sailing - Gibraltar and Morocco

Africa » Morocco » Rabat-Salé-Zemmour-Zaer
May 29th 2013

Published: May 29th 2013

On Sep 21, 2011, I flew from Vancouver to London Stansted, Stansted to Jerez, Spain, and then from there, I was driven to Gibraltar. The Vancouver airport experience was one of the best airport experiences I’ve ever had. When I looked it up online, it turned out that it IS actually rated one of the best airports in the world. From there I flew to Stansted where I had the worst airport experience I’ve ever had. Everything was ghastly expensive. You have to pay to get your luggage weighed and luggage storage was well beyond anything I could afford. My connecting flight was the next day so at around 9:30pm, when the airport looked pretty empty, I went to sleep. When I woke up around 4am, I was so shocked to find that the airport was packed and not only were all the seats full but there were people sleeping everywhere on the ground. At around 5pm, security guards came and woke up all those who were sleeping on the ground. Apparently, you can’t lie or sit on the ground after 5am.

From Spain I went into Gibraltar and then back to Spain (La Linea), and I did this several times and nobody bothered to look at me let alone check my passport. Once, a customs officer did look at me and when she saw that I was Chinese, she asked for my passport. Also, when I left Gibraltar on a sailboat, we did not go through customs. I regret not asking the customs officer to stamp my passport. It would have been nice to see a Gibraltar stamp in my passport. I wonder if anybody gets stamped. Do they even have a stamp?

The sailboat I was on docked at Marina Bay. It was a 38’ Alajuela cutter from 1975. It is so much better than the Olhson 38. The way space is arranged inside is so much better and the deck is so much safer to walk on. I haven’t been on many boats but of all the boats I’ve been on, this was my favourite. (boats I’ve sailed: Catalina 309, Martin 244, Hunter 31, Catamaran Crowther 12.8m, Nautic-Saintonge 44’, Olhson 38, and 2 other sloops but not sure what they were.)

A hike up the Rock is a must when in Gibraltar. I tried jogging around the base of the Rock but there’s a section on the southeast side that is not accessible to pedestrians as it is a tunnel for cars only. It would be possible to continue on a trail up the Rock and down the other side but I was there around 11:30pm and the trail was pitch black. We went to an awesome Indian Restaurant not far from the marina and the convenience store near there sells all kinds of Indian spices and foods.

On the morning of Sep 30, 2011, the skipper and I (only 2 of us on the boat) sailed west-southwest through the Strait of Gibraltar toward Rabat, Morocco. It was mild in the beginning and then it got windier and windier. The wind was directly east (blowing out of the Mediterranean toward the Atlantic) and we gibed between southwest and northwest through the Strait. There were a lot of huge ocean freighters coming in and out of the Strait at superspeeds (compared to us) and since we were crossing the Strait, we had to cross the traffic lanes which was scary but interesting. We saw large cream coloured dolphins during the crossing. Wind was about 25-30 knots going through the Strait. Once through the Strait, we turned more south to sail down the west coast of Africa. The wind got stronger and it came off the continent but we had to sail abeam of the wind to go south which meant a very rocky ride The Alajuela sits very low in the water and because it was very windy with 3-4 meter waves, I got totally soaked. However, by 10pm, the wind died completely and we had to motor down the coast. We took 3 hour turns keeping watch. There was no moon so it was very dark but there were many fishing boats around so it was quite nerve wracking. Fog rolled in around 3am and it got even harder to see but I didn’t do that shift, thank god.

Rabat, Morocco

We got to Rabat at 1-2pm on Oct 1, 2011. The marina is in Salé which is separated from Rabat by a narrow river. It was my first time landing in a country by boat. I never noticed it till then that when a customs officer stamps your passport, it has the picture of either a plane or boat. Some countries have the word “porto” instead of a picture and some countries don’t have anything. In Morocco, they had a drug dog sniff out the boat upon entry and exit. The customs check included stamping people as well as the boat in/out. We looked for tourist info about Rabat and Morocco and couldn’t find anything in the city. The Office de Tourisme was totally useless. Internet has better info. Maps are available in convenience stores, stationery stores and bookstores. The tap water is clean to drink but really hard. I had no problems with it. I’m against bottled water so if you have a problem with hard water, I suggest boiling the water and then let it sit until the minerals sink to the bottom before drinking it.

