Morocco

Well, I made it to my last destination in this trip!

I was staging in Sousse and then took the train to Tunis, arriving in enough time to grab a taxi. Interesting that it is much more civilized leaving with a taxi than arriving. I had checked my flight well in advance and found that my flight had changed from 1300 hours to 1700 hours...not as I had so carefully planned. I do not like to get into a town late at night. As I was at the airport waiting to board the flight an announcement came over the intercom. Who is kidding who? Of course I did not understand it, but it caused a bit of concern with the rest of the people so I could figure something was up.

Thank goodness I had traded a good book.
The flight was further delayed, of course.
I asked at the desk, and the woman, in her halting English said the plane had not arrived.

Now, you need to know that while I was staging to go to Egypt I made a note to myself; and that would be 'do not book flights to Africa in advance'.
I muttered this to myself again....

When the plane came in almost the entire waiting area stood up and watched the unloading of the plane. No pressure. I just kept reading. Little did I realize that most of these people were refugees from Morocco, who had come from Libya. They were in a rush to get home.

The announcement comes to board the plane. Holy cow! I have never seen a line form in 3 seconds flat. I got up and thought, is there anyone that is not going to get on the plane? I sat down again. Let them get on first, I will get on later. I get on and find that my seat is occupied by a man in animated conversation with two women. I show him my boarding pass, and he explains to the women he must go. I motion to see his boarding pass and he shows it to me. I wave him back to my old seat and sit in his.

I read my book and try to organize my various plans in my head. The flight puts me in Casablanca at 2100. Not good. Oh well, just let go and see what happens. Really what else can I do? So when I get off the flight and go through customs - no visa required, I am looking at 2200 hours looming. Firas told me to grab a train to Marrakesh and that they leave every 2 hours. However that is clearly not the case. I am told the next train is at 0450 hours. It is the buses that go every two hours. Yikes. I sit for a while and decide whether I want to get into Marrakesh at 2 am or wait and go later arriving Marrakesh in daylight.

Daylight it is. This is a decision that I might regret.

I buy a ticket into from the airport on the train that takes you to Place Voyegeur. This is the Central Rail Station. The fact that my French sucks is not lost on me either. However it is also not lost on me that raising your voice does not make you more understandable either! So I just chill and have to be patient even though the information people will help others in what appears to me to be an attempt to get rid of me and save them from the obvious lack of English they have. I remember clearly that I am in their country. I smile and try again with my English/French dictonary that does not appear to have the words I need. Some how we both muddle through. Bon jour.

I buy a ticket into Casa on the next train 2400 hours. I will regret not staying in the airport.

I board the train and there is no heat. Okay, there are screaming kids instead. Why are they not sleeping? That is good - go ahead and give them chocolate - that should settle them down. I try breathing through this...that sort of helps. Not really.

I am tired. No kidding!

I get off at Place du Voyegeur and there are only a few people in the train station. I go over and buy my ticket to Marrakesh. 90D. I settle myself down in what I judge to be the safest, warmest seat in the train station. Next to another woman. Well the train station is not heated, and I was wondering why people were carrying blankets. It became clear pretty fast. It was flipping cold. Tomb-like if you must know. But little did I know that the mid night entertainment was on the way!

At about 0100 hours a young man comes in and starts to engage people on where they should put their luggage. This would be the night cleaner. His responsibility was to get rid of the garbage on the floor and then wash and dry the floor. He takes out a bucket of water and cups it out of the bucket all over the grand floor. He has everyone's attention. Anyone getting up and walking through his artwork was berated.

Actually quite entertaining. Everyone at rapt attention. He was a rude boar. He then gets the squeegy out and if you can imagine a tennis match and the heads going back and forth, you have the idea. I was having more fun watching them watching him, than anything else. Move your feet, I have to get under them. I fall into a semi sleep. I wake up again due to his antics.

It was when he opened the doors directly in front of me that I started freezing. Did I relent and put my sweater on? Nope. Anyways, he then disappears and I go over and shut the doors, he comes over and berates me. I give him a little what for... you know- mid night entertainment? He goes over and opens them again. The blankets have long ago come out and I've pulled out of my backpack my camel wrap. A man decides he needs to sit on the other side of me and then he stikes up a conversation. He speaks a little English and I learn that apparently he is a professer of Geography. He asks me about Montreal...it would seem that in both Tunisia and now in Morocco, they know where Montreal is, but nowhere else. I sigh. I patiently go into my little diatribe about Calgary to no avail. I am tired. I put the camel wrap around my head and try to doze off. I manage this for at least five seconds when the guy next to the lady beside me tries to do something that sets her off. I can't understand, but this goes on for 20 mintues.

