New York to Morocco

Africa » Morocco
May 18th 2002

Published: December 8th 2005

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johnb

Manhattan

The ghosts of Times Square

Once we left Puerta Vallarta we returned to Mecixo City, spent a night, then flew up to New York where we spent 5 days. I fell in love with the place immediately. We stayed near Times Square and did the usual tourist activities such as walking around Central Park, the Guggenheim, all the Villages, Brooklyn Bridge etc. Can't wait to return. Next stop is Morocco.

We entered Morocco via Casablanca, spent the night then got the first train out to Marrakesh some four hours away. Our time in Marrakesh was spent at a psychedelic little hotel just off the frantic main square, down a very narrow laneway. The rooftop gave panoramic views over the mainly terracotta-coloured city, a date palm here and there, and a backdrop of the snow-covered High Atlas Mountains. A nice place where we sat and had our breakfast of OJ, coffee and chocolate croissants. How very civilized. In the centre of town is the large L-shaped square named Djemaa el- Fna which comes to life just before sundown with dozens of food stalls smoking away filling the air with wafts of cooking meats, spices and seafood. All around this are jugglers, storytellers, snake-charmers, magicians, acrobats, card

Manhattan

readers, fresh juice stalls and hundreds of people making a jumble of sights, smells and sounds. Exploring the souqs was the main pass-time, as was eating at the numerous food houses and stalls.

Following Marrakesh we left town on a small tour with about 16 others on our 4-day adventure. We left the city and drove into the green foothills of the mountains dotted with numerous medieval villages surrounded by olive groves and terraces full of wheat, cactus, herbs and red poppies. As we gradually ascended the mountain range the greenery gave way to rugged peaks dusted with fresh snow. The scenery was spectacular, and even in these high
altitudes where the road wound in hairpin curves there were handicraft stalls sitting precariously on the edge of cliffs selling painted ceramics, beaded jewellery and fossils. Once the road took us over the pass the landscape transformed into something that resembled the surface of the moon. One place we
stopped at was Ait Bedhaddou, a medieval kasbah made of clay, built into the side of a hill. We learned that as many as 20 films used this place as a backdrop for shots, including Lawrence of Arabia and Jesus of

Manhattan

Nazareth. The place was just stunning. There isn't a great deal to do here other than wander its many narrow dusty lanes, and peek into the locals mud homes and a couple of antique stores. The view from the villages upper levels is stunnning.

After several more hours driving through the stony desert we arrived at a small town and hopped onto the backs of some very unhappy camels. Poor things needed a good feed and hose-down. For a very uncomfortable two hours we rode up a stony dry riverbed through the palm groves and made it to a small cluster of Berber tents pitched amongst the small sand dunes. By this time the sun had gone down and the temperature became pleasantly cool for us to sit out on a long flying carpet under the moon and stars sipping a freshly made sugary mint tea. After our dinner of chicken tagine and more mint tea we sat around discussing how nice it would be to sleep outside of the tents under the shooting stars, so at bedtime we took our thin foam 'mattresses', sheets and rock-hard pillows from the tent and set up beds on the cool sand,

Manhattan

World Financial Centre

made ourselves comfortable and lay gazing at the stars, breathing the fresh desert air while listening to some distant Berber men singing or chanting. Magical. The breeze had picked up substantially and was blowing sand everywhere so Dean and I moved back into the tent for more protection. By this stage I was covered in sand from head to toe and even inside the wind still blew that God-awful sand into my ears, eyes, hair, under the sheets - you just couldn't get away from it. It was turning into a bit of a sand storm. "It's all part of the experience" I kept telling myself.
So between being sand-blasted all night and listening to a heavy-snoring Frenchman, I didn't get much sleep that night. The following morning we noticed our tans were a few shades lighter from the thick layer of sand on our bodies. It was quite funny.

Breakfast consisted of more mint tea and crunchy stale flat bread. Crunchy from the sand. Yum. Then it was back onto our animal transport to the mini-bus.
Our drive took us further and deeper into the stony desert in the high heat with nothing more to see than the

Manhattan

Somewhere in Chinatown

mirage on the horizon. Eventually we started seeing the orange dunes of the Sahara, and once close to them, realising how huge there were. We stopped at a small mudbrick 'hotel' in Merzouga at the edge of the dunes and hopped onto more camels but after 10 minutes my backside could hold out no longer so I jumped off the animal, took off my sandals and walked alongside the camel-train. A few others joined me, and thankfully it was a short 45 minutes or so to the Berber tent hidden away between the huge sand dunes. Thankfully that night there was no wind and no snoring so it was a pleasant nights sleep. We were woken next morning early enough to climb a dune and sit and watch the sunrise. Simply magical. It was incredibly peaceful up there. The light changing on the dunes as the sun rose was breathtaking. Quite a few photo's were taken that morning. Following the 'light show' we packed our things, most of us walking our camels this time out of the dunes.
The remainder of that day was spent driving back into the mountains, stopping at Todra Gorge - an impressive 300m deep, ochre-coloured

Marrakesh - Morocco

In the depths of the souq

gorge with a clear cold creek running through it. Very nice spot. At the end of the day we arrived at our hotel at another gorge (Dadés). First thing everyone did once allocated a room was, you guessed it - shower. Two days out in the Sahara without a shower. At least my tan reappeared once I was clean.

