So Saturday morning, our first morning in Spain, we were up early heading to Africa. It still sounds unreal to me!!
I knew nothing about Morocco except that it seems very exotic - I knew of Casablance from the Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Berman movie. I read Rick Steves’ book about Andalusia which had a section on it. I also read the U.S. State Department information. It is a little bigger than California - it is in northwest Africa across the Strait of Gibraltar from Spain. I did know that this had been a strategic position to control trade in the Mediterranean and was important during WWII. I knew not to wear too much jewelry, don’t take pictures without asking, watch out for pick pockets.
The Berbers are the native population of Morocco. I vaguely remember learning or hearing about them in school - some of them were nomads. I think St. Augustine was a Berber or had Berber blood. Morocco was conquered by the Muslims centuries ago, and now Islam is the principle religion. Because of Morocco's strategic position on the Strait of Gibraltar, it has been invaded by European powers - mainly France and Spain. It gained freedom in the mid 1950s. The present King Mohammed VI is a progressive - working for economic reform, more open government, freedom of speech. His support of rights for women has been met with opposition from many Islamic fundamentalists.
Julie had told us to take a water bottle with us to stay hydrated so Beth and I headed off with a liter bottle of still water each. We met the others as we came out of our building, and we headed to the front of the reception area. There was a man standing near the door who pointed to a younger man on the phone near a van. This younger man turned out to be our tour guide - Ivan. After introductions all around, we piled into his van and we were off!
Ivan works for Toro Tours - I had read about them when I was researching the south of Spain. Here is what they say about Ivan:
"Ivan is one of life´s genuinely nice guys and we are so pleased to have him on the Toma Tours team. He is a completely multi-cultural gem, born in Madrid and then growing up in el Puerto de Santa Maria in Cadiz, before heading off to live in the UK, France and Germany, and eventually landing back here in Spain where he now calls Seville his home ... and that's in addition to having Spanish, Dutch, and British ancestry, phew! Ivan is a natural people person, and an experienced host through his Couchsurfing days. He has hosted people from 5 continents."
So today Ivan was hosting 7 of us - me and Beth, Julie's friend Charlene from work, and the folks from West Virginia - Tom & Sarah and Ralph & Debbie. Ralph had to leave on Wednesday so that is why we were doing a private tour to Morocco on Saturday.
Ivan talked about growing up in Cadiz - his father was a civil servant. He spoke about how important family and friends are to the Spanish. He said he learned to cook from being in the kitchen with his mother and grandmother. He likes to go to local markets in Jerez, where he lives now with his partner, and buy local produce to cook for friends. He told us that he attended University in Scotland. He has worked in Germany, UK, and France I think. He speaks three or four languages. He studied engineering but found that it was not satisfying. He liked interacting with people. So he returned to Spain and now contracts out his services for guided tours.
But he also said that although the Spanish people are close to their families and friends, they don't care about their neighbors or their countrymen. He feels they need to become more active - have a voice in what is going on in their country. I could hear the passion in his voice.
This conversation made the drive go quickly - for me anyway! We passed more beautiful countryside as we drove along the coast. We could see the Rock of Gibraltar and the African coast. It was an overcast day - which was fine with me. I was afraid it would be too hot and humid. Remember that I had paid 18 euro the night before for that suntan lotion!! I had slathered it all over me before we left.
Ivan parked the van in Tariffe, and we headed for the ferry. Ivan bought our tickets - we had to take our passports to a Moroccan policeman on board the ferry - he stamped them and then we could sit back a relax. I know not to sit backwards in a moving vehicle, but a couple of our group had some trouble with sea sickness.
When we arrived in Tangier, Ivan had arranged for a local Moroccan guide to take us around. We jumped in his minibus, and his driver took us on a quick tour of the new city. As it happened, King of Morocco, Mohamed VI, was coming to Tangier today to inspect the development of a new marina which will have facilities to handle large cruise ships. The King spends a lot of time in Tangier and is developing and expanding the port, but he wants to leave the historic old city intact. Work is also underway on a new marina for the fishing industry. I had read that this king was very progressive and had done good things for Morocco. The guide echoed this sentiment. Flags were flying; the waterfront area was decorated. Crowds were starting to gather. Police and military lined the main drag which is named for the King.
