Originally we had planned to take an organised trip to Morocco from Algeciras in Spain (near Gibraltar) but ---indecisive tour operators and local advice had Masala and Nadine headed to Smir ‘Morocco bound'.
Our first excursion was the short minibus ride to Tetouan which has been reported separately. With that experience under our belts the Cookes and Coles planned their second and more ambitious tour of the northern half of Morocco. The organised eight day tour seemed a good place to begin. So the plan evolved, first a cab ride to Tangier followed by the overnight train to Marrakech. Two days in Marrakech then overland by four wheel drive for four days to Ouarzazate, Zagora, Merzouga, Midelt, Fes, and Meknes. Train back to Tangier and finally a cab to Smir. We covered over 2000kms of which 1200kms was by car across the Atlas Mountains in just 3.5 days
We were recomended to find transport and hotels as we went along, which proved to be surprisingly easy to do. First job was to find transport to Tanger (Tangier). Luckily a cab sits at the marina entrance every morning in case a marina client wants a cab, we needed two. We spoke to the driver who arranged for a second cab to collect us the following morning.
Day 1 started to plan with a cab ride to Tanger. What a start, we climbed over the top of the Rif Mountains to get our first glimpse the real Morocco. The roads in the towns were badly potholed and the houses seemed half finished or derelict. The mountain road building was interspersed by rock falls, some heavy machinery was employed to take care of this. The cost of building roads in this environment must be huge by our standards. As we descended towards Tanger we could see the clear blue waters of the Atlantic and our first glimpse of the varied styles of clothing worn by the different ethnic groups.
The cabs drivers dropped us at the railway station, had their photos taken, wished us well and said goodbye. We went inside to book our tickets for the 270 mile trip to Marrakech. The cost of first class including the couchette berth was just £18.60 (€25) each! We left our bags at the bus station, and discovered the difference between the price of a cab for locals and tourists. We took two ‘Petit Taxi', knackered old Fiat Uno diesels from the mid eighties, for the same journey of five minutes, Jeff was charged £2 and we were charged 40p.
We walked along the beach front towards the harbour and got harassed by a street seller. A smartly dressed man spoke to him and he went away, we thanked the man who ‘just happened' to be a local guide and hence ‘Abdul 1' became our guide around the city for the afternoon. Our conversations with Abdul surprised us.
In such a religious country we were amazed to hear that he had been married three times and was courting his fourth! We were to learn later in Marrakech that this was by no means unusual, many men complained that TV and the new King (who they held in unanimous praise) were responsible for the emancipation of women, so rather than put up with the problem you simply changed your wife.
The Tanger souk had a very different feel from Tetouan, not least we didn't have or need the services of a personal policeman! Kevin got tempted by the jahalabad which is the male equivalent of the female caftan, and ended up buying a grey one. He now alleges to be Obi Wan Kenobi (of Star Wars fame), sad puppet! We ended the day with a pleasant meal at a restaurant overlooking the souk which was now lit and as busy as ever. We hailed a ‘petit taxi and as one arrived the passenger got out. It transpired the cab driver dumped his fare for a tourist who pays more, and sure enough we paid £2 this time. We boarded the ‘Marrakech Express' and went to sleep humming a well known tune by Crosby Stills and Nash.
Day 2 We arrived at Marrakech at 09.40 and had to fight our way through the taxi drivers competing for the tourists. After a couple of abortive attempts to find the tourist information we were dropped off a small hotel recommended to us by an Australian girl on the train. The hotel was opposite the Giralda Tower of which the copy stands in Seville, and just a few hundred metres from the souk. The hotel reception organised another tour guide for us, ‘Abdul II' a lovely guy who really enjoys his job and Kevin became very friendly with. The souk was the most amazing yet and huge.
We wandered the souk for several hours as Abdul and Kevin chatted about every subject under the sun, not least the Moroccan reaction to the ‘cartoons' which were at the height of their controversy. We asked Abdul if he could recommend anyone for the trip south into the desert. Not only did he recommend them he arranged for them to meet us and he even chaired the meeting! Having concluded arrangements for the next part of the trip, Abdul II and the driver Abdul III took us for an evening tour of the city by car.
