Morocco & Spain Adventure - December 2007

Fulfulling a Dream

I’ve dreamed of Morocco my whole life since I was a little girl growing up in the fairly unexotic (that’s being charitable) town of Dothan, Alabama. For many years, I’ve planted the “Morocco seed” with my husband Matt hoping to convince him it would be a grand adventure. He seemed less than enthusiastic and said there were way too many other places he would like to visit (places we actually agreed on!) Finally after much pleading he consented with the condition that we only spent a few days in Morocco then moved on to Spain (and beginning the trip with time in the Big Apple so we could catch Neil Young in concert, but more on that later.)

Since I was doing all the actually booking of the trip, I took it upon myself to take a “few days” as meaning 5. As our trip grew closer and I began to mention it to friends, my apprehension grew with every “Oh my god, why are you going to Morocco?” and “Is it really safe there?” The final scare factor came as Matt and I were flipping TV channels one night and heard mention of Morocco. We both sat down and waited for what we thought was a program on traveling in Morocco (does Rick Steve’s have a show on Maroc?) Turns out, lucky us, it was a news piece on Morocco being the new frontier for global terrorism. Thanks, news media, this is just what we needed!

- NYC -

Our grand adventure began in the Big Apple, the high was 33 F and let’s not even talk about the wind chill. We were both in an Italian state of mind so we went directly from the airport to Little Italy dreaming of a yummy lunch at the famous Lombardi’s. Lunch there has always eluded me; it’s either closed or has an “how could it be worth it” wait. This day is no exception. Even though it’s almost three o’clock when we arrive there for “lunch,” there’s still a 2 hour wait. But as is usually the case, moving on to Plan B found us in a great little place. The sun came out and we decided to have a slice, fresh artichokes, buffalo mozzarella, and glass (in this case, plastic cup) of vino at an outside cafe (yes in 30 degree weather!) Ah, it’s almost as if we’re in Italy! Did I mention that this decadent lunch costs us a whopping $20! (And there are people in Times Square right now paying 3x that for a lunch of burgers and beer.)

We weren’t quite ready to break the spell so we headed over to a neighborhood favorite, La Nonna’s, for more vino. La Nonna’s is an old school restaurant with real Italian waiters in tuxes showcasing such a bravado, it would be laughable if it wasn’t so damn charming.

From Little Italy we decided to walk home (to our hotel, that is) via NYU area to the Village. Our plan was to just walk by Tomoe Sushi and see how long the line was. This is another famed NYC restaurant recommended by one of our favorite local Birmingham chefs from Gian Marco. By this time it was about six o’clock and we imagined the line to be the usual block long affair. When we got there and there were 1, 2, 3, 4!!, a mere 4! people in line, what were we to do but hop in it? We weren’t hungry, we still had our backpacks for goodness sakes, but there were 4 people in line. So, we had a dinner at 6 p.m. of the best sushi I’ve ever had. The Sushi/Sashami Combo came recommended so went for it. We struck up conversation with 2 guys beside us (as I often do in New York to Matt’s amazement.) When they found out that we were visitors from Alabama and asked what we liked to do in the city they were thrilled at our assertion that the Park is the only reason to go above 23rd Street. They told us about a “secret” delicacy not on the menu that we had to order. I can’t remember the “pretty” name, but the jaw of grouper made for a meal we’ll long remember!

When Sunday arrived we were both practically giddy with excitement about seeing the Neil Young show! We’ve waited a long time to catch him in a small venue and this venue of choice was the United Palace Theatre aka Reverend Ike’s Church. So we took the subway to 125th and Broadway, the only problem with this being the church is at 175th and BDWY! Much wondering around in the cold, asking store owners where the United was, and finally taking a second look at the tickets - Hey, I planned 7 different airlines changes, navigated languages to book hotels in 2 different countries with different currencies – cut me a break!