The pollution from traffic was really bad, I was hardly able to breathe. I got totally lost in the market in Salé, it had so many branching alleyways. A local came to visit our boat and we served him tea but he didn’t drink it because it didn’t have sugar in it. In Morocco, coffee and tea are made with tons of sugar so always remember to put sugar in whatever you’re serving to locals. I remembered to ask for no sugar one time and my tea was still a little bit sweet. They just can’t imagine drinking anything with no sugar at all. Needless to say, diabetes is a very common problem here.

The Arab Spring in Morocco started a few years back with the Feb 20 Movement and protests for democratic reforms. The king of Morocco didn’t want any opposition or political disturbance so he changed the constitution on July 1, 2011. Before this change, anybody can be stopped at anytime anywhere by the secret police, even without provocation, and they had to obey. But now with the new constitution, everybody has rights so if a person is not doing anything wrong, they do not have to answer to the police.

The skipper of the Alajuela told me that one time when I was away, he invited many people onto the boat--locals and foreigners--after informing marina security. (In Rabat, only crews belonging to boats are allowed in the marina and guests must be cleared by security.) Two men in very up upscale suits (like the mafia) came on the boat and demanded everyone’s identity. They handed out forms for everyone to fill out. The locals said that they were the secret police or the king’s security forces. They told the two men that they have rights now and this was bullcrap and refused to fill out the forms. The skipper got really angry and said to the two men that he did not invite them on the boat and that he didn’t know who they were and asked them to leave (one never steps on a boat without the skipper’s permission), so they left. The locals said that after the constitutional change, they are no longer intimidated by the police.

Actually, now is the best time to travel in Morocco, I think, because, before the constitutional change, people were not allowed to hassle tourists, or rather, if you got hassled, you can easily ask for the police and people will stop hassling you. In general, people were very well behaved with tourists. However, after the constitutional change, there is more freedom and therefore, much more haggling and more aggressive behaviour, and I can imagine it will only get worse. But most people are still very well behaved around tourists so it’s probably a good time to travel in Morocco before things get worse. I guess freedom has its disadvantages. People are now free to do good as well as bad.

There are two ways to get to Rabat from Salé. One is to take the Rabat-Salé tramway which has a station right by the marina. It was 7 dirhams per trip and it’s very fast. The other is to walk from the marina to the shore of the river facing Rabat, to the right of the customs office. There are many fishing boats there and most of them will take you across for about 3 dirhams.

Trip to Tinghir through Marrakech

I had always thought that people in Morocco were Arabs which was wrong. 80%!a(MISSING)re Berbers and the rest are a mix of Arab and Berber. However, only 66%!s(MISSING)peak Berber (according to wiki). I met up with a couchsurfer (CSer) from Tinghir who was working in Rabat. I wanted to see the Atlas Mountains and he, Rachid, suggested I go stay with his family in Tinghir. His family does not speak English nor French but he said that a friend of his who speaks English happened to be in Tinghir for 2 weeks so he can be my interpreter. The journey to Tinghir would take 2 days so he also arranged for me to stay with a friend of his in Marrakech.

I took the 11:45am train in Rabat and got to Marrakech around 4pm. Rachid’s friend, Khawla, came to meet me at the train station. She took me by local bus to Jamaa El Fna which is the most famous place in Marrakech. There were many street performers, vendors and food stalls. The market went on forever. I only saw a bit of it as there wasn’t much time. We watched Berber musicians perform traditional songs and ate at “la tête de mouton”. She recommended a traditional dish of sheep brain, ligaments, etc. (stuff in the head). The plate was really small but because it was so strong and filling, neither of us finished our plate. She told me that sheep brain is extremely high in calories. Just a small amount will keep hunger away for a long time. (A survival tip for the future?)

