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.

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.