The frustration of getting lost was soon forgotten. This was THE show we had always hoped to see. Neil at his best. He played an hour and a half solo acoustic opening with “From Hank to Hendrix” and moved on to another hour and a half plugged in and rocking! He ended with a guitar-flexing instrumental called “The Sultan,” complete with a man in a Middle Eastern garb playing a gong. What a perfect send off for our next day Moroccan adventure.

On a side note, if you ever find yourself in Washington Heights near 175th Street, this area is known as the Dominican area and is filled to the brim with great restaurants serving Dominican delicacies like plantains, rice, and beans.

After the show, we headed back to the Village and stopped off to bask in the post-show buzz at our neighborhood café, the French Roast. As soon as we told our bartender where we had been he insisted on buying us a round if we would just give him a play by play of the show. I love this city!

- Morocco –

After an overnight flight and pit stop in Heathrow, we finally arrived in Marrakech. The very beautiful modern airport seemed to contradict the feeling we had of heading into an “ancient place” – but not for long! We had arranged pick up from our Riad (Marrakech is rich with these historic homes that have been updated into lodgings,) our driver spoke great English, and we felt at ease. Then, we entered the old city, the medina. We chose to stay in the medina instead of the New City so that we could see the “real” Morocco, not the tourist version. The roads were a maze and filled with men and women in full cover, kids on push carts, donkeys, chickens, and every thing else you can imagine. Suddenly our driver pulled to the side, opened the back, threw our luggage in a wheelbarrow being pushed by a pre-teen boy, and said “follow him.” That was it, he was gone and we were left to chase this kid through the streets. We soon knew we had little shot of finding our way around. The ancient buildings, albeit beautiful, were maze-like, all connected to each other, shielding out the sky and making it impossible to get oriented. The combination of everyone wearing full robes and head cover and the imposing structures really gave the impression of being very secretive and closed. We definitely weren’t in tourist Morocco!

Riad Baraka was very beautiful, if slightly claustrophic. There was no English spoken, of course. Just French and Arabic, neither our strong suit (although I had been trying to learn useful phrases in both,) but we managed to get by with broken phrases. After regrouping and getting over the shock of the place, we decided to venture out to the Djemaa el Fna, the main square. We called the rental agency (we knew they would speak English) and asked for a guide. A first with any tourist agency - they told us “no” saying we needed to venture out by ourselves to figure out the city. They said if we still wanted a guide tomorrow to call them back, but for today we were on our own. Not the response we expected, but one we totally respected.

Hitting the streets, we found the Morocco I’d imagined. We weaved our way through the souks (the shopping area) and saw everything from beautiful glass lamps and ceramics to wool socks and religious trinkets to amazing carpets. The people were standoff-ish but not aggressive. We saw a group of people heading down a small alley and decided to follow. It surprised us when they started yelling in Arabic at Matt. Someone in the crowd explained to us that we (he) were trying to enter the women’s market. Don’t imagine that goes over well here!

This crazy exotic city became even more so when we began hearing the prayer calls. I forget now how many times a day it occurs, five to seven maybe. It wakes you at six a.m. and lulls you to sleep around 11 p.m. The calls have a beautiful sound but really add to the feeling you have that this place will never open up and be known by you.

We finally made our way to the main square which opened up with an unbelievable showing of orange juice vendors, palm readers, henna artists, snake charms, food stalls, and hundreds and hundreds of locals. What a site! We settled into a café with a balcony overlooking the action and experienced our first meal of tagine (we didn’t realize at this point that it would be our lunch and dinner for the next five days.)

Feeling much more comfortable, we began the trek back to our Riad. It was late probably after 11 p.m. and very dark. Soon we were “joined” by a teenage boy offering to guide us back. We said no, but he persisted. Very soon we were completely lost and the kid was still following us. As we twisted and turned and got more and more confused, we began talking with him. He started asking for money, which we were completely fine to pay if he led us back. But then he began leading us in a direction we knew wasn’t right. We tried to shake him but nothing would work. Pretty soon, some of his friends joined him and we were surrounded by a group of boys demanding money in a very threatening manner. It was definitely a shake down, but we soon found our way back. It’s times like this that you realize you are truly all alone in a far away land…anything can happen.