Day 3 Abdul III was due at 7am the following morning and until then we walked ourselves around Marrakech, although a busy place with lots of clearly very poor people, we felt absolutely safe and found the people charming and helpful wherever we went.
By now Kevin's French was improving rapidly, despite not having used it for nearly 20 years. Kevin was also drawing confused looks as he wandered around comfortably in his jahalabad. Certainly negotiations with locals were improving partly through becoming tougher with street sellers and partly through Kevin's appearance.
We spent the afternoon walking through the souk in the Jewish quarter, this time without a guide, where we saw the most colourful display of spices and beads. We spent a while watching four men seated in a small room bashing small bits of tin plate with hammers and punches producing components for a hanging lamps which were being soldered to completion.
Labour is so cheap nobody seems to use any machinery they don't need to in producing goods both for tourists and locals. What was becoming increasingly obvious was these people have never heard of the ‘Health and Safety at Work' act, as we cringed at some of their working practices. It was also not therefore surprising we saw an unexpectedly large number of men mostly with limb injuries, many of whom had taken to begging.
The Moroccans say there is no middle class, by our standards most of the people are lower working class, at or below the poverty line and those with cars and motorcycles no matter how old are the middle class. There are many beggars, who we believe beg mostly rather than work, some people have very very little and sell what they can to survive.
One old lady sat at the side of the road with just 6 small eggs and some biscuits for sale. Sara, unusually for her, felt compelled to give her 10 Dirham, about 65p. We were astonished by the old ladies gratitude which made us all feel guilty and realise just how wealthy we really are in a global context. By contrast a few hundred metres away a snake charmer had tried to persuade us to give him 2000 Dirham (£12) just to have his picture taken.
Fools beware, these people may be poor but they have satellite TV and know absolutely what the tourist can afford, something else to thank the Americans for!
Day 4 The adventure really picks up pace today. Abdul III arrived as promised and we loaded all our bags on the roof rack and clambered aboard for the first part of the trip up the Atlas Mountains. Imagine our surprise when with daytime temperatures of 25 degrees we crept out of Marrakech in fog! The first part of the journey was flat, we watched locals travelling in the opposite direction to the city loaded with goods for sale.
By late morning we had had several stops and arrived at the highest point in the mountains to have a snowball fight. The mountains never ceased to amaze us as at every turn the colour or texture of the rock changed again and again. The locals build single storey dwellings at the roads edge from local rock and so from a distance their houses seem appear almost invisible.
From Taddert we descended from 3700m to the other side of the mountains to stop for lunch in Ouarzazate after visiting the site of the film Gladiator. Abdul the driver proudly displayed his photos of his involvement moving crew around the area. There are three film studios in the area which are used whenever filming in the Sahara is needed. We enjoyed lunch in a rooftop restaurant next a building which looked like it was probably built as part of a movie set.
Back on the road we covered another 170km to add to the 200kms of the morning to arrive in Zagora an hour before sundown. Abdul II phoned us to make sure everything was Ok which was kind of him. Abdul III had driven consistently quickly throughout the day to arrive in time to ride camels for two hours to the edge of the desert for a night in a Bedouin campsite. Amazingly on checking the distance by GPS (travelled as the crow flies) to Marrakech, we had lost 100kms, this as kilometres wasted as we weaved tortuously through the mountains.
To say a camel ride is uncomfortable may or may not be true, what is true, borne out by subsequent rides is that these camels had the most uncomfortable saddles, it felt like doing the splits on a bucking bronco. Unfortunately it got worse, we were then left in a freezing cold tent for two hours before dinner was served. The meal was reasonable enough, spicy lentil and vegetable soup thick like a chowder followed by chicken on a bed of couscous with potatoes and vegetables, cooked in a Tajine, a terracotta plate with a cone shaped lid. We couldn't get to bed quickly enough, we were lucky it wasn't windy as there was sand in the blankets from previous nights, and it was unbelievably cold, like camping on a snowy English winters night. However the moonlight was breathtaking and lit up the whole area like daylight. The following morning after breakfast Sara and Kevin wisely elected to take the off-roader rather than camel back to town, some of our party however had a masochistic streak, but they learnt their lesson well.
