Chilling by the Seaside

We pulled into Essaouira just in time to see the sunset, which was rather exceptional as we first had a view of the whole city with the Atlantic Ocean and setting sun, and then we pulled into the harbour just as the sun was dipping below the horizon. If there was something exceptional, even more so than the city as a whole, were the sunsets. Each night was amazing and each night was unique. This was one of the easiest commutes between my inter-city transport and the next hostel. I had about 500 metres to cover and after looking at the map (and choosing the bus that dropped me off closest), I was able to beat my way past (or at least elbow) the awaiting "cart-men" willing to drag your luggage or parcels to a given location. I walked through the city walls, which are in an impressive shape, and walk down the main road until I reached my little off road (the alleyways were even labelled!). Nevertheless, I wandered down the alley a couple times before a group of boys pointed me in the right direction. After I rang the buzzer, one of the owners hurried over as he had been out at the shop.

The hostel is quite quaint, but has a nice atmosphere and great people. There are three levels: main has two sleeping rooms, a little living room, a tiny kitchen, and the main washroom; the second level has another sleeping room, a toilet, and an outdoor living area; and finally the top is an open patio with a great view of the city. As with most good hostels, you can tell it is a winner as the same people you hung out with at the last (good) one were, are, or show up there! There were almost ten people I had met in Marrakech who had either beat me there or showed up while I was there, which is kind of nice as you don't even need to be travelling with others to still be social on the road.

As with every new start in a city, I wandered, slightly haplessly, around the city within its walls. It is quite a small city, but has a very nice vibe with lots of artistic folks. Although I didn't feel as if there was quite as much available as there was in Marrakech, and from what I've heard Fez, there were definitely more unique and smallscale endeavours and some lovely calligraphy art shops. As in the other places, I refrained from buying any major souvenirs, which after seeing people lugging theirs around and knowing I have a great deal of time on the road left, I only minorly regret. Eventually I landed on a little cafe in the middle of the medina and had an herb omelette and some moroccan tea. I also met a lady from England who was also travelling and looking for someone who would be up for going out. We made plans to meet up the next evening to head out to some of the night venues.

The next day, not having a particular set itinerary, I set out to see the port, the Skala du port, and the Citadel. It was neat to walk through all the little blue boats, and bigger ones, as well as the fishers trying to sell their day's catch. Climbing up the Citadel, I got a nice view of the city, its walls, the port, and the Ile de Mogador. Being a nice sunny and warm day (until the wind got to me), I sat up in the top of the citadel and just took in the scenary and sunrays! Once I got a little chilly, I headed down and grabbed some freshly squeezed, orange, grapefruit, and lemon juice from one of the local stands. Then I headed down the beach for a couple kilometres both ways. It was a nice way to spend my first day, in the laidback city.

The beach was quite active, I think it being Friday helped. There were families out enjoying the weather; boys and kids out playing soccer; people learning to surf and kitesurf; a few foreigners sunbathing; and horses and camels available for rides. I just meandered along the sand, accidently soaking my sandals when I neared the water (birkenstocks aren't the most water friendly). Thankfully as I carried them, they dried off pretty quickly and seemed to have recovered better than when my last pair went into the Pacific and Mediterranean! The first stretch of sand was very clean and nice to walk along, as I got to the part where the camels and horses were kept, it became quite full of poop. After dogding the excrement, I was then greeted by garbage strewn along the sand. As with all the areas that are not kept 'clean', plastic is by far the biggest - and sometimes only - pollutant (visible) whether it be sandals, yogurt containers, jugs, or plastic bags. Everything else seems to be reused or disposed of somehow, unfortunately plastic is not that maleable or useful after its first usage. Once I had made it to the end of the beach - I could have crossed, but didn't want to - I made my way back. In order to take in the most of the sunset, I chose a restaurant that was on the plaza/square near the city walls, port, citadel, and ocean. Not only was the sunset a delight, but local families came out in droves, which provided good people-watching. Although I was not hassled during dinner - in Marrakesh, people would try and sell you cigarettes, tissues, etc, as well as polish your shoes throughout your meals - there were a large number of beggars all throughout the city. As I was nearing the end of my trip, I decided to enjoy another tajine, but with fish as I figured it would be fresh. It indeed was quite tasty, but not as enjoyable as my meals in Marrakesh - although I did listen to a Montreal couple talk about Canada to their local real estate agent.

Later that evening, I met up with the lady and a local musician she had met earlier. We headed off to the first place, which was a really nice, roof-top terrace near the port. A local band was playing when we arrived - an Algerian song I know and like, Aicha by Cheb Khaled - and they were really good. It was a really nice place that was laid back and had a good atmosphere. After the band finished, a younger guy started to DJ, which was entertaining as it was mostly Western pop music, but it was still good. Although it is possible to drink in Muslim countries, I don't suggest partying in them as they tend to be pricy (6-15 CAD per drink), as well as it can be looked down upon. That being said, the next place we went to was a club where the girls looked on par with Western girls and there was booze aflow. There was another local singer who was quite good, but the atmosphere was not quite as enjoyable as the first one, Taros Cafe.