Our local guide told us that he had been afraid that the roadway would be closed when we arrived, and we would not be able to get into the city because of security.
Heading toward the old city. Lots of cats roaming around.
The white arch on the left is the entrance to the old city.
Since we hadn't eaten since meeting Ivan, we decided to eat first and tour the old city later. So we headed off to a restaurant. Along the way we passed many small dark shops - many had their products displayed on the street.
Beth and someone else tried to take a picture of some of the women selling their wares, but they were down from the mountain region and don't like having pictures taken - and they certainly let our group know it!
Ivan told us that they were taking us to a touristy restaurant because it would have the only rest rooms close to European standards. I was happy with this because I had read that it was not uncommon to suffer GI problems after eating in Moroccan restaurants. There was a band playing music - later they came around for donations. Ivan said we did not need to give them anything because we hadn't been able to see them - we were in another room - but I gave the fellow some loose change - everyone has to earn a living.
The food was quite good. There was a tomato based soup, lamb on a skewer - more like a lamb sausage, chicken with couscous, and plenty of bread. There was also mint tea and a dessert. The local beer was pretty good according to those who tried it.
Beth, Ralph, Debbie, Tom, Sarah, and Ivan. I cut out Charlene - sorry about that!
After making use of the restrooms, we started our tour of the old city. (When I am traveling, I never pass by a rest room - you never know where the next one will be!)
Thank goodness our local guide was 65 and out of shape! We were walking uphill - and my hips started complaining that it was a very steep hill!! I admit I am out of shape so this was a workout!! But the people and shops were fascinating.
We made it to the top of the hill! The death march was over! That is Tom on the right.
Notice the exquisite doorway with the flowering bushes on either side. There is also greenery on the rooftop garden.
All the laneways are narrow and the buildings are centuries old. The guide told us Morocco was founded by the Phoenicians. The closeness of the buildings provides some coolness in the hot dry climate. The local guide told us that there had been no rain all summer until the day before we arrived. He said the natives were celebrating the rain!
This is a burial chamber for an important Moroccan. I love the architecture and bright green color.
I was fascinated by the wooden doors.
Archway in city wall overlooking new fishing marina.
Guarding the entryway - you can look but can not go down.
Everything just seemed so old!
The local snake charmer with a cobra. He asked for a volunteer to pick up another small non-venomous snake. No one in our group volunteered, so, of course, I had to go up. Someone took a picture, but said they couldn't see the snake in it!!
The old men did tell me that I would have good luck if I showed the picture to my sons. So someone send me a copy!!
I wanted to take a picture of several little girls sitting on a step, but when I asked, they said no and started shaking their fingers at me.
This was Barbara Hutton's house - she was heiress to the Woolworth fortune. One of her seven husbands was Cary Grant.
This is the cafe where Mick Jagger smoked pot back in the day. Writers like Jack Kerouac and the Beat Generation hung out in this area "where anything goes" was the lifestyle. Made me think of my brother Jimmy who is a Kerouac fan.
Shop across from Cafe Baba- water pipes in the window.
Many doorways were colorfully decorated with tiles. Tom, Sarah, and Ralph.
Communal bakery - women get their baking ready and take it to these bakeries where it is put in the oven. Homes in this area do not have ovens. We saw women and children dropping off and picking up the family's baking. Imagine how hot it must get inside there - no air conditioning for these poor bakers!
Small 4 star hotel - look at the door and the metal grating on the windows.
Don't you love it?
Another 3 or 4 star hotel. Sarah on left, Charlene in center.
Intricate carving on doorways.
Heading downhill - must be slippery when wet!
Shop where the local guide probably received a commission for anything we bought. I didn't buy anything. I went outside because the shop was roasting hot - sweat was pouring down my back. Struck up a conversation with a local who eventually asked me to take him to the USA. He was very pleasant - toothless but pleasant initially - then insistent. The group finally came out, and I was rescued!
