Morocco - not Japan

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Kids,
It certainly has been a while. And for those of you who still (care to) remember us, I apologise. Last we left off I think I was promising a Berliner tale… well basically, it’s too long ago now to mention - so I shouldn’t of. Xmas and NYE were rather large affairs around these parts. Spent Xmas at Pete n Jess’ in Notting Hill with about a dozen other ex-pats from all over (ok - trying to sound more exotic then it really was… mostly Australians… and there was even one with red hair…). Not your traditional family xmas - retiring at 6am - but a whole heap more enjoyable. NYE was a 1920’s themed party out in Bow. Whilst more accustomed to how I spend NYE, the lack of good weather was only somewhat compensated for with an accessible supply of fireworks (Why would they ban these?! Albeit seems to be UK based Australian’s are the only dickheads with them).

Ok, now for what I thought was worth sitting down and writing for (even though it was now 2 months ago - but I started writing this a while ago). In January Teresa went back to Aus for a little over a month for her sis’s 21st, and sun. I on the other hand attempted to endure an incredibly mild winter. Didn’t last long, as my mate KJ (aka Jizzler) and I went to Morocco for the week.

We flew out of the UK first thing Sunday morning (in rather a state still from the previous birthday party on Friday…) - and looking forward to a relatively beer free weekend.

We arrived in Marrakech and stayed in Riad (a Moroccan style guesthouse - built around a courtyard, and have a roof terrace) not far from the enormous public square Djemaa el fena. Luck had it that we met a man from our Riad at the airport (whilst he was picking up other guests who weren’t so tight to pay his airport pickup charge) who arranged to meet us in near the square to take us to our Riad. Through the square, to the left of the juice sellers, head towards the antique souks, until you see a narrow lane, done the narrow lane (the lane that’s full of carpets/tea pots/incense/cloth… non-too-unique in these parts), left when you can’t go any further, err 2nd right, err… a left, right, right, right, no not that dead end, not the other either, through some low tunnel that’s pitch black by day, out towards another dead end… luckily this dead-end has a door to the riad. This was seriously difficult place to find, and I’ll bet that many guests with booked accommodation have ditched it in favour of something else they’ve found after a few hours of trying to find it. BTW - it was a sweet pad though, and well worth the effort.

Djemaa el fena is full of snake-charmers, story tellers, food stalls, and locals trying to rip off tourists. Never have I been anywhere that hassles foreigners as much. Thought I knew how to barter… these guys took me to school. And every 2 mins you’ll have someone asking “English? American? Australian?”, my usual response was “Japanese”. Every 5 mins you’d get “Hashish?”. Discovered Tagine dishes here too - something I revisited daily during this trip.

So after a few days in Marrakech soaking up the amazing 22-degree winter weather, we jumped in a car and headed for the mountains. We drove across the Atlas mountains, cutting through some snow and passing scene-upon-scene of amazing mountain views - that KJ wanted to stop and take a picture of each… which wasn’t so bad apart from on any secluded part of the road, if you stand still long enough a Berber (3-toothed mountain Moroccans with a handful of shiny rocks) will come out of nowhere and try to sell you something.



Crossed the mountains after a few hours, where mountains gave way to stony arid desert. Got hailed down by a group men on the side of the road with ‘what appeared like’ a broken down car (hailed down is a little subtle - had someone jump in front of the car). They needed to send their friend onto the next town Ouzazate to get another friend to get parts for them. Reluctantly we said ok and drove this guys 20mins down the road. Majority of our conversation was in French… which he didn’t speak either… In a little village outside of Aït Benhaddou (has the thousand-year-old Kasbah) where he insisted his cousin take us in for some mint-tea (with a shortage of beer this is what we drank copious amounts of). So we took up the offer of some famous Moroccan hospitality (met travellers who’d been invited in to homes for meals for saying hello). So there we were sitting in some Moroccan family home - legs crossed on some rugs chatting with a Moroccan man and his son. This was all very nice, and he seemed a genuine and interesting guy - until we got onto the topic of carpets… He took as into his… err… carpet den? Where he showed as a heap of rugs he’d bought in from the desert (by camel no less)… and basically the next 20 mins were spent explaining we didn’t want a freakin rug! Got out relatively unscathed, but have to admire a scam they’ve put a bit of effort into. Oh - the Kasbah was fantastic (think it was used in the Gladiator filmset), as you’ll prob see in the pics, it’s not your typical European castle.

The following day we drove to Todra Gorge - an amazing stretch of road that wove back into the mountains across rivers (that annually wash the road away) and around goat herders, walled in by huge red cliffs. I love taking hire cars places you’d never take your own.

Big days drive ahead as we made our way to back through the stony-arid desert and across to the Anti-Atlas mountains (a slightly smaller range off the Atlas mountains), where we spent the night in Taliouine. This certainly wasn’t a destination we’d planned to stay at, but it was fantastic if for nothing else in that it had about 2 places to stay and had only a trickle of the tourist trade. No one hassled you in the street, apart from an inquisitive look followed up by a smile, or occasionally to practice a bit of English like “Good evening”. Made a fantastic change to see a bit of ordinary Moroccan life away from the touts that survive off the tourist hordes. Climbed a hill here too - took some pics - watched a sunset… life without beer eh…..

The next day was onto the Atlantic coast. We drove to Agadir - and everything we heard looked so unbelievably true that we didn’t even stop (a dirty-dirty tourist trap for thong-wearing European tourists surrounded by grubby industrial sites). Apart from (for the meantime) a lack of towering apartment blocks, it reminded me of the Gold Coast. We drove north of Agadir along a coastal road with swathes of land cleared on the coastal side - awaiting the next enormous tacky hotel. It wasn’t long before we hit our destination Taghazoute, a little surfing village with AMAZING seafood. This place is much more laid back - but certainly has it’s fair trade of tourism in the form of hippies and surfers. Stayed in what was the 2nd diviest dive I’ve ever stayed in (the first is a bungalow with a hole in the roof, holes in the mosquito net, and a 12-inch lizard on the wall on an isolate beach in Thailand). But on the plus side (as with first place) it was all about location - as we had a balcony (well it was also the kitchen/dining/lounge/bathroom) that overlooked the beach. Took a trip a little further north around sunset to Killer Point as you could see the surf completely rippin there from Taghazoute (Sco, it was totally gnarly). Some amazing barrels consistently around 3m. Had a few guys out there carving it up - and a whole heap more too scared to go in it (I left my board at home… that’s why I was watchin from the bench).

After more unbelievable seafood (saffron calamari grilled on the bbq - OMG!) we made our way towards the town Essaouira. Back on the well defined tourist run here, but it really is a nice place. A walled city/fort on a point out into the ocean, covered in whirring sea gulls (Bridger, I believe they were Yellow Legged Gulls). Found a nice hotel within the walled city to stay - fantastic roof terrasse. And a cool little restaurant at the end of a seedy dead end ally (great place to walk down after vehemently rejecting some hashish from someone who didn’t take it too well) where I left on a tagine high (no, not hasish tagine).

Now… just waiting for summer… (oh - living in Notting Hill with Pete n Jess. Not far from Hyde/Holland Park… so hopefully sun will come out in the next 6-months to make the most of it).

Take it easy kids

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Photos

El Badi Palace, Marrakech
Hanging out in the masive courtyard (lookin overly artistic through a fish-eye lense)

High Atlas Mountains
A berber's hut beside the road through the moutains.

Ait Benhaddou Kasbah
Amazing old Kasbah near Ouzazate

Taghazout
View from our £10 per night accomo (serious though even £5 per night would've been overpriced)