When we got back to the Riad, the weight of this hit me and I began to feel that I had brought us to an unsafe place. (Please keep in mind, we’re not scaredy-cats, Matt and I survived the tsunami in Thailand, for goodness sakes!)

Neither of us slept well that night (once we got to our room, we realized the door wouldn’t lock.) But still, we woke the next morning feeling better, after a lovely breakfast of mint tea, bread and jams; we headed off to meet our guide for our 3-day desert excursion. I suggested we take a taxi to the Djemaa el Fna where we were to meet him. (Being a man J) Matt refused and said we needed to try and navigate our way back. Two hours and a wheelbarrow-load of frustration later, we were still walking around the streets trying to find the square. I gave up any apprehension I had of approaching hooded Muslim men and began asking everyone I saw – in my pitiful French – for directions.

Soon we met our guide, Omar. Omar runs a company called Camel Trekking which I found online. He takes out groups of up to six people into the Sahara for overnight camping trips. We met our fellow travelers: Elli (Montreal,) Louise (Portugal,) and Mykala and Sam (Britian.) We loaded in his Landcruiser and set out on our adventure which started with a 430 km drive for Day 1. The path took us on an infamously dangerous mountain pass over the Atlas Mountains, a wind storm was beginning as we ascended. There were times that it seemed our car would blow right off the side of the mountain. There wasn’t much discussion at this point, not even from Omar. Everyone seemed more and more nervous as the wind began to whip sand all around us so the road was barely visible.

Omar took it slow and steady and we finally crested the pass and began going into the valley where the wind and sand died down. By the time we stopped for lunch, everyone was in the mood to talk and get to know each other.

Omar was great! He grew up in the desert and his family still lives there. His father actually used to race horses in the desert and has won many awards. Like many Moroccans, Omar had never been out of the country. At times he seemed very naïve about the outside world – once asking us if there were camels where we lived – and at times seeming very savvy – asking me if I was ready to elect our first “girl” – meaning Hillary.

On the way to Ouarzazate, we stopped at Ait Benhaddu. This amazing UNESCO site is truly breathtaking. Many movies have been filmed here including Lawrence of Arabia and Gladiator and four families still live in this massive complex. I think seeing this truly out-of-this-world site was the first time Matt started to enjoy Morocco.

We got back on the road and soon began to see the amazing shifts in environment that is Morocco. Moving from the mountains, to the plains, to an area that resembles the Badlands, we began to arrive near the Dades Gorges where we would spend the night. The seven of us checked into our hotel, a rather large hotel but we seemed to be the only guests. Before dinner, Matt, Mykayla, Sam, and I walked into the town to get mint tea and search for camera batteries.

The small town center was packed with people, actually with men (no women in site.) Omar had told us earlier in the day that the following day was a Muslim holiday where every family slaughtered a sheep. We had seen families carrying sheep on carts, on the back of motorcycles and bicycles, and for a few strong gents, even over their shoulders, all day long in each town we passed. According to Omar on the next day 32 million sheep would be sacrificed in Morocco alone. At first we were taken aback and a little disgusted but then we realized how hypocritical that was. How many turkeys are killed in America for Thanksgiving? The only difference is our hands are clean; we have someone else do the actual killing. In any case, we all agreed the next day probably wasn’t a good day to be a sheep in Morocco.

Back at the hotel, we settled into a cozy dinner by the fireplace with our group. Tagine once again! Very good food and even better conversation. One of the biggest adjustments had been getting used to not having a glass of wine with dinner or a beer after dinner (it is a vacation after all!) But on this night, the lack of alcohol didn’t damper the celebration. We drank mint tea and listened as Omar and the hotel manager told us jokes. Really bad jokes in sometimes broken English and French. It’s amazing that these jokes make it all around the world and in some many languages. Here goes…

How do you put an elephant in the fridge?

