A cheap night (2 euros) at Hotel Al Atlas, Dakhla. A whole morning at Hotel Sahara waiting for my ride to Nouadhibou (Mauritania). To eat, nothing but bread and water. My last dirhams were just enough to pay for the fare. At 3pm a kind soul took my bags and I to the police check point outside Dakhla. By the road I waited, and waited, and waited. I had a ride but not the money demanded by the driver, a cheeky young Mauritanian with whom I didn't want to travel. One of the policemen took over the situation. He promised me [View Full Entry]

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My days in the Maghreb drew to a close. Mixed feelings. Anxiety - what lies beyond? Nostalgia - will this country ever leave me? Hurry - when will I get to Kenya? At Hotel Smara, just off the ramparts, Julie and Geraldine - two frenchgirls I met in Marrakech - waited for me. Despite the grey sky, they had good news. They'd met a nice moroccan guy who invited us for tea at a friend's restaurant. His name was Hassan. Craftsmanship was in his blood. Son of an artisan, he personified all I'd read about Africa. Tradition, heritage, tradition. He introduced [View Full Entry]

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As I got off the air-con CTM bus, Marrakech greeted me with a hot 2pm breeze. The stop was a half an hour walk from the Medina (‘Old’ Town). On the way I looked for Morocco everywhere but all I could see were mediterranean-style buildings, large avenues, proper sidewalks, neat and tidy cafes, aseptic hotels. I stopped under a tree by the Cyber Park (yes! A Cyber Park!). It was just a park like any other well-kept one. The difference were its donors: Siemens, Philips, Microsoft, etc. I saw ALSA local buses and countless mops drive past. I saw specks of [View Full Entry]

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They may not be the Morocco you wanna see, but still, at some point, you'll have to come over here. In my case, I needed visas to Mauritania. Invaluable 'Africa on a Shoestring' told me to swap Fes for Rabat on a Sunday afternoon and make it to the Mauritanian Embassy as early as Monday 9am. So did I. It was 8 something when I got off the bus and saw the big sign for the Souissi II University. It didn't look at all like an embassy! No problems! I hailed a cab and reached the CORRECT address in time to [View Full Entry]

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Welcome to Fes! You see this impressive blue and green tiled door? This is Bab Bou Jeloud. The entrance to Fes el-Bali. The Old Fes. It's Tuesday, 4pm. It's pretty dusty. Two hotels to the right. One, fully booked. The other, expensive. Now, turn right. Walk down. Hotel Lamrani. Little silver haired Mohammed says hello. Put your bags down. You've got a place to sleep and take a (cold) shower. Back in the streets. People don't stop. People drink. People shout. People run. People watch people. People talk to people. Close your eyes. Smell the spices. Can you hear the muezzins' [View Full Entry]

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Monday morning. The bus to Chefchauoen left Tangier at 8am. A short bald man took over the aisle. Standing right next to me, he started his speech. He shouted and gesticulated as if preaching the Khoran. I couldn't understand a word, but prefered to pay careful attention to him. After much blah-blah-blah, he fished out of his suitcase a handful of small plastic bags: he was just trying to sell his cough pills! An hour and a half later we arrived at Tetouan. Outside, a stranger waived frantically to me. Hesitating, I jumped off the bus. He told me to fetch [View Full Entry]

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I was a bit apprehensive when I got to Algeciras. It was around 1pm. The sun was merciless. On pondering whether to go to Ceuta or Tangier, I imbued myself with the utmost courage - that is, I learned that the ticket to Tangier was half the price of the one to Ceuta -, got my bags and, off to the port. In the lounge, right before getting on the ferry, I met Ewa and Kasia (both from Krakow). We seemed to be the only non-moroccans bound to Tangier that Saturday afternoon. The other weary fellow passengers were no more than [View Full Entry]

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