Our Introduction to Morocco

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The alarm rang at 0430 and the cab to Newcastle Airport showed up at 0500. Again the weather was cold but the rain had let off a bit. Check in at Easy Jet was not nearly as difficult as the “Airport” TV programme had me thinking it might be and we were on board and ready to take off at 0700. The flight attendant in charge was a Scotsman and his introduction had the plane in stitches - the highlights of which were “Please pay attention to the safety demonstration - you may already know it but our staff need the practice”, “Easy Jet employ some of the finest flight attendants in the industry - unfortunately none of them are on this plane”, “We have in-flight duty free - you can find a catalogue of these overpriced items at the back of the in-flight magazine. The magazine is free - the only free thing you will ever get with Easy Jet.” And then on landing in Malaga, Spain, “Thank you for flying Easy Jet, we hope you enjoyed paying for the flight as much as we have enjoyed taking you for a ride.” “Please remain seated until the captain has turned off the seatbelt sign. The plane may need to stop suddenly and we don’t want you to arrive at the terminal before the plane”, “Please ensure you take all your personal items with you when you leave the aircraft - Any items remaining will be split evenly between the underpaid staff - this does not apply to children” and finally “We have just been told we have someone on board celebrating their 80th birthday - and this is their first ever time on a plane…. So, if you see the captain on the way out please wish him a happy birthday.” The plane burst into applause.

We went through customs and got a bus to the main bus terminal in Malaga to buy a ticket to Algeciras where we were hoping to get a ferry to Tangier, Morocco. The bus took about an hour and a half and left 40 minutes late so by the time we arrived in Algeciras it was 1630. We found our way to the port and bought our three ferry tickets off a bloke standing outside the terminal. The “fast ferry” left at 1730 - we went through customs and boarded on time. By 1830 we were in Tangier.

Our Lonely Planet guide had warned about touts at the wharf offering tours, accommodation and restaurants. We politely declined a few (along with a number of cab drivers), found an ATM and walked out of the port. It took us all of five minutes to become lost in the local market night. We had five or six touts offering their services and eventually I found one that seemed almost trustworthy. He promised to take us to the hotel we were looking for or we would not have to pay him. Jo and Paul didn’t look too happy about our new employee but we were lost so I figured it best that we try to get our bearings - even if we needed a tout to do so. Sure enough, we found the “Hotel Hollanda” and negotiated a rate for the three of us in a room. The shower and toilet were the same cubicle and the room was a little damp but we were ready to take our backpacks off so we stayed.

Mustaff our “guide” was waiting outside wanting to show us around. I spoke to Jo and Paul and we decided to tell him that we were going to pay him 50Dh (NZ$10) to show us around - no more. We locked our bags in our pacsafes and tied them to the wardrobe and headed off with Mustaff. He kept showing me his “official identification” tag but when I read that his profession was “employed” I began to doubt his authenticity. Still - he knew the area and showed us around the Casbah and Medina. Wednesday night was market night so it was bustling with hawkers selling foods such as olives, cheeses, spices, poultry, meats and fish as well as clothing, groceries and shoes.

Arsenal were at home to Real Madrid in the Champions League so we asked Mustaff if he could take us somewhere to watch the game. We ended up in a tearoom packed with 30 or so young Moroccan Real Madrid supporters watching on a 24” television in the corner. The old man that ran the shop was as “typical” a Moroccan as you could expect. He was 60 or 70 odd and dressed in the traditional robes and headdress. Mustaff and I had mint tea and Paul had a coke. We watched the first half and I was really enjoying this true Moroccan experience. Unfortunately a couple of hash smoking youths at the back of the room were staring at Jo and she was feeling uncomfortable so we left at halftime. I doubted at the time that we would be able to beat that time in the tearoom in terms of a true Moroccan experience.

Next stop was a restaurant where we had a four course set meal of vegetable soup, chicken and egg pie, couscous and cookies. We wanted to watch the second half of the soccer so Mustaff arranged with the staff for us to eat in the foyer where there was a TV. The meal was superb and just to top it off, Arsenal drew 0-0 with Madrid to make the European Cup semi-finals. On the way back through the Medina, Mustaff took us in to a spice shop where a bloke showed us the uses for the spices and oils. He spoke fairly good English and we bought some black cumin seeds which were apparently good for sinuses - as I was still blocked up with a bit of a cold it seemed appropriate.

Mustaff dropped us back at the hotel where I passed him the 50Dh we agreed on. We both left happy. It had been a hell of a day - I really enjoyed my first glimpse of Morocco although Jo wasn’t nearly as impressed.

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