Day 5 On the road again we now ran north east along the valley of the Atlas Mountains past oasis with thousands of palm trees. You imagine that water is a scarce commodity in these parts, but the locals were complaining of too much rain and we could see roads that had been over run by streams from the mountains only the week before. There were wells everywhere, no doubt water collected from the valley surface stored in the valley floor. As we passed children at the road side were selling datel (dates) collected from the palms. As we drove at speed Abdul told us that the children at the roadside were trying to stop cars for a handout of money or sweets. Christine sent some sweets forward and we stopped to distribute a handful of the candy. It happened Kevin was in the front so he wound down his window and got all but assaulted by six or eight young girls in the scramble. He always wanted to be a rock star!
We stopped enroute at the roadside for a picnic lunch in a dried up riverbed. Thoughtfully, Abdul got the dustsheet from over our luggage on the roof rack placed on the ground as a groundsheet. By mid afternoon we had arrived in Merzouga were we arranged for a night in a Tourag hotel called ‘Les Homme Bleu' on the edge of the Saharan dunes at Erg Chebbi. Another 20 minute drive across the edge of the desert we arrived at the hotel. Strange at first site the whole place is faced in what looks like (but isn't) straw laden dung! We were greeted by Ahmed who looked after us fantastically throughout our stay. We watched the sun set across the desert, then enjoyed a similar meal to the previous night but much better, and then they rounded the evening off with songs and drums, fantastic.
Day 6 At 06.30 we rose to prepare to watch the sunrise over the dunes, which Kevin thought was probably a bit of a gimmick. The Coles ever willing to subject themselves to physical torture elected to ride into the dunes by camel. We watched the sunrise spellbound, it has to be seen to be appreciated.
After breakfast we climbed aboard the good ship Abdul for another whirlwind trip back across the mountains to Fes, but not before a small excursion to a local lake 20 minutes away where we were told we would see flamingos.
We saw the flamingos from a distance, but were intrigued to watch two army officers having an argument with a number of men who had dug some sand for making bricks. We learnt that sand is routinely collected for brick making and delivered to the building site where the bricks are then made and left to dry. Apparently the officials objected to the desecration of a tourist site, confiscated their shovels and made them tip the load back again. They then returned their shovels and instructed them to level the surface they had disturbed. All this was done with considerable anger.
We passed through Erfoud, Erracidia up into the mountains again and on to Midelt for a late lunch. Midelt sits at 1500m and was unexpectedly cool. Another mountain climb up to Ait-Oufella was made interesting by the large number dogs we passed at the roadside. Abdul who only speaks French explained Camion Mange and Chien, which we took to mean that lorry drivers captured the strays and ate them. We were naturally disgusted as we don't eat dogs. Abdul then shocked us by stopping by some of the dogs, we weren't sure what was going to happen next. What Abdul had meant by Camion Mange Chien was that the lorry drivers stop and feed the dogs, relief!!!! Many of the dogs were collies no doubt used by the hill farmers as sheep dogs, and as strays they had found an altitude that suited them. All the dogs were friendly and pleased of the bread we fed them. (No dogs were harmed or paid during the photographs!)
We stopped for another photo opportunity in Azrou which was awash with police on every corner and army trucks passing through the area. Apparently the king had come for a visit, rock stars, by comparison, are only babes when it comes to entourages. We arrived in Fes in the dark with drizzly rain. Abdul arranged a hotel for us and informed he would collect us at 7.00am
Day 7 The Coles had decided that they were all four wheeled out and wanted to stay in Fes for the day and meet us the following day in Meknes, we think they were having McDonalds withdrawal and needed a Big McArabia. So it was just the two of us who did the pre breakfast tour of Fes by car. We stopped with Abdul for a croissant and coffee and then headed out of town. We wanted to visit the Roman ruins in Volubilis which covers a large area and housed 20000 people of which 12000 were slaves. Abdul hadn't approached Volubilis from Fes before so stopped several times for directions, which was interesting as few drivers in the UK would stop if flagged down by a large white four wheel drive stopped on the roadside unless it had blue flashing lights. Before we arrived in Volubilis we passed through the hill town of Mouley Idriss which had a market underway. The main street was filled with people coming and going although the livestock market was small it was busy. People were buying and selling animals from chickens to sheep and goats. Outside in a small ‘drive thru' area donkeys were being shod ‘while U wait'. Next along was a 10m circle of tarmac half a metre deep sold by weight on a large set of scales. Further down the hill was the merchandise market with covered stalls, which we didn't have time to visit.