The next day, after a very fulling and delicious breakfast, I headed out to buy a few groceries and wander another part of the city. This time I ventured north, which brought me to the local market, which were stalls - tarps on the ground and tables with merchadise, and carts full of produce - all along what is normally a street. There was everything you could want from food to clothes and home maintenance items. It was definitely interesting and much different from the markets established for foreigners, it also helped that I was one of the very few foreigners throughout the mayhem. I ended up buying some mandarines and bananas from the market and then getting some dates, figs, and almonds. Once I wound my way back to the hostel, I had a tasty lunch of hard boiled eggs, fresh bread, strawberries, banana, mandarins, and yogurt. Then I set out, for the second attempt, to find the bus station to buy my ticket to Casablanca. As with most things in Essaouira, the bus station was definitely more local than previous, bigger cities. There were people trying to sell tickets on smaller (rickity) lines, less signage, and more general disrepair.

Another another delightful breakfast, I headed back to the bus station with my pack in tow as even the far station was only a kilometre away. I have to say that was one of the places I most did not want to leave and even hung out on the rooftop patio for a bit before I dragged myself away. On my way, I saw a really nice torquoise kaftan that I was tempted by. He told me it was 900 dirhams (125 CAD), but I knew that if I had had the energy and time I could have gotten it down to at least 450 dirhams (60 CAD), if not lower. I probably could have done it that day, but I was a little stressed and not in the mood to drink tea and try and haggle my way down. The bus ended up arriving 45 minutes late so I just stood around the station - I was going to have to sit for six hours. I watched as everyone boarded their buses; a homeless man kept getting kicked out of his sleeping spots; a poor little dog was looking for scraps and quite friendly; and workers drank tea and socialized while sitting in the luggage compartment of buses.

I am now about to move into my apartment near the university. I have been in Amman, Jordan for a week now and have started classes. I will work on finishing up Morocco and a intro to Amman soon - as well as keeping up with my homework!

The lunch I made myself after going to the market - mmmm tasty & fresh!

The fantastic breakfast made by the hostel staff, soooo good. 

View of the sunset from the hostel's rooftop patio. 

View of the sunset from the city walls with the citadel and the Ile of Mogador in sight. 

The bus station in Essaouira - the friendly little pup, the homeless man trying to sleep, and one of the buses from the company I travelled on to Casablanca. 

Expedition: Sahara

Almost as I had planned, I booked a two day/1 night trip to the 'desert' with the main attraction being riding camels. As with all trips and places, it was much cheaper and very easy to book a trip once I was in the city (especially as the hostel will practically do it for you). It cost 650 dirham, which included dinner, breakfast, drive, camels, night accomodation, star gazing, and a camp fire (tips, water, and lunches not included). After I had signed up, four others from the same hostel signed up, which worked out really well as we became a little group of our own. There was one Peruvian and three siblings, two sisters and a brother from Australia, and me in our group. It happened to be one of the busiest nights at the camp with about sixty visitors where there is usually twenty or thirty maximum, but it didn't seem full.

It was a couple of early mornings, but I was awake by five and listened to the wake up call (530) and the first call to prayer (0600) that morning. I accidently nodded off until 630, which meant my shower, packing, and breakfast were a little more hasty than intended. As we were off for only one night, I brought only a few things in my two smaller bags, leaving my pack at the hostel. We were picked up at seven and after getting another group were seemingly off. We made it about five minutes out before we stopped and pilled out of the tour bus. What followed next was the seamless shuffle of all the tourists, as well as a local old man (still not sure where he fit in)...by that I mean, an army-like, on-the-bus off-the-bus episode. As everyone got shuffled into buses depending on their group size and selected tour (one or two nights), our crew was left standing on the sidewalk. To me this seemed all too normal so we waited, mostly patiently.

At last we were directed towards a gold van, which turned out to be probably the best scenario. For the most part, we were free runners (and heavy on the gas pedal so usually "first") and there was only five of us rather than the groups of 16 in each bus! Only realizing on the second day, we stuffed ourselves in the back rows (3 in the back, two in the middle) forgoing the front passenger seat until I asked if I could sit up there on the second morning. The only downside to said excursions was that you spend a good chunk of each day seated in a vehicle (even the three day version). Nevertheless, the views that we were afforded were worth the slight nuisance (although we got rather lazy). I had initailly scoffed when I heard that the landscapes in Morocco were impressive; however that they are.