1) open the door, 2) put the elephant inside, 3) close the door

How do you put a giraffe in the fridge?

1) open the door, 2) take the elephant out of the fridge, 3) put the giraffe in,
4) close the fridge

The lion was having a birthday party and invited all the animals of the jungle. Which animal didn’t show up?

The giraffe of course, he’s still in the fridge!

And, my personal favorite...this is one that Omar said if anyone could get the answer to he would give them a camel! (Exactly what we need, a camel! To encourage Matt and I, he said he thought Alabama needed more camel farmers.) Even with a prize so grand, none of us could solve the, uh…riddle. Something may have been lost in translation, but here’s what we got:

There’s a man who lives on the fourth floor of an apartment building. He takes the elevator down every day, but can only take the elevator back up when it’s raining. Why?

Because he’s a midget and can only reach the UP button when he has an umbrella
in hand.

Yes, I know, it’s bad. But, my lord, did they think it was funny and we all laughed for hours.

We soon left the cozy fire and settled into our freezing cold bed covering ourselves with layers and layers of thick wool blankets.

When we woke up the next morning, we were amazed to see – it was snowing outside! We were on our way to the desert in Morocco and it was snowing! An hour later into our 130 km drive today we arrived in the Gorges. Really unbelievable canyons with fascinating rock formations. After our very cold stroll through the Gorge, we headed to Eford for lunch. After a nice tagine, we began driving through areas that slowly begin to look like the desert. We soon began to see nomad tents and makeshift homes. Omar says they are the gypsies and have always lived this way.

The first site of the dunes was incredible and we stopped to check them out. Very fine sand, wonderful orange color that reminded me of the saffron monk robes in Thailand. Omar said our camels awaited and we pushed on. Soon we “left civilization” and could only see desert sand in all directions. Not another vehicle, a person, or a structure in site for miles. Just beautiful desert.

Then, we spotted…the camels! Sitting in the middle of the desert were six camels and a man dressed in long white ropes. Omar, almost abruptly, dropped us off and told us he would see us at the camp.

We were left in the desert with a man, Allan, who didn’t speak English, didn’t speak French, didn’t really even speak Arabic, just Berber. Since none of us can claim Berber, the hand signals commenced.

The strangest thing about riding the camels was actually getting on them. The camel sits while you hop on, then stands up with you astride. When his back legs stand, you lunge forward, then as his front legs rise, you jerk back. The ride was a lot of fun and truly felt like a once in a lifetime experience. Riding camels in the Sahara!

The crazy camel man, as we began to call him, tried to entertain us after the ride until time to watch the sunset by having us make baby footprints in the sand with our hands. Funny, yes, but after practically forcing each one of us to make prints over and over again, we were looking for a new game. Someone wondered out load if Allan knew what a snow angel was. Matt decided to drop in the sand on the side of the dune and begin swiftly moving his arms and legs. Allan apparently didn’t know snow angels and must have thought Matt wanted to fly. Before anyone knew what was happening and at lightening speed, Allan ran down grabbed Matt’s feet and begin running and pulling Matt down the dune. We laughed so hard, I couldn’t even snap off a picture. Matt was so shocked and had pants full of sand to show for it. Very funny!

After sunset we walked to our camp and spotted our tents. Omar later said we were located just 50 km from the Algerian border. Our very cool complex consisted of a dining tent, 3 bedroom tents, a kitchen, and two bathrooms (Turkish-style with holes in the ground.)

Omar’s brother Bari (Mubarkic) was in camp and made us a delicious tagine dinner (the best tagine yet!) after dinner we build a fire and Omar and Bari played the drums and taught us a few Berber songs. What a special night!

But the real joy came in getting to know Omar. He answered all of my nosy questions about Islam, assured us that Moroccans didn’t hate Americans, and little by little shared information about his life.