Volubilis had been granted world heritage status in 1997 and it's certainly impressive to walk around and imagine life there. Unfortunately we could only afford a twenty minute stop so couldn't do the place justice.
We pressed on to Meknes were our arrangement with Abdul ended. Abdul took us on an outskirts tour of the city and then into the city centre to see more sights. By now we were getting well used to Morocco and it people, but we didn't expect to see 4 seat open carriages pulled by horses racing in the city centre. Moroccans always competitive for business had heard the central district was closed temporarily for a VIP tour and presumably not all the carriages would be needed, so they raced two deep round corners to be the chosen ones!
The Hotel Malta, described as 4 star + certainly it was the equal of any European hotel of the same classification. When asked if they had internet access available they delivered a laptop to our room! A great hotel, but the price, well how about £38.50 for both of us (excluding laptop and breakfast)!
Happy Woman
It seemed a shame to waste such a good hotel by wandering aimlessly around the city so we enjoyed the internet and satellite TV, and we were tired, we had covered 1200kms in three and a half days over mountains and country roads.
Day 8 Breakfast in the hotel followed by a short walk to the railway station to catch the train back to Tanger. The train was delayed, but once aboard we met up with the Coles and shared a compartment with them and caught up on the last 24 hours. We arrived in Tanger early afternoon and arranged two Grande Taxi for the trip to Smir Marina. Getting wise to the tourist rates we got a price from the first driver of 450 Dirham 100 Dirham less than the outward leg! When then second taxi turned up he only wanted 400. First surprise was that the cab driver called into the local police station and needed to get authorisation to travel more than 50 kilometres outside Tanger.
Second surprise was the taxi itself, a Mercedes 200D from the mid eighties probably imported from Germany after several trips to mars and back. This cab had no window winders, door pulls or any working instruments other than the oil pressure gauge, aside from the back axle which whined like a dentists drill. It had no seatbelts (not required) and the five seater car was licensed to carry 7 people including the driver, passenger No.7 sat on a metal shelf between the front seats with a leg in each foot well. We had seen many police stopping various vehicles all over Morocco and Abdul had himself been stopped on one occasion. Certainly motorists treated the police with great caution and much respect. As the driver spoke good English we asked what the police were looking for. His reply was papers, drugs and vehicle condition, no worries there then!
The trip back to Smir followed a different route from the outward trip and whilst passing through a large village we asked the driver if he wouldn’t mind stopping briefly at one of the roadside shops. We would only be a couple of minutes, worried that time is money and not wishing to delay him, we were be surprised that whilst we shopped he went across the road into a bar for a tea break! When he returned surprise No. three, the driver had trouble starting a warm diesel engine, you could only guess at the life that poor vehicle has endured. Sadly they don’t treat their animals any better.
We arrived back at the boat exactly the same time as the Coles although they had taken the northern route at a steadier pace. Both drivers were curious that some foreigners live on their boats so came down for a closer look.
Once on board, we checked the boat to discover someone had adjusted some of our lines. The dock master told us that his men had done this as while were away as there had been 70 mile per hour winds. Smir marina is at the top of the list of ports we have visited, thanks guys.
Twelve days in Morocco was the most enjoyable and fascinating trip either of us had ever had and we would do it again tomorrow. The diversity of the landscape is astonishing and often breathtaking, no two mountains or hills are the same shape texture or colour. The people are poor, humble, honest and charming, don’t mistake these characteristics for being slow or backward, they are sharp, well informed and richly proud of their heritage, we could learn much from them. We had many fun moments, but we don’t have twelve days to retell them, many of the pictures tell their own unique story.
We should like to thank Jeff Cole of Masala for the use of some of his pictures, between us over the eight days we took more than 3000 pictures!
P.S. As we left Morocco we heard that Easyjet have just started direct flights to Marrakech from £30, so get yourself a long weekend to remember.
Enjoy, Kevin & Sara
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posted by Kevin and Sara at 8:41 AM
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