On both days we covered approximately 400 kilometres. After getting a puncture in the front left tire speedily repaired, we headed out of Marrakech and started ascending the Atlas mountains. Despite being renowned for its desert, Morocco has snow and even a ski resort! It had been a little chilly in the morning, but by mid morning it was nice and toasty even with the wind when we popped out of the van at rest stops. Of all the groups, I'm pretty sure we bought the least souvenirs and trinkets - limiting ourselves to water and chocolate. Along the way, we also stopped at a traditional Berber village, which has been used as a movie set since Lawrence of Arabia to the Game of Thrones. We had a great guide who showed us the insides of one of the homes - sheep and all - before we scampered up to the top for some more impressive views.

For me the most impressive views were those of the mountains that looked as if they were crumbling to pieces, which I think they are, but ever so slowly. It looks as if they were smashed and massive blocks of rock are tumbling down, frozen in time. The pass we took included 19 kilometres of 'dangerous' winding road through them. The entire drive was only two lanes with tons of passing motor vehicles - us included - anything from grand taxis (old Mercedes cars) to dangerous goods, fuel carrying trucks. Oh and the safety barriers were less than reassuring, when they were there and still standing. That being said, I think my fear of heights has lessened as looking down the cliffs as we sped on wasn't completely terrifying, just a tad worrisome. Our driver, Houcine (I might have forgotten to ask till the second day) was very adept at speeding along the roads, and despite the one near headon collision with an old semi, I had faith in his skills from the get go (which considering the drive was reassuring). Also talking to people who went on the same trip, or the longer one, had less than stellar reviews of their drivers so I guess we lucked out.

By five o'clock we were nearing our destination with one last pit stop for water, and chocolate. We arrived first and hopped on the camels with relative ease - they are much trickier than horses, at first. Having become "part of the staff" as the default translator, I got to get up first. You mount the saddle while they are seated, but when they stand up it is like an amusement park. When they say hold on, they mean hold on. First, you go far back as the camel lifts his front legs, then all the forward as he lifts his rear legs, and finally tipping forward you can settle into place. Once our crew was settled, off we trotted towards the camp. The sun was starting to set and the moment that it was going behind the mountains we stopped and turned around to take in the view. After about an hour and a half ride, we had made it to the camp. It was then that I realized I had paid for something similar to what I usualy get paid to do - drive for long distances, wait, get on/off the bus, get and stay up late, be fed, and sleep in tents; nevertheless, it was worth it.

We briefly settled into our tent, also conveniently arranged for five - rather swanky berber tent with mattresses, blankets, a bulb, an outlet (not sure if it worked), flooring, and a door - before going into the main dinning tent for tea. I'm not sure if I have yet to talk about tea yet, but it is quite the 'thing' in Morocco. Essentially, it is black tea steeped with mint leaves and then a good chunk of sugar is added (heave on the chunk). It is rather tasty and I would venture to say addictive. In order to balance out this new sugar intake, I ended up drinking my coffee with milk only. Once we had filled up on tea and talking with our guide, we were served bread and tajine in a very large pot. Despite being the smallest group around a tajine, we finished all the food to the last drop. Indulging in some chocolate back in the tent.

The rest of the evening we spent outside, first around a bonfire where the guides sang berber songs and then laying on a blanket gazing at the stars. I tried to follow along with the conversation in Spanish between the guide and the Peruvian, I did managed to understand the topics - berber & technology (solar power, cellphones), Islam & marriage (1 versus 4 brides), and the tensions between Morocco and Algeria in the Sahara, amongst others. Finally at midnight, we decided to pack it in between being chilly (despite being wrapped up in two blankets and huddled together) and somewhat tired. At least we lucked out with a dry and clear night, others were not so lucky!

As the sparky morning person I can be, I was awake before the 630 wakeup call and got to annoying provide the reveille for our tent. As we got up and packed up, it was a quick breakfast of bread and jam with coffee or tea, before we set off on the camels back to our awaiting, golden chariot. Some of the local kids were around trying to get coins from the tourists, but as I've been avoiding giving children any money and the others didn't seem too intent, they only got a few items of food the others had around. Once we pilled back in the vehicle we were off, back in the direction of Marrakech. For those of you with a map, we made it south of Ouarzazate.

The drive back was just as interesting as the drive there, although I was now in the front seat and, although not overly chatty, talked to the driver as we drove back. Most of the  van was asleep for a good portion of the drive and he asked how much sleep well all got (six hours). After he scoffed, I failed to mention that if I wasn't being polite and sitting in the front seat, I too most likely would have nodded off. Then again he was rather tired and exhausted having not had a day off in over six months - apparently common in the tourism industry in Morocco. Even, jokingly I think, offered me the keys so that I could drive for a while. Although tempted, I decided not to volunteer too enthousiatically. 

