'Bye bye Europe, hello Africa'
Soaking in the culture change
MOROCCO
After about 45 hours on the ferry from Genoa we entered the Strait of Gibraltar and soon had Tangier in our sights. It was a bit strange to have been at sea en route to Africa for two whole days, yet still be virtually within swimming distance of Spain. On the top deck some guys from Morocco and beyond were shouting and waving: “Africa!”… “Bye bye Europe, hello Africa!”
They were excited to be back on familiar ground. We were excited to be on unfamiliar ground.
Our time in Europe was wonderful - we did so much yet barely touched it. There’s still a tonne to see, and we’ll be back. But a big part of the joy of travelling comes from experiencing a complete change in culture. We were ready for that. New food, new landscapes and wildlife, different smells and sounds, myriad confusing ways of doing things.
Morocco comes with a buffet of languages, too. Arabic, French, Berber/ Amazigh. A sprinkling of Spanish in some parts. Sometimes a serving of English. Often a bit of everything in one mouthful (okay, I think we’ve exhausted this metaphor now – ed).
We felt a bit nervy as we disembarked. Ports and borders can be bewildering places and you just want to get everything done and dusted without ballsing it up within the first hour. With an evening arrival scheduled we’d planned for the possibility of sleeping in the port car park. But the ferry was four hours early; boom. The port was super organised. We had time to get through the customs scans and dog searches (“Are you carrying any guns?” ‘Erm, I know we look like the Belgian army, but nope’), buy SIMs for the phones, get cash and get on the road.
We hit the ground running with a fabulous drive to Tétouan. All was well!
We parked up in a riverside car park on the edge of the city that also served as a leisure area. The view from our door was beyond acceptable for an urban car park.
It was quite an introduction. Families were promenading and picnicking, children scooting about on novelty karts, vendors selling food. An obliging camel showed up to give rides and remind us that, yes, we had definitely arrived in Morocco. It was a fabulously warm atmosphere. We ate grilled corn for dinner and tried to soak it all in.
Early the following morning we woke briefly with the call to prayer. It’s things like this that really remind you you’re not in Kansas anymore. We enjoyed the city’s quiet medina for a while as it slowly cranked into action.
At the flea market section of the souk, men crowded around tangled piles of random cables and electrical flotsam. They were virtually drooling over the possibilities. It was like someone had dropped the man drawer of their dreams from the sky.
Different culture, same blokes.
We ate unusual things, taking the what-the-hell approach to day one and choosing an unidentifiable sandwich for breakfast at a stand-up cafe (chopped liver and green olives, as it turned out). At lunch we thought ‘why not’ to a spicy anchovies tagine.
Our first week or so was all about the medinas, trying to photograph street cats, and enjoying the beautiful and interesting drives between towns.
Chefchaouen is famous for being the ‘blue city’ and it’s in a fabulous mountain setting so we took a look.
The area is lovely and the old town very pretty. But, for us, it’s one of those places that’s just tipped over into the ‘ridiculous Disney’ category of tourism. Almost nothing else but souvenir shops and too many fake cute streets pimped up for the Insta crowd.
Just a bit too much of this.
Not for the first time, we said ‘we’re now part of this, so how can we justify getting sniffy?’ We do like to avoid such spots as much as possible, but sometimes you don’t know how far it’s gone until you get there. Sometimes you want to see it regardless.
And yet would I even try to resist taking some sweet blue pictures? Of course not.
Our arrival in Morocco coincided with a busy work spell, so we’ve been doing the juggle of driving time, visiting stuff, working, and all the usual day-to-day shenanigans. We were also planning big bodywork jobs for Ivy and actually had a bit of a schedule to get south to Zagora for a certain date. This is my cast-iron excuse for being so tardy with the first blog. :)
When it’s busy like that we have to make choices about what to see and what to skip. Long detours into the wilds have to wait. I get the FOMOs sometimes, but then I give myself a sharp slap. I am exceedingly grateful that we’re even able to work so remotely.
I have to pinch myself that work breaks involve going to see monkeys, wandering through an ancient city, driving through an unbelievable gorge or sitting on a dune in the Sahara…
But that’s all for next time. Work aside, we’ve packed it in during our first month and I’m already playing catch-up. See you soon for the next one.
Having so much fun reading you. Please continue
Loving your adventures Paula. Enjoy every moment. xxx