No rest for the wicked, I guess. But when have I been wicked?

The man must know that I've dozed off, because he wakes me up to tell me that I should be ready to get on the train. I have set my alarm. Flip. I am not amused. I tell him that my train leaves in another hour and a half! I am annoyed. I wrap wrap myself up again and try again to doze off. I must have because both the lady and this man tell me the train is coming.

Now, in my experience with the trains is that they come into the station and they stay for at least 10 minutes before they depart. Where the heck is the fire? I get my backpack on and then I'm waiting on for the train to pull in for another five minutes.

I get on the train and settle myself in the first little cabin. Hmmm, seems a little cold. Maybe the heat will come on in a little while, when the train starts off - Naught!
I am in a foul mood now. No heat on the train? Flipping hell. BTW, if you thought this was the Marrakesh Express, it isn't, wasn't and never was.

It wasn't until I had to go to the bathroom that I decided to explore the train. Did I ever feel stupid about finding the place everyone was sleeping...IN THE WARM CABIN!!!

I could not grab my backpack fast enough and get into the warm cabin. I ended up getting jammed between the doors like a turtle overturned. I found a seat and took my popsicle toes out of my boots. I tenderly tried to thaw them out, all the while muttering to myself.

I arrive in Marrakesh at 8 am. Nice sunrise. I really love the landscape and the houses.
I get off of the train and now the fun begins.

I look for a map, and although they have an information centre there is no real help there. And no maps.

I opt for going to the REAL information centre and am sent on my way.

Note to self - Any information centres in any of these countries have been established just as a front for tourists. You have to pull eye teeth out of the people who work in them, because they surely are not welcoming nor ambassadors.

It takes me an 1.5 hours to get there and again I'm left muttering to myself.

I decide to find some accommodation. Off I go to 'Place Jemaa El Fna'.

Google this place.

I was in love immediately.

Initially I was supposed to stay with a guy that I had arranged to stay with. However you get wise on who is serious and who is just using the website as a dating site. I figured I would just chill at a nice place for a couple of days and figure out what I want to do.

I checked out a couple of places, but they seemed too brothel-like - so I kept on looking and settled on a old room at the back of a hotel that fronts the El Fnaa. The CMT Hotel. It turned out to be a good choice. I walked around for a while had a bite to eat and then headed back to relax and have a hot shower. I came out to sit in the sun, like a cat. I grabbed my book and no sooner did I read a page I was dozing off. I went in for a nap.

I woke at 6 pm and went out the front door to be confronted by an almost complete transformation of the El Fnaa. Food everywhere. I knew I was in heaven. It was a riot of food. Food everywhere. My mouth is watering. Where to start?

Ahhh, where should I start? I had been looking for a poissant soup, but could not find one except in Djerba. There were several establishments here that were offering it. I sat down to a wonderful bowl of soup 3D. I then wandered around to find that they also had tajine with fish, 10D. I decided to have one of those too! Yummmm. . I meet a woman from Seattle and we chat a bit. I am looking for a tea. I end up amused by some young German men who are being targetted for money. I tell them they have to learn the look.

I've told you about the look, haven't I?

Okay, it's the look you have when bored beyond tears, just a blank stare. No interest in your eyes at all. You don't make eye contact and you make a quick snap of your head indicating no. Nothing is said. If you say anything they will try to engage you in your language and then you are targetted down the line of vendors. I find sunglasses useful also.

I find my tea, but don't really know what they are serving...it looks like tea. It is cardomom tea. Interesting.

I do some bargaining for some items with the women selling their wares.

I head back to my room. I go the the front desk and ask for an extra blanket. That raises the ire of one of the guys in behind the desk. I say to the younger one that I am sleeping alone tonight, that is the reason for the blanket. That raises some eyebrows, but they get the message. I get my extra blanket with a smile. Little do they know that I've been sleeping alone all the time. How unfrench of me!

I have visited the Royal Palace and that was not worth the effort. I was strictly forbidden from taking photos.

