Own only what you can carry with you; know languages, know countries, know people.Let your memory be your travel bag.*"
Take a moment and reflect on how much you really know about Morocco. I mean really and truly. Because everything that I knew about Morocco could probably be encompassed in one first-grade project and the fact that the movie Casablanca exists (I couldn't stay awake through it). Sure, let's go alone. You let your daughter run around by herself, Pepe? I'm psyched. And now that I've had all kinds of time to go over it in my head, it was one of the best, most educational, and most adventurous weekends of my life.
What do I know about Morocco? A lot more now than before, that’s for sure.
Before, I think all I knew of Morocco could be encompassed in a first grade project of which I remember nothing except for a really cool traditional costume my mother made for me that, no big deal, I got to wear in a parade (haha, ask my mother about that entire experience… our recollections might differ a bit).
Other than that, I’m pretty sure I watched Casablanca once… and didn’t make it through. But there’s no way to learn like being tossed into the fire, right?
Sarah and I weren’t tossed, we were shoved, and we made every mistake imaginable. Every time we thought we had the learning curve beat, we just messed up again. But that weekend in Morocco - experiencing the entire spectrum of human emotion, navigating, negotiating, and bartering in a country completely different than my own, calming myself down with café con leche, and riding a camel - was probably one of the best and certainly the most educational weekends of my life.
When we finally got to Tánger (after long bus and boat rides), we took a taxi to the hotel. Note: There is a perfectly good bus that Solchasers has for you, so use it for free. But I really thought I heard the word “taxi” come out of Pepe´s mouth (probably “don’t…take a taxi!”) so we had a nice ride to the hotel by a very nice man who said that he’s not a guide (neither is anyone else in the city, but they’re trying to make a quick buck) but he’d be happy to show us around for cheap. Cue exit from taxi. The hotel, Hotel Solazur, is really plush. It's beautifully decorated with traditional Islamic touches on the inside, right across the street from the beach (ladies, make your own decisions about wearing bathing suits in an Islamic country; it was not for me), has a pool, free breakfast, and a great view. And the touroperator who we kind of booked through (it's complicated, but come to the Solchasers office), has a stand at the hotel, they offer transportation to and from the port, and a bunch of extra guided activities and trips.
After hearing about all the tours that the incoming touroperator offered, Sarah and I decided that we were savy enough to negotiate the streets by ourselves. Go big or go home, right?
So we set out in search of money changers, the tourist office, and then the market. That’s all we wanted, really. And I don’t think I’ve ever felt so violated in my entire life.
Sarah asked me if I was familiar with the term “eye-rape.” Yeah, that sounds about right. We seriously couldn’t figure out where these men got the audacity to look at and speak to us the way they did. But after about one block, we realized that not only were we the only women on the street, but our clothes did not exactly conform to the standard dress in an Islamic country. Sarah had a tube top on, and yeah, my shoulders were covered… but it was a fitted t-shirt, and I’m a D-cup. But without the tourism office, we didn't know where the market was and therefore could not buy more appropriate clothing. Anyway, you don’t need to know how we got to the tourism office or the market, I’m sure you’ll have your own stories, but we did get there, and an afternoon of being treated the way we were made me almost start crying when the woman who had the tunic stand was kind to us. She let me come back in her stand and try on an outfit, and gave me a taste of her tea, and generally helped us remember and appreciate the small words of kindness and gestures that humans are capable of.
Once we got the tunics Morocco was a completely different experience. The men still complimented us in 7 different languages (when this happens, or someone tries to sell you something, smile to yourself - you are gorgeous in 7 different cultures - and just keep walking), but there were no more accusatory glares or nasty comments. It was as though they didn’t care that we were foreigners, we just needed to demonstrate that we would respect their culture and beliefs, and there were no problems.
I felt bad for having acted like the “typical American” who just goes in and behaves the same wherever they are and expects others to deal and accept them. I mean, why had I gone by myself if I was going to be like that? But we had the tunics and that was a start.
Later we went on a suggestion from Pepe (Pepe's our boss, if that wasn't clear) and the woman at the tourist office to a place called Café Hafa. We were psyched that we had two recommendations, but the trip out there in the taxi made us a little nervous (who am I kidding, after a day of near-rape, I was terrified). He just kept driving and driving, up and out of the city, and I really truly absorbed how much power taxi drivers have. But he had to go that far out, because this café was dug into the cliffs above the Atlantic Ocean. Incredible. Just what we needed at the end of a physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting day. We had Moroccan tea (two cups, actually, because the guy serving it was really nice and cute and we couldn’t say no), and there was a man with three teeth who recommended soup, so that’s what we had, and then another old man came by to offer us a tart. And who are we to turn down sweets? Sarah said it was the first time that she was able to relax that whole day, but I was still a little petrified about how precisely we were supposed to get home. But I needn’t have worried.
I asked the man who made the tea where we could get a taxi, and he sent one of his guys up the hill with us to wait with us and hail us one. How many people in the States would do that? In Spain? Why was it so unexpected here?
However surprising, it did wonders for my perception of the city and its inhabitants; I think I was just astounded at the contrast of the men from the streets that morning to the treatment we received at this café.