We crawled into our tent for bed and I have to admit, I was so paranoid about creepy critters that I made Matt search the tent with me. I mean the possibilities are endless…spiders, scorpions, snakes (all the bad S’s) We covered ourselves with six wool blankets to keep out the cold; blankets so heavy that we could barely move under their weight. I tucked all my corners in to keep any late coming critters from getting in and woke often in the night to check my tuck-status.

I awoke to Matt yelling at me to get out of the tent or I’d miss sunrise. Now, sunrise isn’t on my list of favorite activities, but we were in the desert, it was sure to be “once in a lifetime,” and everyone else was doing it. This was enough to get my lazy self out of the tent, run up a giant sand dune (much more difficult than one would think,) and witness one of the most beautiful sites I’ve ever seen. I entitled the image “Sahara Awakening.” That moment truly sealed this as one of “those” trips!

We began our long journey home with a pit stop in town so Omar’s brother could buy supplies for their family feast. Omar would be missing the feast and spending his day with tourists as it seems he always does. We asked him about his hopes and dreams. He said he would like to find a wife (we sarcastically asked if we wanted more than one, but he laughed and said one would do just fine.) I asked him if he could travel anywhere in the world where he would like to go. He didn’t have to think long. Immediately he said “South Africa. I want to see the animals.” Matt and I would like to go there too one day. I hope we get there, but more so, I hope Omar gets there.

He said a good job pays $2 day and that there just aren’t enough jobs to be had. By the numbers of young men we saw hanging out in tea shops and on sidewalks in every town in the country, it was obvious unemployment must be high.

As we made our way back to Marrakech, a little bit of sadness sunk in that our desert adventure was coming to an end. But for me, it was something more. I couldn’t help but wonder why it has to be “us vs. them,” “Christians vs. Muslims,” “The US vs. well, everyone else.” Sure, we have a lot of differences, but we also have so much in common: the care of family, the desire for friendship, the need for meaningful work and purpose, and the irrepressible yearning for laughter.

Our last day in Marrakech was much calmer than our first. We stayed at the Hotel Shezerade. Still in the medina but not far off the main square and very easy to find. Who knows, if we had stayed here on our first night, we may have never gotten lost and frightened. We may have never been in such a state of anxiety (and Matt’s stomach may not have been upset for every day of the trip.) But most of the time, with travel - with life too, I guess - you learn, it takes the good and the bad to make it memorable.

We capped off this leg of the trip with a visit to a Hammam, a typical Middle Eastern bath house. Les Bains de Marrakech was in a beautiful old house filled with mosaic tiles and archways. We were placed in a very small room, scrubbed, and I mean scrubbed, to new baby pink by a young Moroccan women who then dunked buckets of water on our heads and led us into another chamber for a relaxing massage.

We had a final great lunch (pizza, we’d hit the tagine limit) at Les Terrasses de l’Alambra overlooking the daily circus of the Djemaa el Fna.

Visiting Morocco was one of the hardest things either of us has done travel-wise but it was also one of the most rewarding. It’s a trip I feel certain we will never forget. And, I know for sure, I’ll never taste thé à la menthe quite like that again. We’ve been home for months now and I still crave it every once in a while (yes, there are times I would even be willing to trade in my cold beer for a cup of that delicious tea!)

Having said that, we were both ready to make the leap over to Spain and get back to more familiar (albeit still foreign) surroundings. Great food (please, no more tagine!,) wine, sangria – ah, it was time!

- Spain –

We flew into Madrid, arriving around 11 p.m. and went out for a late dinner and drinks. I have to admit that after spending just five short days in Morocco, I was in a little culture shock. The pub was loud, there were drunken people, basically wearing no clothes, everywhere. It was smoky, people were invading our space. Matt and I are far from uptight, but everything is relative and this was so incredibly different from the culture that we had just experienced.

