train station, you grab a taxi (or two, if your party is big enough) to the border crossing. As you drive there, to your right you can start to see the Mediterranean Sea. Then you get to the border crossing.
The only way for tourists and people who don’t own cars to get across the border is to walk. First you get to the Moroccan side of the border, where you have to fill out a form with your name, place of birth, etc. and have your passport stamped by the official there. Ironically enough, it seems like cars are often waved right through. Then there is a trek of roughly 150 yards through the no-man’s land in between the two countries. An official then checks your passport for the stamp from the Moroccan guy, and sends you over to the next official who asks you the same questions the Moroccan guy asked you, and stamps your passport again. Then you are finally in Spain(!). You grab another taxi or two and head for your hotel in Melilla. I would have taken pictures, except that in Morocco, it is very illegal to take a picture of anyone in uniform or any government building.
Melilla is a very interesting city. Near the border it looks and feels very much like morocco. As you near the city’s center, it becomes more and more like a wesern city, until by the time you get to the center, you really might as well be in Europe somewhere. We had several discussions about just what is the difference between Melilla and the rest of Morocco, without totally being able to pinpoint it. It is cleaner, more civilized, there is a greater sense of self-responsibility, to name a few things, but that just barely scratches the surface. Spanish is the primary language here, so Dad and I became “team leaders” at this point since we speak much more fluent Spanish than anyone else (Jancy’s Spanish has been overlaid by Arabic, so she has trouble using that instead).
We stayed at the Hotel Rusadir, which after our accommodations in Taza seemed really really nice. After taking a rest at the hotel, we headed out for dinner and ended up at a random tapas bar. There we discovered the best drink in the world, tinto de verano. Tinto literally means colored, but in the context of wine, means red wine. The entire phrase means summer red wine. It is a sweet, sparkling red wine, akin to sangria. Very delicioso! We also split a few different tapas between us. Very good dinner.
Then we took a second train to the town called Nador. Nador is on the peninsula with Melilla (pronounced meh lee ya), just on the Moroccan side of the border. See, Melilla is actually a part of Spain. There is a border crossing and everything. Getting off the train, you are in a rather nice train station with a restaurant that even serves ice cream. Since we had had sandwiches from Taza that we brought with us and ate on the train, none of us were particularly hungry, so we continued on our journey. From the train station, you grab a taxi (or two, if your party is big enough) to the border crossing. As you drive there, to your right you can start to see the Mediterranean Sea. Then you get to the border crossing.
The only way for tourists and people who don’t own cars to get across the border is to walk. First you get to the Moroccan side of the border, where you have to fill out a form with your name, place of birth, etc. and have your passport stamped by the official there. Ironically enough, it seems like cars are often waved right through. Then there is a trek of roughly 150 yards through the no-man’s land in between the two countries. An official then checks your passport for the stamp from the Moroccan guy, and sends you over to the next official who asks you the same questions the Moroccan guy asked you, and stamps your passport again. Then you are finally in Spain(!). You grab another taxi or two and head for your hotel in Melilla. I would have taken pictures, except that in Morocco, it is very illegal to take a picture of anyone in uniform or any government building.
Melilla is a very interesting city. Near the border it looks and feels very much like morocco. As you near the city’s center, it becomes more and more like a wesern city, until by the time you get to the center, you really might as well be in Europe somewhere. We had several discussions about just what is the difference between Melilla and the rest of Morocco, without totally being able to pinpoint it. It is cleaner, more civilized, there is a greater sense of self-responsibility, to name a few things, but that just barely scratches the surface. Spanish is the primary language here, so Dad and I became “team leaders” at this point since we speak much more fluent Spanish than anyone else (Jancy’s Spanish has been overlaid by Arabic, so she has trouble using that instead).
We stayed at the Hotel Rusadir, which after our accommodations in Taza seemed really really nice. After taking a rest at the hotel, we headed out for dinner and ended up at a random tapas bar. There we discovered the best drink in the world, tinto de verano. Tinto literally means colored, but in the context of wine, means red wine. The entire phrase means summer red wine. It is a sweet, sparkling red wine, akin to sangria. Very delicioso! We also split a few different tapas between us. Very good dinner.