The next day we were a little apprehensive about what the day would bring us, but it ended up being the best day there. We were chatting with the concierge (whose grudging respect I’m pretty sure we had for going it alone) and we told him of the few things that we wanted to do while we were here: go to the Herculean Grotto, get Henna tattoos, go to Asilah, ride a camel, and try hookah. And he gave us recommendations for all of it. He told us about his friend Ahmed who would drive us anywhere we wanted to go for cheap, and he’d get us the henna and camel rides, and then he mentioned that people don’t do hookah bars here.
If they exist, they’re usually a lot sketchy if not illegal, so just go in Sevilla. But I think Sarah has the better story about haggling that day, so I won’t steal her thunder.
Just be open to anything. Wear jewelry that is cheap and unimportant to you, and add it in to the deal. Maybe food would work too, I don’t know. In any event, haggling is a sport there, so get psyched and bring your A game.
And then we met Ahmed, our guide. I’m not sure how to describe him except as awesome. He used to be a chauffeur for one of the princes of Morocco so he speaks six languages: Arabic, Spanish, French, German, English, and Italian and he’ll speak to you in whatever you want. So we got a lot of Spanish practice over the weekend.
Before driving us to Cape Spartel and the Herculean Grottos, Ahmed took us on a whirlwind tour of Tangier at probably 60 mph, with Sarah and I frantically snapping pictures from the backseat. He was pointing out the French, English, American, Spanish, Moroccan, Belgian, and any-other-country-you-can-think-of quarters, many of the mosques, and generally trying to give us a sense of how to navigate the city. Recently the King of Morocco built a palace in Tangier and began a massive cleanup of the city, taking it from "the Tijuana of Morocco" (meant in the most affectionate way possible, I'm sure) to an international, cosmopolitan city. There is still poverty, and still much to do, but I'm told that it is infinitely better than it was six years ago.
Unfortunately, you can't take pictures of the king's palace, because the guards will destroy the film. Not to worry, though. The King of Jordan, all four Princes of Morocco, the Moroccan King's sister, the royalty of Kuwait, and the oil barons of Saudi Arabia, motivated by the clean-up as well as the breezy climate, have all built their summer homes here, and you can see all of their palaces... at least from the outside (at 60 mph, this doesn't leave much to see, but at least you can say you did).
Thanks to this trip, I can explain why oil prices are so high. (But the answer is not drilling in Alaska!) This account of our tour through Tánger might not give the most favorable impression of having a guide, but I was really glad to have one, especially one whose only concern was the two of us.
Did our trip cost less than the organized trip? Yeah, we stayed for three days and spent about 150 € total whereas the organized trip was 139 € for two days, not including souvenirs. And we could have done it for cheaper. But I felt a lot better having a guide who I knew was getting us a fair price and who had dependable transportation. Don’t get me wrong: you can totally go to the Herculean Grottos and Asilah on your own, but I consider having a guide money very well spent. So we’ll give you his information, and you, as always, get to decide.
I highly recommend Asilah. Since it's a coastal city, it used to be a lookout and stronghold of ancient Morocco, and there is still the Muralla that goes completely around the city, similar to what Sevilla used to have. But the people have just built their homes and stores in and on top of it, so you get this amazing contrast of 14th century stone intimidation, and the relaxing and inviting whitewashed buildings with their periwinkle and aqua doors.
It's a huge artistic town (there's certainly enough inspiration!) and in August there is a major art festival. When we visited, everyone was busy whitewashing all of the buildings because when the artists come, in addition to painting their show pieces, they all find wall space and decorate the city as well. If you're able to in August, get out of the heat of Sevilla and go to Asilah. It’s a gorgeous, gorgeous town and everybody is so relaxed and kind. It’s only an hour from Tangier, you can take a bus, or Ahmed can drive you and take you to see his buddies.
One of my favourite memories was meeting Matesh, a small, bowlegged man who was so animated and passionate about his handmade products. There are tons of people and cities like this around Tangier, and if you want to go, ask! There are buses, Luxotour does trips to Chefchauen and Asilah, or get someone to take you.
Sarah does a great job of detailing our experience in Asilah, so I don’t think I need to repeat it.
Suffice it to say, that after all the tense moments, I’m grateful to Pepe for shoving us, because I think it was one of the most valuable experiences of my life.
It's one thing to read about current events customs of a country, but it's quite another to make a mistake and suffer the ramifications, to see a woman wearing a burqa and feel your stomach leap into your throat at the same time that you feel jealous of her freedom from the roaving eyes of men. I’m not an adventurous person, nor particularly spontaneous, but I felt intoxicated by accomplishment and empowered by what I've learned. I not only want to travel the world, I now feel like I can. If nothing else, this trip taught me how I want to travel; now I’ll be sure to know about the culture before I go, learn as many languages as I possibly can, and go for what I want to do. Don’t turn down a trip just because you don’t know much about the culture. Pay attention to current events and take heed, but you’ll be surprised and awed by what you find in a lot of places. Just go for it!
* One thing that I have never been able to do is come up with titles. And Sarah's is better anyway. So quotations have become my lifesaver, even though they really don't take the place of an awesome, clutch title. But I think this quotation does encompass a lot of what I learned from Morocco and hopefully directs your thoughts on your own trip.
Thanks to Alexander Solzhenitsyn.