The next day we made our way out of crazy and overwhelming Madrid and took the fast train to Seville. What a beautiful city Seville is! Very relaxing. We dove head first into tapas and sangria and made up for our dry spell.

The days were flying by now and we set off to Ronda, a small mountain town, where we would spend Christmas Eve and Day. We stayed at Hotel EnFrente Arte. I booked this place for two reasons 1) the website said its brunch lasted until noon (no getting up early for me!) 2) the bar was included in the room fee. We weren’t really sure what number 2 would mean in actuality, but we soon found out!

After dinner out and drinks at an Irish pub of all places, we headed back to the hotel to have “one” drink at the bar before going to bed. We met a newlywed couple from Oregon and two Dutch guys. The Dutch would soon turn into our best friends - in drinking. We spent and entire workday (yes, 8 hours!) drinking wine and beer with the Dutch – who often and loudly proclaimed – “If it isn’t Dutch, it isn’t much!” Our new best friends Marcel and Rudy soon persuaded Matt to switch to the house sherry. Matt doesn’t even like sherry! But, by the sight of him downing entire beer glasses full of the stuff, I guess he changed his mind! My urging him to bed, brought on the wrath of the Dutch. “Stop trying to control him!” they said.

Needless to say, I spent Christmas day alone. Matt missed Christmas breakfast (which I spent alone) in the hotel. When I arrived downstairs Rudy and Marcel were already there. But they weren’t alone – there was a wife and multiple kids there! Eight hours with them and they never mentioned a wife or kids! The Dutch! My pitiful husband stayed in bed, hating the world, until 3 p.m. when I finally put a foot down and told him he had better get up or else!

Christmas in Ronda was beautiful, it’s a very magical place. On the 26th, we took the train on to Granada for our final days. Sure Granada is historic and beautiful, but what we soon discovered that really set Granada apart was their “tapas policy.” In Granada, if you order a drink, you receive a free tapas. I thought that this meant, you got a free tapas with your first drink and that was it. Matt and I belly-upped to a bar and ordered a sangria. Soon, we received 2 beautiful pieces of fish! When we looked surprised, the bartender told us it was there way. Ok, so force us…we’ll just have to have more drinks!

Seated at the bar, we begin talking to the guy beside us – what a surprise – he was Dutch! We may have run like hell from him but he had his seven year old son in tow, so he seemed safe. As we got to know him, we learned that he once lived in Granada and was bringing his son to experience the city he loved. He invited us to take a night time walk to the Alhambra with them and we set off on another adventure. It was an incredible night getting to experience the amazing palace with a local who knew the ends and outs and could tell us of the history and lore.

We ended our last night in Spain at a pub with our new friend Pablo and his son Sebastian and, thank goodness, a redeemed image of the Dutch!

We met great travelers and locals, saw incredible sights both natural and man-made, and got to experience cultures in ways many people will never. And, like all good travel, it just makes me want to get back on the road - as soon as our bank account and J-O-B allows!

NYC:
Larchmont Hotel $120 www.larchmonthotel.com
Tomoe Sushi www.nymag.com/listings/restaurant/tomoe-sushi/
La Nonna http://www.lanonnamulberrystreet.com/



Morocco:
Riad Baraka Marrakech 700 Dh/70 E www.marrakech-riads.net
Camel Trekking with Omar 130 E www.cameltrekking.com
Hotel Shezerade Marrakech 53 E www.hotelsherazade.com
Easy Jet flight from Marrakech to Madrid $48 www.easyjet.com

Cool video about Djemaa al Fna http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sVySpV3jSzA


Spain:
Hotel Triana Madrid 53 E www.hostaltriana.com
Hotel EnFrente Arte Ronda $150 www.enfrentearte.com
Oasis Hostel Seville & Granada $40 www.hosteloasis.com


Usual Arab phrases:
Ssalamu lekum – Peace be upon you
(la) shukran – (no) thank you
na’am – yes