I found a cheap internet place outside the Palace where I have started to master the art of the French keyboard; and am spending too much time catching up on my keyboarding.

I meet up with a young German named Jan and we check out some of the wonderful mosques in the Medina. Now Jemm El Fnaa is huge. It has something for everyone. But it is a labyrinth of streets. The kids make sport of getting you all turned around. I suppose I would have done the same at their age if I had nothing better to do. Ha! But Jan has a GPS, not really fair, but it works and it gets us to where we are going.

The next day we decide to go to Essouira.

Essouira is beautiful. After a 4 hour bus ride down there, we arrive at 12 noon. It is sunny, warm and bright. We find the Riad that his friends are staying at and settle in. I wasn't too impressed with the Riad, as it was very dark. So I was going to opt for another when the very smart proprietor shows me a brighter room. He said that he just wanted to see me smile. Smart guy.

Jan's friends are people he met while taking a tour into the desert on a camel. They are three women from Italy and one guy who is from the UK but who is also from Italy. We go to the sea side and there is fresh fish and seafood. OMG!!

We absolutely gorge ourselves on fish and seafood until we can't eat anymore. This is a place that I could retire. Seriously. Fresh catch of the day comes in and you are eating it for lunch. The beach is nice. And the winds are brisk. Lovely. The sun is shining and the temperature is perfect. Warm.

We then head out and explore the small town and Paula, Giulia and Martine and Andrew want to buy stuff because they are heading home in a couple of days. My backpack is too heavy and I want to stuff it full before I get home, but not yet.

We stroll around the seaside looking at all that Essouira has to offer. No craziness here. Actually the people are very laid back. I'm liking this.

I decide that I have to go back to Marrakesh in order to go into the desert. I had thought that going south would get me there, but that is not so. I need to go back to Marrakesh to head to Marzouga near the Algerian border. I figure that if I take a bus there I can probably get this for a cheaper price. So back to Marrakesh the next day. Jan and I travel together and say goodbye as he is heading to Rabat and I am not going there yet.

I stay at the Auberge in Marrakesh and am in a dorm by myself again. No problem. I found out the bus to Marzouga leaves at 830 am and so I set my alarm to get there on time.

It is a 12 hour bus journey to Marzouga. Yikes. I meet some Japanese guys on the bus and they have a place booked. I tag along. They have already reserved to go into the desert and since I don't have anything formally planned this is a good start. We get to the Wilderness Lodge at 9 pm and I'm pretty well cooked. We have something to eat and into a dorm I go. By myself again. No problem. The place is really cool, because the walls are of straw and mud. Really dampens the sound attenuation, and has a really cool look. We have a light dinner and head to bed.
The next day the Japanese women who owns the place speaks French, but not too good English talks to me about going into the desert. I say that I want to stay overnight if that is possible. She says it is.

I go that night at 4 pm on a camel named Hameel and a guide named Ibrahim into the desert by myself. I feel like some explorer from the past. Just me and my guide. The desert is hauntingly beautiful. It is the colour of adobe. We travel about 2 hours when we stop at a village and I have my own little berber tent to sleep in. Ibrahim shows me the well that has the water. They sink a 10 gallon plastic barrel into the sand with the top just above the top. When they open the top there is water. Amazing. It's all about condensation. Brilliant. Ibrahim makes me what they call Berber whiskey which is Berber tea or mint tea. It is everywhere and has IMHO just the right amount of sugar....lots. Ibrahim also makes me a tajine. A man after my heart.... or at the very least my stomach. The stars were not out and I warned Ibrahim that it might rain. Yes, it did! Too funny. I walked up and down the dunes the next morning and took many pictures. It was a very special and quiet time. I absolutely loved it. The next day back on the camel and back to the hostel.

I stay an extra day and then decide that I could go to Fez or to the Imilil. I ask one of the guys at the store what he thinks would be wise. Now, honestly I wanted to do some hiking, but this is winter here and I know there is snow in them there hills. So when I ask him, he says that there will be few people there at this time of year, and that he doesn't believe it would be safe for me on my own. :((

So off to Fez it is. I get myself ready and then go out to the oasis and walk around this amazing oasis that the community has there with onions and it looks like wheat or barley and peas. Now, I should get some of those peas. How do they grow in the heat? Ours don't like it. Hmmmm. They have date palms also. No coconut palms here, not enough water.