Morocco is a fantastic country and lives up to its reputation of vast sandy deserts, palmfilled oasis under a starry sky and cities that take you back in time. So close to Europe yet so far, it is where Africa begins and as soon as you arrive you know it and everything feels magical.
Your senses are overwhelmed with smells of exotic spices in its towns, the sound of drums at night in the middle of the desert, the sight of a village made entirely from mud at the foot of magnificent snow-peaked mountains, the flavour of cinnamon in your first tagine and the touch of elegant silky cloth made in a nearby berber village.
Morocco is also a country from which many leave with mixed feelings. It is a place that you can fall in love with or a place where you're happy you made the journey but glad to have left.
The pestering of salesmen can be so intense in cities and desert alike that you can forget the beauty that surrounds you.
We began our journey in the Spanish enclave of Ceuta on the Northern shores of the country. I remember very clearly warning Jose about the cons and cheating he could expect in Morocco and telling him that anyone who approaches us could be trying to cheat us. As soon as we stepped off the boat, Jose fell into the welcoming hands of a con artist - and at this point we hadn't even arrived in Morocco!
Nevertheless, we made it to the Ceuta-Morocco border within a short period of time and I was surprised to see that the frontier was crowded with people all over the place, some carrying live chickens, some with enormous sacks of vegetables and others with all other types of goods that can be trasnported by hand. There was no order at all and we noticed that there were fences and queues. Unsure which queue we should join, a kind man noticed our confusion and sent us to what seemed like the express queue. We stood in the queue observing the many Moroccan men sitting ontop of a hill just across the border.
We arrived on Moroccan land and jumped in a taxi which took us to a nearby town from which we then caught a bus to a village called Chefchaouen. The bus ride was pleasant and I remember passing through pleasant scenery including a beach with a camel on it and green hills covered with olive trees.
Chefchaouen has a pretty setting as it sits high up in the hills overlooking a valley. The village is painted in bright blues and whites reminiscent of the Greek islands. The atmosphere, however, is very much Arab with its souqs of spices, dyes and carpets. You are also offered cannabis on every street corner. This area of Morocco is one of the leading areas of the country for its production and it is widely available.
It was in this village also that we very dangerously entered a carpet shop - well, jose entered and I followed hoping to rescue him! Once you enter a shop in Morocco, it is very difficult to leave empty handed if you do not know the correct technique. Anyway, 10 000 carpets and 10 000 "no we don't want one's" later, we began to walk towards the exit. At this point the man began begging and eventually became rather aggresive. We left quickly at that point!
We left Chefchaouen on a rusty old bus full of dust. The bus was packed, the foreigners - us, a Greek and Spanish girl and some Norwegians - were all seated at the back. It was March and probably about 30C outside. There was no air conditionning and all the windows were closed. After roughly 1 hour, I began to feel quite sick and continued to feel that way until we finally stopped at a village shop. The door of the bus oponed and I and the Spanish girl both ran out of the bus for some air. At that point I realised that I wans't the only one feeling sick. All back on the bus and another hour passed....and at last the bus driver opened the top window and all the people on the bus let out a "aaaahhhhh" of relief, which was quite amusing! The final part of the bus trip involved a conversation with an old Moroccan lady....although I didn't understand a bleeding word, although I'm sure everything she was saying was nice. I just nodded and agreed with everything!
After what seemed like the bus trip of a lifetime, we arrived in the city of Fes. We couldn't understand why none of the taxis drivers would let us in their cars until we had a good look at the city map and realised that we were asking them to take us just across the road - literally!
We entered the old part of the city through traditional Arab-style arches. The scene was fantastic - and straight out of a children's story like Aladdin. The maze of narrow streets was complete with everything you can imagine in an ancient Arab city and it was like walking under an arch and going back in time. The first street displayed vegetables all over the place; on the floor, in bags, on rugs, on people's heads etc etc. This was followed by a less pleasant scene of cows skinned and hung up, flies buzzing around them, goat's head and chickens running around trying to save their lives - All part of the experience of course.