During the drive, we stopped a movie studio that had also been the site of several movie scenes (none that were memorable), but it was interesting to see them in person. We eventually stopped for lunch at the beginning of the snow line in the Atlas mountains. It offered a good view and a satisfying meal. Once I had called him over (knowing names is so very useful), we were about to set off when he noticed that the tire that had initially been punctured was now flat. While they set to changing it (not my speciality), we wondered off to see if there was a convenience store nearby as we were on a quest for chocolate. When he had asked if we wanted to leave, I had responded with yes, but with a stop for chocolate - at least we provide entertainment! Once the tire was changed, we set off and finally found a place with chocolate bars (milka!) and water, which happened to be beside the butcher's with a fresh cows head and goat carcas on display.

We were off once again! Eventually, he figured out I was learning and knew some Arabic took it upon himself to cover things as we past them - for example: oued means river and there were a lot of dry, river banks with that sign. Apparently in a couple months, I could be fluent (enough) and in a year or so have a handle on the berber languages. The latter was a common theme, that I ought to learn the berber languages (only three of them) - I'm not sure if it was an inside joke that I missesd or a sincere idea. Throughout the trip we listened to his varied, music taste, there was a mix of Celine Dion, Justin Bieber, James Blunt, Cheb Khaled (after I asked), unknown Arab music, and select Spanish hits. The selection was a hit and often started a few sing-a-longs and/or laughs. It even resulted in the purchase of a CD at the market the next day - an Arabic song about Al Pacino. It was a smooth journey the rest of the way, other than needing a bathroom break where were none (I refrained from asking as everyone wanted to get back).

On our drive back throughout Marrakech, Houcine took us by the King's palaces which was neat as I didn't end up seeing them any other time. We also managed to hit 'rush hour' which was entertaining and a little maddening. After lumbering out of the van, rather commatosely, we said farewell and gave him a good tip (I'm too Canadian to not tip for services well rendered and hard work). He gave me his number on a business card, but as with being friendly and smiling, further interactions can be seen in the wrong light, which can be rather frustrating and restrictive. Overall, despite being relatively expensive (in total 135 CAD for two days), I think we all enjoyed it and now can say we have ridden camels in the Saharan Desert (well, at least very close by).

I am now off to see my first apartment in Amman. It is a three bedroom apartment with two other female expats with decent rent (250 JD/400 CAD per month) in a good area; however, it is still far away from school and unless I can figure out a good way of commuting (i.e. determining a bus route) I am hesitant to take it. I will work on the entry for Essaouira, Casablanca, a recap on Spain & Morocco and the first for Amman in the next few days; however, I will busier with school preparations (registration, indoc, placement exam, and classes).

-Alex

PS: as I only brought my camera on this expedition, I do not have any photos to share at this time.

Mazes of Marrakech

Chugging into Marrakech, I awoke to the sun shining and still rather cozy despite only having a sheet on me (at this point that was one of the few nights I was warm). After getting my bunkmate's phone number - she offered assistance if I ever needed any while in Marrakech - I toddled off to find a taxi. Compared to Spain, I have found myself using taxis much more often and living a more costly day to day life, despite the seemingly cheap costs. In order to find a taxi that wouldn't gauge me, I exited via the side door and found an old man dropping people off - versus taxis waiting out front. After making sure that he was using the compteur, we were off and that's when I noticed the Marathon runners - I was a little suspicious of the foreigners in spandex until I realized it was an organized event! After a ten minute drive, we made it to the traffic circle that I had asked for, which had resulted in some confusion. The trend I'm noticing about studying city maps as a pre-arrival strategy is that elevation and distance are not properly or accurately identified, which makes translating the map information on-the-ground a little trickier.

Eventually we found the traffic circle, which turned out to be much tinier and dingier than I had anticipated. I hopped out, not quite sure if I actually was at the right place, and accidentally gave him a rather enormous tip - ATM and change bureaus typically only give out 200 dirams when the most useful are 5 & 10 coins, and 20 & 50 bills - and most people don't have change or they begrudgingly get it. So after winding my way to the street where the hostel was, I managed to do two laps of the main alley way till I stopped and ask a corner store (the Moroccan equivalent) where the hostel might be. He was very helpful and knew exactly where it was. I had to turn down a side road and then follow as it veered left then right until I reached a dead end and only found it due to its house number. There was a definite lack of signage (as in, none). As I got settled into the hostel, they invited me to have breakfast with the other guests. There was a group from Wales and a couple students on exchange in Holland. After breakfast, my room was sorted out, I had changed, and was invited to spend the day exploring the city with the couple of students.