Beth had a friend as well - I can't remember what he was trying to sell her - they are very persistent even when you firmly say no.
We had about 30 minutes to shop. Everyone was interested in skin softening cream and saffron. I had a man trying to sell me linen blankets for 50 euro - then 40 euro - then 20 euro. I ducked into a cafe to get away from him. Tom and Ralph eventually sat down too, and we watched people go by. There was a slight shower but it cleared right up.
A group of tourists went by with their guide. The girls were dressed in shorts and halter tops. By this time our local guide had sat down with us. He told us that they were Brazilian tourists I think. We asked how he knew. He said Moroccans would never let their women walk around like that. So there!
The guide also told us that he had been out in Chicago working in a bank. Then they told him that he had to work overtime. He packed up and moved back to Morocco. There are some things more important than work he said - spending time with family and friends.
Shopping was done, and it was time to head back to the ferry.
The crowds were still gathered to see King Mohammed VI. People were standing on cars, walls, anything to see the King. Unfortunately, there were barricades up to keep the people - including us - back. We couldn't get through to go to the ferry.
Our guide knew some of the guards and tried to get them to let us through - but no luck. Charlene and Sarah are on the left heading into the crowd.
Our guide and Charlene.
Suddenly, there was cheering as a motorcade passed by. Everyone was straining to catch a glimpse of Mohammed VI. But then the pushing and shoving started. I hadn't been nervous or afraid at all until that minute. We were caught up in a wall of people - some of them with suitcases they were pulling behind them. The guards were not opening the barricades, but the people behind me were pushing me forward. I was afraid of tripping over one of the small suitcases. The guide started yelling at a woman trying to push through the crowd - she was yelling back - I think he put out an arm to stop her, and she hit him. He was yelling at the guards that he had a group of Americans who needed to get to the ferry. People around me started muttering and complaining about Americans - I didn't need to speak Arabic or their language to understand what they were saying. People continued to push me forward even thought there was no where to go. I can understand now how people can be killed in crowds like this - if I ever fell down, people would just stampede over me.
Finally the barricades were opened and people streamed forward. We rushed off to the ferry.
I sat by myself across the aisle from the group. My hips were complaining that they needed a rest. The ferry was pretty full, and I enjoyed watching the kids running around. There were many women in gowns and scarves - I wanted to reach out and touch the material - it looked beautiful. There were a lot of families - I was watching how the parents interacted with their children and the other children. It was heartwarming to see the kindness and affection they showed all the children - especially the men.
Ivan had a strategy for when we got off the ferry - run like hell to immigration and customs to try to get to the head of the line. I can't do much running on a good day. Now, after a week of walking all day every day, I had to run?!?! This would definitely be the end of me.
Ivan gave the signal, and we all jumped up and headed downstairs to wait for the ferry to land, and the door to open. Of course, everyone else had the same idea. There was more pushing and shoving - and some of these people were old ladies!! They elbowed and forced their way right past me. We were between parked cars. Now the owners started climbing in and turning on the engines. Holy God! Between the shoving, the exhaust, the heat - I would run like hell just to get out of there!!
The doors opened, and the herd moved out. Everyone was running. Obviously, everyone outran me. My artificial hips were cracking so I had to stop running and try a fast walk. Immigration turned out not to be too bad for us. It was worse for the Moroccans returning to or visiting Spain.
I can barely remember the drive back to the timeshare. I gave Ivan 10 euro and promised to leave him my Rick Steves' book on southern Spain. He had told us that he had gone to a local library for a tour book, and it was dated 1972!
Joan or Julie got me a glass of wine when we got back to the timeshare - I had collapsed into an armchair. We had planned to meet the others in the bar, but I knew that I couldn't walk down there. So we had a drink in the room. The others came by to pick up shopping that Julie and Joan had done for them.
My bed looked inviting that night! My only regret was that we never had a picture taken with a camel!! Touristy I admit but I would have done it!
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