Khawla lived with her grandmother, her uncle, her brother and her brother’s wife. When we got to her house, I asked her if I could take a shower. She said that their bathroom is not yet finished so she took me to the local hammam. It was like a large public shower with partially separating walls. Instead of shower heads, there were taps (so you’d need to bring a bucket and scoop). Women were sitting together with family and friends, chatting away while washing themselves. It looked like people were in there for a long time, washing and socializing at the same time. This woman saw me by myself and was shaking her head because I clearly didn’t know how to wash properly. She came over and scrubbed my back.

Khawla’s grandmother gave us dinner and mint tea. Women eat separately from the men so Khawla, her grandmother, her sister-in-law and I ate together. The mint tea was really good which was made with Chinese tea leaves (strong) and fresh mint leaves. I asked her to hold the tea leaves and sugar and just put the fresh mint in my tea. We watched some TV and I asked Khawla which program was Moroccan. We found programs from Egypt, Syria, Lebanon and other Arab countries but none from Morocco. I loved the savoury hot cereal we had for breakfast.

Khawla took me to the bus station which is just beside the train station. The bus for Tinghir was at 8:30am . It came but there was a mechanical problem. At 8:40am, with all the passengers on board, we left the station and the driver took us to the mechanic’s as the gearbox was not working, and we were there for 20 minutes. The scenery through the Atlas Mountains was beautiful. The mountains, hills and hillocks, in varying sizes and shapes, were composed of different colours such as red, green, beige, sand, and many shades of earth and dark brown. After the mountains, the land was just flat dry earth but there were oases and water in the ground (wells) because of the mountains close by. We passed by Ouarzazate and the CLS Studios where a lot of Hollywood movies are shot.

Tinghir

I reached Tinghir around 5pm. We couldn’t find Rachid’s friend who spoke English so another friend, Jamal, fetched me from the bus station. He took me through the Jewish quarter (abandoned ruins where only the very poor now live) to his village Halloul. We walked through farm fields to his sister’s house. Jamal now lives in France. His family was very very poor when he was young and he is the youngest of 11 children. He worked hard at getting an education and now he teaches Spanish in France. He was back for a visit and to help the young people in Halloul and in Morocco. He has written two books, “L’assiètte creuse” which was banned in Morocco, and “Sans Fautes”. He told me the story of his family.

We left the village when night fell to go back to Tinghir. We had to cross the farm fields in total darkness. Luckily, I always have my headlamp with me. It sits in my daypack whenever I’m travelling. It has always been extremely useful in unexpected occasions. As soon as we left the village area, he broke off a piece of some bamboo or sugar cane-like plant and made a large stick or bat with it. He said it’s for the dogs. I wasn’t sure what he meant but once we were in the middle of the field, I heard dogs everywhere but could not see a thing around me. My headlamp only lit up a few feet directly in front of me. He said there are too many stray dogs here and they can get dangerous at night. He said that it’s a problem everywhere in Morocco.

Jamal knew the path well so he walked quite fast. I was just able to keep up as there were holes, mud patches, and other obstacles along the way. To combat the noise of the dogs which was frightening, I talked loudly and kept him talking as well. Suddenly, someone who was beside us on the path called out Jamal’s name. I looked around but couldn’t see a thing, it was too dark. Jamal greeted him and asked how he knew it was him. He said that he recognized Jamal’s voice. We kept going. I wondered why that guy was sitting in the dark. However, because of his presence, I was less afraid of the dogs.

In town, we went to a cafe and had Moroccan soup with chicken and chickpeas. It was delicious. Jamal’s apartment was quite far on the other side of town. As we were walking down the main street, a friend of his in a car stopped and greeted him. He gave us a ride to Jamal’s apartment. The next morning, when we were walking back to town, the same guy happened to come by and gave us a ride again. We were all laughing at the coincidence. In town, Jamal left as he was busy. I finally met up with Lhoussaine, the one who spoke English. Like many of the young people in their twenties I met in Morocco, Lhoussaine had very strong opinions about their country’s situation and was very active in making changes.