We checked into our hotel and assured the guide that followed us into the hotel that we would hire him - although we had no intention of doing so because of not knowing whether he is official or not. We ignored being told not to go out at night, and instead headed for some street food - some kind of flat bread stuffed with onions and spices. I have no idea what it was but it was absolutely gorgeous! The atmosphere was buzzing, the moon and stars shone bright, the sounds of exotic Arabic music were mezmerizing.
The next day, we decided to get ourselves lost in the labyrinth of alleyways. Somehow, we managed to find the tanneries where leather and whatever else is dyed. Ok...so it smells absolutely disgusting but it's great to see all the colours and the workers using their feet to drench the materials.
Once lost, we had no choice but to pay a man to help us find our way. He immediately took us to his friends spice shop of course. I was so angry to have fallen in a trap and refused to buy anything. However I later regretted not buying one particular spice mix which smelt wonderful. Silly me!
An evening later, we jumped on a bus and took a long night time journey which took us from the green hills which surround Fes, over the stark Middle Atlas mountains through snow-blanketed villages and down the other side, by which time the sun was rising, through the palmfilled oases of the Sub-saharan desert and finally reaching our destination - the dunes of Merzouga on the Algerian border.
We were taken across black stoney desert until reaching those breathtaking sandunes which appeared to spill over. It was here where they filmed the desert scenery of "The Mummy." There is not much out here - a few sparse hotels in Kasbah style and tents which accommodate the tourists at the edge of the dunes, but no shops or amenities. Without hesitation, we dumped our luggage in our tent where we would spenf the night under the stars, and headed out into the sea of sand on camels. Unfortuntaley I ended up with the stupid camel who kept sitting down and not wanting to go anywhere. I noticed that the sky seems so blue out here and that the only thing you hear apart from the occasional spluttering of the camel, is the wind. The land feels so empty. In fact it's strange how something so monotonous and empty can be so beautiful.
We said goodbye to the sand desert and hello to a mud village called Ait Benhaddou further down the road and at the foot of the snowcapped High Atlas Mountains right in the heart of the country. The setting here was also used for many films including "Lawrence of Arabia", "Jesus of Nazareth", "Gladiator" etc etc... and it is easy to see way they would want to film here. The village is made entirely of mud and it really does feel like you've stepped back in time.
The children stop to help you across the shallow river which cuts through the village and ask for bakshish (a tip) whilst the passing by of Tuaregs in their sky-blue headscarves and on camels adds to the beauty of the scenery.
My friend Jose was conned here; one night our hotel owners invited us to look at their shop - just us of course so we would have the whole shop to ourselves. We happily looked around and then sat down to discuss the things we liked and the prices that we would be happy to pay. I particularly liked a ring I had picked up and was shocked at the price the two men were asking of me. I tried to negotiate and the men would not lower the price to make it more reasonable. At this point I realised that they were out to rob us and I refused to negotiate anymore and no longer had any interest in the ring. Jose on the other hand was interested in a few products and paid not only the requested price, but also handed over some of his clothes in exchange for the products.
The next day, we found the same products in other shops for half the price that had finally been negotiated and without having to trade any clothes in.
Jose felt very much cheated and lied to and did not hesitate to demonstrate his anger back at the hotel.
We left behind the con artists and embarked on a 4 hour trip over the barren High Atlas mountains and into the city of Marrakesh. The city reminded us very much of Fes but its highlight being the Jemaa el Fna and especially when the sun sets and the square comes to life with snake charmers, story tellers, transvesite bellydancers and the dozens of stalls cooking up all sorts of exotic foods. This scene of entertainment which has gone on for hundreds of years was a perfect way to end our trip before heading back to Spain.
1 comment:
Ive read this topic for some blogs. But I think this is more informative.
Post a Comment