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Published: April 5th 2014
Day 6 and we are at last in Morocco! Uncle Ray picked up the tickets yesterday so we only had to get on to the ferry, which is more of a job than you think. First the tom tom tries to send you down a service area which is locked, and then when you enter the port there’s no sign for Tangier-Med only Ceuta and Tangier. We followed the signs for Tangier and joined a queue, which turned out to be for the wrong ferry company, who were 3 hours behind. Once through the check in, there are absolutely no signs for which ferry is where are what lane you should be parked in!
But with bit of trial and error, we parked up in front of our ferry, just in time to watch all the guys shunting 40ft trailers, at bastard angles, up high ramps, from bright sun shine into a pitch black ferry hold, backwards! Thinking wow, sod that for a job, only to then be told to spin round and do the same! Except Dad who was small enough to go with the baby vehicles, but this did mean Uncle Ray and I were first off and
Dad was last.
But when you compare it to the ferry trip to Ceuta this one wins hands down. I know the drive on sounds bad but the Ceuta ferry has to be reversed off of at the other end. Customs in Ceuta are complete chaos with a mad scramble to get the paper work signed, have your truck checked and then join the fight to get the 6 lanes filtered down to one so you can fit out the gate, with touts constantly harassing you.
Tangier-Med is a complete contrast to this. First off you get your passport stamped on the ferry, and the vehicle paperwork and checks are done in a massive open area with not a single tout. Plus within 200 yards of the customs is a line of mini shops where you can exchange your money, or draw it from the cash machine and even buy your insurance. I have got to say when you’ve been through Ceuta, TM is almost too easy, but it did mean a nice calm entry in to Morocco.
One other benefit of using TM is that it meant I got to see a part of Morocco I
have never seen before. Even down to the road we took to get to Chefchouen was, what I would call, a true Moroccan road, unlike the road from Ceuta to Matil which was lined with prefect buildings and Power yacht showrooms. The N2 we took started with a bit of tarmac for the first mile, then turned into mud, then massive pot holes, only to return to being tarmac which had the edges missing. But we are all here, at the intended campsite, in Morocco.
Today we headed into town via the footpath, and not a single person bothered us on route. As we began to wonder around a few tried there luck but to no avail. But again I got to see a lot that I hadn't before, including the modern part of Chefchoauen and the main square, which was surrounded by cafe's and the main mosque. While the others got a taxi I walked back. I only found a couple of dead ends, but as I left the city wall and headed across to the campsite, and I came very close to walking through a funeral! Which would have been just a little awkward.
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