Once we returned to Marrakesh it was the end of our little side trip, so we stayed the night in a hotel that reminded me of a scene from Alice in Wonderland. It had ceilings just higher than my shoulders and very high beds. It was quite funny. Dean looked positively tall and I looked like a giant. So we left Marrakesh behind us and headed west a few hours on the train to Essaouira, a town on the very windy coast. It wasn't as busy and frantic as Marrakesh, a perfect place to relax sipping strong coffee at the many street cafés. We stayed in the medina, the old part of town surrounded by high fortress walls containing narrow
lanes, whitewashed houses with blue-painted doors, open squares, nice cafés and woodworkers sanding away at their craft. I'd have to

Marrakesh

A spot of sewing in the medina

say I enjoyed this city the most so far in our Moroccan travels. You can wander the numerous streets and alleys exploring, getting lost and found, discovering gorgeous little textile and handicraft shops where you wouldn't expect them - all without being hassled to buy. Unlike where we are now - Fés.

We arrived in Fés yesterday and for some reason I was under the impression it woud be in the middle of the desert. The city is in
two parts - old medina and the new town. We're staying in the new part of town which has long, wide tree-lined boulevardes with
outdoor restaurants and cafés. Quite European actually. Great to just sit and watch the world go by. For a few hours yesterday we went over to the medina, where all the action is, to explore the markets. Upon entering the medina walls we were bombarded by kids and adults tugging at our clothes
asking where we were from and telling us what areas to see. Dean has been here before and I only read about these faux 'guides' that
claim to be students practicing their english, following you around and then demanding a hefty payment for

Marrakesh

the privelige. You politely say you don't want a guide and want to walk around on your own, but 'no' is not an understood word. So you politely ignore them and most of them give up and leave you alone, but others just turn it all around, calling us snobs, stuck up or not polite and try to make you feel bad. This was just too overwhelming for us so we sat on a terrace restaurant for lunch overlooking the medina, then left and returned to the hotel to relax. Later last night we found a nice alfresco bar on the leafy boulevarde and sipped a few pints. Muslims don't tend to drink alcohol, and even though this is a Muslim country, there are hidden places that serve locally-made beer. Here in Fés it's a bit more relaxed, but when we stayed in a town called Meknes nearby, what looked like a cafe was actually a bar. You couldn't drink outside, and had to go through a red-curtained doorway (like some Japanese restaurants) and enter a dark sleazy smoke-filled room with blaring Moroccan-Arab music and
female prostitutes drifting between the tables. I'm sure a few of these 'ladies' were eyeing

Marrakesh

Just sit @ one of the roof-top terrace restaurants and watch the Square come alive at sundown

us off as a ticket out of the country. Sorry, not interested.
The beauty of the bars here in Fés, even though they're few and far between, is that you can sit outside and enjoy a beer (not the locals) and even have people offer you just about anything you need. As Dean said, you could furnish you home without getting out of your seat. As we sat I had my sandals cleaned (50 cents) From the wandering salesmen you can also buy varieties of nuts and fruits, individual cigarettes (why buy when you can just do it passively), scooters, clothes, chandeliers, thongs and Italian leather sandals, coat hangers, sweets, car-seat covers, rolls of leather and wall-paper, cooking utensils ... the list goes on. Perhaps Sydney should adopt this kind of services. Life would be so much easier.

So, anyway, thismorning we hired an official guide from the Tourist Office and were led around the medina - hassle-free. At least with these official guides you don't get harrassed, and you can walk with them feeling relaxed. The faux guides go to prison if they are caught, and once they see you with an official guide, you aren't even looked

Marrakesh

Djemaa el-Fna

at. Today's experience of the medina was a lot more pleasurable and interesting as the guide explained the history of certain places. Today we saw the worlds first library and university, dating back to the 9th century.

From Fes we go a bus up to a little town called Chefchaouen way up in the cool and rocky Rif Mountains that are often enshrouded by clouds. This place was just stunning. The whole town is built on the side of the mountain with incredible views over the wide valley to the even higher mountains opposite. As usual we
stayed in the medina, the old part of town surrounded by high walls, where all the character is preserved. The town centre is a gorgeous little cobbled square shaded by centuries-old mulberry trees, where you just sit at one of the cafes and watch the world go by. Radiating out from the square is a maze of alleys all surrounded by small plaster-covered houses painted in washed blue and white. Picture something like the white houses on the Greek Islands - only a bit more primitive. The colours were absolutely amazing - truly a photographers delight. I was drooling! After our couple