Lhoussaine took me to Rachid’s family who lived in a kasbah. I looked up the definition of a kasbah and I’m not sure why they called it that. It did have a very high section on the roof where I could see the whole valley of Tinghir with all the mountains around. Rachid’s aunt pointed to an area on the other side of the valley and said that her family’s original kasbah was there, a much bigger one. About 80 years ago, the whole valley was flooded and their kasbah was destroyed. Her grandfather then built the kasbah we were in now. One of the things they saved from the old kasbah was the main door (inside the courtyard) which still served as the main door of the current kasbah. I could see that the door looked like something from medieval times. It was about 4 meters high and 3 meters wide, maybe bigger.

Rachid’s extended family lived in the Kasbah which has many sections and each immediate family lived in a different section. The room I stayed in was in a section separate from everyone else. Rachid has an aunt who is a spinster and she slept near the door in the room I was sleeping in. I think it was for safety purposes or in case I needed something because the bathroom was somewhere on the other side of the courtyard and I’m not sure I would have been able to find it in the dark. Also the kasbah is huge, I would totally get lost in it. Actually, even during the day, somebody always had to take me to the bathroom or to my room because I just couldn’t find them. One section had animals: a cow and her calf, a donkey and 2 goats. Another section was a very large garden with flowers, vegetables, fruit trees, nut trees, etc.

The women in the house did not speak English, nor French, and not even Arabic. They spoke only Berber (Amazigh). The men spoke Amazigh, Arabic and a little bit of French. The main language in Tinghir is Amazigh. The constitutional change in July 2011 included making Amazigh an official language. One of Rachid’s cousins was 8 years old and he showed me his Amazigh textbook which was added to the curriculum this year. Lhoussaine told me that it was all ridiculous because officially, it sounds good that Amazigh is now taught in schools but realistically, the students weren’t learning anything because none of the teachers knew Amazigh writing as it had been banned since 1956 when Morocco became independent and pursued a policy of Arabization. Therefore, generations grew up without any written Amazigh so the teachers now are learning along with the students. He also said that one is not allowed to give one’s children certain Amazigh names that have revolutionary connotations as the government will refuse to register a child with one of these names.

There are three Amazigh groups in Morocco each with their own dialect and the one taught in schools is standardized from the three. The family taught me some Amazigh such as “thank you”, “hello”, “okay”, etc. The uncle said to me, “Mei Zhinese” and I said, “yes” because I thought he was saying “Mei Chinese” with an Amazigh accent, but I wondered why he was trying to speak English. He repeated several times and I kept saying yes. It turned out that he was teaching me how to say “how are you” in Amazigh and wanted me to repeat it. Well, that was an easy one for me.

The next day, they drove me to the Todra (Todgha) Gorge where I saw rock climbing routes. It was quite spectacular. Every meal I had with the family was amazing. I’m not sure if they always eat so well or because I was there, the food was especially good. I spent an evening with the women in the kitchen asking about what they were cooking, how they cooked, etc. Lhoussaine, Rachid’s cousin Karim who was about 15, and the driver of their family business came to join us in the kitchen. They ended up drilling me about ways to emigrate to Canada.

<strong id="docs-internal-guid-27ab8c1b-f163-d58f-5298-bb2a0163a7b0" style="font-weight: normal;">The only bus to Marrakech from Tinghir is at 5:30am so I had to get up really early. It wasn’t a problem because they all woke up at 4:30 for prayers anyway. The bus back to Marrakech was much faster than the bus coming, and I was able to catch a train on the same day back to Rabat, and the returning train was faster than the one going as well. Once in Rabat, we shopped and prepared the boat for sailing to the Canary Islands. I got some stamps to send postcards and I couldn’t believe how expensive they were. Postage for an international postcard was about $2 CAD.

sailing - Gibraltar and Morocco

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