I followed along with their itinerary as I hadn't set one out, we started by visiting two old palaces that were between ruins and a little past their prime. The King also has two palaces in Marrakech, as well as a residence, but they are closed to the public. Apparently in each big city through the country he holds two or three places -  seems a little excessive to me - but I guess that's what you get when you are a monarch. It seems that having practice reading maps and then losing myself within cities helped me find the places that we visited and oddly enough it felt relatively easy. After touring the palaces, as well as a modern art gallery in one of them and taking each other's photos, we wandered off to the spice market. Despite all the beckoning, the market was very colourful and aromatic with everything from tea to sandalwood (whole), as well as the standard jasmin, ginger, cumin, etc. After getting a 'nose-full', we headed for the main square in the old Medina for lunch. The place that we went to - and subsequently went to often - had good food at good prices with friendly staff, quick service, and no hassles. A typical lunch there included avocado and orange juice, an omelet, tajine or couscous (lamb or chicken), yogurt, and sweet mint tea (total 47-52 dirham plus tip = 8 CAD). Which is one of the reasons it has been harder to keep making my own food rather than eating out all the time, it hasn't helped that the kitchens in the hostels in Morocco tend to be smaller and somewhat segregated.

The Medina in Marrakech is very impressive, only once you get very deep into the small alley ways do you finally reach the end of the souks (markets). Most of the stalls in the Medina sell a combination of food: produce, dates & nuts, meat (cooked & raw), citrus juices, sweets & pastries; and bread; souvenirs: scarves, leather slippers, kafkans, metal lantern & light fixtures, and ceramic dishes (tajine pots); and clothing: shirts, pants, caps & beanies, pyjamas (lots), etc. There are also shops for electronics, phones, home goods, linen, and pretty much everything you can think of - there are also corner shops that usually have a a selection of water, pop, juice, yogurt, butter, jam, nutella, chocolate bars, bread (fresh), and an assortment of other (usually) edible. The only thing I dislike about the souks is that they all try and get your attention - "hello", "excuse me", "where are you from", "lady gaga?", "student? OK I'll make you a good price", etc - which gets tiring after a while and makes me less inclined to go into that particular shop. I've even gotten into the habit of responding while I carrying on walking - whoever is trying to get you do buy or do something will give up once you leave his area, as well as avoiding unnecessary eye-contact.

Another fun and unique feature about Marrakech, and most of Morroco, is learning to dodge all sorts of traffic. Not only does crossing the street or round-a-bouts require some talent and constant vigilance, but the tiny alley ways are full of pedestrians, merchandise, donkeys, horses, carts, bycicles, and mopeds. If there is something that is well used in Morocco that is horns - as warnings, requests, let's goes, thank-yous, and welcomes. Despite the seemingly chaotic scenario, I never felt worried about getting run over, despite the honks and occasional sounds of displeasure - as a given vehicle or animal is coming in your direction - they gave you warning and are very adept at dogding people, things, and other moving objects. Due to a lack of need, space, and resources, personal cars were rare sights. Vehicularly, the streets are filled with petit & grand taxis, scooters & mopeds, buses, donkeys & horses, tourism vehicles, police & military vehicles, and bicycles.

The nice thing about staying in hostels is not only are they cheap, but you get to meet a lot of people - as with most houses, the hostels here have nice seating areas on the roofs, which make great social areas, until it gets a little chilly and then people usually pull out the blankets. Unfortunately, quite a few days in Marrakech ended up being rather chilly and rainy - things Moroccan homes are not built for. A couple of the days, most of us huddled in the indoor seating areas, under blankets, reading.

As my last full day in the city was one of those dreary days, I didn't end up going to get my bus ticket to Essaouira the day before, which is advised. So on the day of, after having breakfast, I got a cab (not my top bartering example) and paid a much-inflated price to the station. Once I got there, I found out the next bus was sold out so it would be five hours later. After hesitating and asking if there was somewhere to leave my pack, I bought the ticket and paid for my bag (found out later, you have to pay even if you just want the bag put under the bus). Again, another benefit to having a smaller pack and why I want to swap my day pack for a collapsible one is that I could have brought my pack on board and not have to worry about it getting snatched from below. As I had almost five hours to spare and pack-less, I decided to walk back into town. I stopped in the cyber park - free Wifi - and spent some time on the net. At that point I had noticed the police and military members who lined the streets and had remembered that the King was going to be in and around Marrakech that day. So when I reached the main city mosque and saw a crowd starting to form, I decided to stop and watch the festivities. In the end, seeing the King lasted about 10 seconds, despite being at the front of the barricade (with a Moroccan flag and a headshot of a much younger King). Watching the festivities and crowds had been much more interesting, exciting, and educational. It had been interesting to see that there always seems to be a "female-area" develop - waiting in Gibraltar for the ferry all the females were on the same bench (except me) and at this event a gaggle of women formed around me and another lady who got much closer to me after her friends left. Once he had arrived, I scooted off to quickly grab some lunch (at my go-to restaurant) before dashing back to the bus station. However, as buses tend to arrive and depart (30 min+) late, as well as other means of transport, so there was a good wait before heading to Essaouira.

I finished this entry while sitting on the six hour bus ride to Casablanca so far it's been an uneventful ride and my biggest hope is that my bag is still there once we pull in (really who would want to lug it away anyways...). And I did make myself pack my lunch today, which consisted of hard boiled eggs, bread, mandarins, bananas, a dessert-thingy (chocolate & peanut puff...), some almonds, figs, and dates. Other than the maggot that I found after betting into my date, it was quite good. Unfortunately this driver and/or route are not condusive to typing so I will work on the Sahara entry while in Casablanca and the Essaouira and Casablanca entries on my way to Jordan.

-Alex

One of the main arteries from the main road to the Medina & souks - this is the road I wandered down a couple times before finding my hostel. When I took this picture everthing was closed, but imagine that shops on both sides are open with products on the either side, there are pedestrians walking both ways with bycicles, donkeys, and mopeds winding through. It makes for quite the cluster!

Waiting on the bus to leave for Essaouira - took Supratours which is affiliated with the national train (ONCF) which runs buses where their trains don't go. 

The intended photo of the cyber-park that I had tried to upload while I was there!

(I finally figured out how to put explanations with each photo when using the blogger app.) 

Next post - the desert -  to come shortly!

Delays in Posts

Hi all,

There will be another delay as I have limited internet access and am not sure when I'll have decent enough internet to upload everything. In the mean time, I'll finish writing the entries as I make my way from Morocco to Jordan!

-Alex

Picture from today in Casablanca at the Hassan Mosque.

Sailing to Africa & Arriving in Morocco

After my day exploring Gibraltar, it was time to get ready for my move to Africa. Busing back to the airport to get my bag and back to the city; I ended up going to the old (now closed) ferry terminal. After getting directions from the customs agent, I hurried my way to the cruise terminal (down the road). I was sure I was in the right spot when I arrived at a group of Arab men who were standing around with all their stuff and waiting outside of the gate - they only let pedestrians through once the boat is on its way. So I, somewhat awkwardly, jointed the awaiting group. It turned out that there were only two of us that were not Moroccan - the other being a Gibraltarian who had made the crossing many times. I ended up following him around as he knew the ropes and I was rather out of my element. Apparently he no longer made the trip via Algeciras or Tarifa due to the souring relations between Gibraltar and Spain, which has caused issues at the border.

Once the boat was on route, we were allowed through and after going through "security" (I was waived through) we moved to the waiting lounge. After another hour of waiting there was finally signs of impending departure. Once we boarded the ferry, via the car deck, we scurried upstairs and went through the passport control officer. After filling out a small form with our basic information, we saw the officer who checked that we filled everything out, entered something on a computer, and, rather violently, stamped our passports. As I was standing behind the Gibraltarian (one of the Moroccans had inquired as to whether I was with him), one of the Moroccan women pulled me to the side - what I understood to be the proper procedure for women. However, it caused a little confusion as the passport officer thought I was budging and tried to tell me to go to the back of the line until the lady piped up in my favour. The sail was rather uneventful other than a German lady being shocked that I was going to Morocco without covering my hair. Once we arrived, we all scampered off and had our passport stamps verified. At that point we went to find the bus to Tangier as we had arrived in the new port, a good 45 minutes away from the city.

Once the bus arrived (coach style) there was a little confusion/delay until we were able to board and head out. It was a smooth ride, but not that interesting as it was pitch dark. For a reason unknown to me, the guy behind me had his GPS on and it kept trying to give him directions - rather annoying. Arriving at the apparent bus terminal (in the day the actual place is visible), I hopped off the bus with a game plan - having previously downloaded a guidebook on my tablet, I found an entry of a hotel that offered Wifi and was decently priced. So after telling the man who was trying to "help" me (according to him he was an official from the bus company), I just told him I had everything prepared and walked away despite his protests. In reality, I had a place in mind and an idea of how to get here. So I wandered to where I saw taxis lined up - later realizing that they were grand taxis and not city, petit taxis. I walked up to one of the drivers and asked to go to Holland Road - managing (I think/thought) to agree on 50 Dirhams (rather than the initial 100) with another driver, we set off. My driver turned out to be extremely helpful and interested in my travels. He brought me straight to the hotel and despite looking disappointed at the 55 Dirham I pulled out, left on a friendly note. I walked up to the, thankfully 24 hour, reception and asked for a room. He looked a little surprised, but hopped up - and after stopping to fix a washroom - showed me a room. It was nothing glorious, but at that point I just needed somewhere to lay my head. So I went back down to finish the booking for the night.

I ended up talking to the employee and a reporter who had popped his head out to see what was going on. They were both friendly and interested in my travels and studies; however, being rather frazzled and tired it was not my top notch performance. In the morning, I finally dragged myself out of bed to pay for a second night so that I could keep my room for the day before leaving that night to Marrakech on the night train. Breakfast was a little meagre as I only had the snacks that I had been carrying with me and was too lazy to move very quickly. First stop was the train station, preferring to walk my way around, I looked up the directions on Google Maps and with a vague to decent idea of where I was going headed off. As I left, the morning receptionist looked rather surprised at my presence as well, but then again so did the cleaning ladies. As I trotted down the main avenue, it wasn't too much of a shocker, especially after coming from Europe it was easier to see the influences. Although there was a definite predominance of men, especially in cafes, and most women were wearing hijabs, etc. It was a decent hike of not knowing where I was going, but having to follow the major road definitely helped - being overly keen I did take one wrong turn and had to turn myself around through rather muchy streets (I prefer to not back track when possible). Finally, I reached a rather large round-about with four large arteries and what looked as if it could be a train station - also the new developments were becoming fewer. It ended up being the station and I bought a ticket for a bunk bed on the train to Marrakech, a ten hour trip.

For the remainder of the day, I wandered back to the hotel after grabbing some groceries then headed out to wander through the Medina (the old city), which was filled with tiny streets (dead ends that I found frequently). There were many merchants trying to sell everything from produce, clothing & shoes, fish & meat, toys, and everything and anything else you could want - quality varying. After making about three laps of the Medina - it's pretty small in comparison to other cities - I decided to find my way down to the old port. As there were a good number of people - follow the people - I carried on walking along what looked like a seawall. Well that's because it was, but think Stanley Park without the squirrels, trees, and bikes. At this point between travelling and already walking almost 10 kilometres, I was a little tuckered and was hoping my walk would be over soon. It lasted another good five kilometres as I finally made it around the city walls (all very hilly) and wound my way back to the hostel - stopping for a chicken shawarma. The seawall was neat to walk along, I got to see the city from a different angle including the sheep, garbage (plastic), and old constructions, as well as watch the people along the way. Once back, I packed up my ruck once again and then curled up for a pre-snooze, snooze then trotting off to get my train.

Not wanting to get into another Grand Taxi - they are taxis that are typically old Mercedes that go between cities, charge more, and fill up to 6 passengers - I walked toward the main street. Coming to the realization that it seemed to be rush hour and most drivers weren't keen on picking someone up with a pack, the size of mine, I trotted off towards the station at a good pace (my quick tempo). Making it there still half an hour before the scheduled departure, I was in good time, not too sweaty, and a little more revived. Once the platform appeared on the screen, I went through and found my compartment with the assistance of one of the employees - knowing French is extremely handy here, although it means my very rusty Arabic is staying in the background (Dari comes to mind easier still).

As I waited in my little berth, I thought I might luck out and have it all to my lonesome, but another lady popped in having only bought her ticket then (I was basing occupancy on the fact that only my linen had been put out). We eventually got talking and I found out that she lives in Marrakech, but is from Tangier. Not wanting to pry too much, I am presuming she was visiting family and on her way home. As with good Moroccan generosity and hospitality, she welcomed me to Morocco and offered me part of her pizza - the offering when she already ripped into two, says "you can have some", and practically shoves it at me (kindly). So we talked for a bit more about Morocco, Canada, and accidently religion. It all turned out fine, it was more the "opps" factor of what I had opened up. The rest of the ride was quite leisurely, once we closed our door she took off her hiqab and settled in, and I set into typing my previous blog until I was too snoozy.

Parts of the city, culture, and infrastructure do resemble Afghanistan (as it is all that I have to compare within the Middle East) and that is a theme that has so far continued - mud & sand, hospitality & generosity, and social interactions. However, there are definite elements from European influences, as well as prosperity that is greater than Afghanistan at least. Oh and the tea! I almost forgot about the light tea (mint/black or green) with LOTS of sugar - no exaggeration.

Hopefully this entry is as decent as the others, writing it now I am noticing that things are already a little blurred with the next places. I am going to go explore more of Essaouira and will work on writing Marrakech's entry before I leave so that I am back on track.

-Alex

*Pictures include: me & my pack in the Tangier hotel (that's pretty much my look everything time I move); my hotel room in Tangier, the train compartment to Marrakech, and where I was writing most of this entry - eating breakfast in Essaouira.

3 Countries, 2 Continents, and 1 Unexpected Place

*Sorry for the delay, I was having technical difficulties uploading this one. I should have another two up soon (hopefully) as I am now a little behind.*

So I thought that three countries in one day was a good idea; overall it was. It might just have been too much at that point in time during my travels. In the end, it was a good day and everything worked out well, it just was not my most calm day. To start the day, I got ready to leave Spain with a good solid breakfast of churros, coffee, and orange juice - with all the huffing I do each day I should be able to eat some of the treats along the way and not puff up too much. The churros were not quite quite what I thought they would be (could have been the place or just my expectations) as they were rather greasy and without much taste. In good Spanish form, I think, I dipped them in my cafe con leche as I failed to order chocolate and from what I've seen the Spaniards dip everything in their morning coffee - example one guy dipped his bread with butter and jam!

Next up was crossing the border from Spain into Gibraltar. I was rather curious to see this crossing as I had read some countries need visas and that relations with Spain have dramatically soured in the last little while. So in good traveller fashion, I watched to see what the folks in front of me were doing (the locals, of course) and pulled out my passport for the lovely passport control officer, who looked as if she was enduring a polar climat - it was a nippy 10 degrees. Then walked by the next border police who took as good a look as one can as five people walk by with open passports (to the main page) at an upbeat pace. Considering it now, I could have probably stopped and gotten my passport stampted, but I was rather certain that could not be all they would do. Not only to 'rigorously' enforce their border and country, but I was also the one carrying a rather gigantic sack on my back (unfortunately none of you have been privy to my self made, turtle-inspired, walking tunes). I suppose in 7 square miles, it's not as if you're going to disappear off their radar.

I'm not one who typically experiences culture shock per se. I might have issues at times dealing with a new environment but usually I have a understanding of what they might be like and that food, shelter, and transport are all, for the most part, attainable in some sort of fashion. That being said, Gibraltar was a shock to the system; it is a unique and eclectic place. It is a mixture of Spanglish - heavy on the Spanish, but English is perfectly acceptable; British cuisine and heritage - military, police, phone booths, "look left" at crosswalks, the pound; bartering - when I hesitated to buy something she dropped the price by 3 pounds; German buses - "wagon halt" in the buses; and Arab fashion - much better than the British outfits. Meld all those aspects together, as well as a hardy dose of Gibraltarian nationalism, and you've got quite an interesting and perplexing culture. After flying through the border, I went across the way to the airport as I had earlier researched and found that for a few pounds, and an x-ray, you could leave your bag with them. Once liberated from my pack - which weighs in at 15 kilos for those of you who were wondering, as was I - I skipped off to the bus to take me downtown. Another quirk of Gibraltar is that the road between the border and the airport, and town crosses the runway! There were no planes taking off while I was crossing it, but not surprisingly, planes have the right of way.

The main attraction, and by no means disappointing, were the apes! I had bought a one-way cable car ticket to get me up the Rock, but ended up getting a pass to the nature reserve attractions too! Unfortunately, taking into consideration time, I focused primarily on the apes, the view, and briefly the caves - skipping the historical, military tunnels and Moorish castle. The apes were plenty entertaining and very enjoyable to see. As with all creatures, the young ones are the most curious and open to check you out. A little guy, who seemed to be a loner, came to check me out and grabbed my arm and then carried on by playing with part of a balloon. I hadn't quite realized it, but apes and humans do share similar characteristics, and a desire to spend more time with them has developed. Despite the signage, some people do not heed the advice to not have food outside as the apes are very apt at getting thefood, as well as quick and bitey. Therefore, I watched a rather pleased ape have a snack of oreos and a kid be rather scared of the apes. Despite lugging food with me, I had a cheese and sausage sandwich as I didn't want to tempt fate and wasn't allowed to eat non-store bought food. Having bought a one-way ticket and wanting to get in some physical actitvity, I hustled my way down the hill.

At this point, I hadn't bought anything that wasn't consumable but there were a few things that I wanted and/or needed. In La Linea, I had found a camera shop and managed to point my way through buying another 16 GB SD card for my camera. In order to get my camera pictures onto my tablet and blog (and Facebook), my plan is to get them onto a computer from my SD card and put them onto my micro SD card (or email them to myself) but I didn't bring an SD to USB adapter so I found an electronics shop and found one. When I asked how much it was, she told me that it was 9 pounds, not wanting to pay that much I was getting ready to leave when she brought the price down - I was not anticipating that bartering culture had entered Gibraltar. I had also been looking for a pair of silver, stud earrings as I forgot two out of three pairs of earrings I had meant to bring. One of the shops had some earrings that looked to be along the lines of what I wanted so I went in to check out  their selection. I found that the selection that I had been looking at were 50% off! After getting more pounds (as I hadn't anticipated buying things), I bought a pair of round, silver earrings with cut out pattern as I decided, despite being more costly, there was no reason to get the exact same ones that I have. After my "shopping spree" it was time for a good British staple - fish & chips with peas. I also decided a beer would be an appropriate addition, and subsequently found out I highly dislike Foster's.

Well, I had started this entry while I was on the train to Marrakech, but decided sleep was more pressing and have now finished it sitting in a dark (power went out) hostel's common area (a riad type building) surrounded by a bunch of very loud and lively Bosnia-Herzegovinians (I think that's a word). I must now plan the next city and get ready to carry on, I will try and get Tangier and Marrakech's entries done while on the move to the next depending on my transport choice and options.

-Alex