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You are about to embark on a 24 hour-long Moroccan journey that will have you seeing a new corner of the world, full of contrasts and colors under cloudless skies.
(We'd ask you to close your eyes, but you should probably keep reading.)
Swaying back and forth with Atlantic swells, you watch as the white port grows closer. A quick 30-minute ferry from Tarifa, Spain, brings you across the Straight of Gibraltar and into a "whole new world" (to quote our beloved Aladdin). Your journal's blank pages await you, and with camera in hand, you step off the ferry and step foot on to Africa.
Deciding to bypass Tangier (as crowded port cities aren't your cup of Moroccan mint tea while traveling), you head straight for the Grand Taxi depot. Here, you negotiate a low price to get you to your city of choice in an old Mercedes taxi that should seat 4 but crams in 7 to get the most out of your dirham (10 dirham=1 euro). Your two best friends at each side, you finally arrive to your destination, legs numb, and are immediately bombarded by five or more locals offering restaurants, hotels, hashish, among other things. "La shukran (no thanks)," you respond -- at least 10 times before they give up and search for other, easier tourist bate -- and begin your mission to find a place to stay. Hostels are more than affordable; at $5 a night you find a cheerful, but chilly, spot to rest your tired head. The shower may not be warm, but you can always bath in a hammam (local bath house) in the morning.
Finding dinner is easy, and you feast on a meal suit for a sultan for another 50 dirham. Tajine (a stew with meat/chicken/fish and spices), cous cous, Moroccan soup, orange juice and amazing pillow bread are shared between the three of you. No wine served in this 98.7% Muslim country, but you enjoy your first of many Moroccan mint teas and retire before the clock strikes 11pm (a welcomed change from the Spanish style bedtime -- usually as the sun comes up -- as Morocco shuts down before midnight).
You awake to bright morning just as the mist rises to offer a sunny day. The first of five daily prayers sounds from mosques on loud speakers over the city. Heading to the central plaza, you fuel up to explore: fresh fruit juice, famous crepe bread with honey and cheese, and strong coffee. With money divided between pockets in big, medium and small bills (ideal for bargaining purposes), you enter the keyhole-shaped medina door for a few hours of aimless wandering through tiny streets. Each Moroccan city has a medina -- to clarify, the medina WAS the city a few hundred years ago, but due to expansion, now serves as the city center and shopping/residential district.
Almost as quickly as you turn the first corner, a "friend" pops out of nowhere and introduces himself. "I'm Abdul. I like practicing English. What is your name? How long have you been in Morocco? I don't want money, just conversation. Have you seen a traditional pharmacy?..." Before you know it, Abdul is walking beside you (even though you've mentioned at least five times that you'd prefer to explore on your own). He beckons you to step inside a rug shop for some complementary mint tea. Despite your apprehension, you somehow find yourself sitting in front of a man displaying carpet after carpet (leather jacket after leather jacket, ceramic bowl after ceramic bowl, what have you). "They 
don't burn. They don't weigh nothing. They very strong. They cheap."
You insist, "but we're broke teachers. We don't have enough."
"How much you have. Don't tell me you have no money. Lowest price? I won't be offended."
Before you know it, you've acquired a carpet for 150 dirham. Abdul smiles as carpet man nods in his direction, indicating he can return later to collect commission.
Snapping photos of the colorful handicrafts and food, you avoid getting hit by heavily packed donkeys and carts stacked high. In one eyeful you see leather handbags, fruit stands, silk scarves, paintings, pottery, meat stands (complete with camel or goat heads hanging to indicate what kind of meat is for sale), traditional jellabahs (clothing), odd-looking musical instruments, kebabs and antique shops. The smells make your stomach rumble one minute and churn the next, and you eventually find the medina exit.
You exit the medina, exhausted, and locate the tallest point you can find. You arrive there by foot to better orient yourself above the city. Nearby mountains beckon you to continue onward to catch the sunset beside goats and rivers. The three of you stand speechless at the sight of the orange Moroccan sun drifting down behind the horizon. What a day! Your patience was tested, senses stimulated, and your stomach has grown sore with laughter. With all you've seen and learned, the day feels like a week. Your mind can hardly process it all; you question the lifestyle you are so accustomed to, realizing there is such a variety of ways to live in this world, and none can be valued more than another. You pick up your journal and scribble these contemplations before giving into your exhaustion and decide to retreat back into town to search for a hostel with hot water, inshallah (if god wills!).
View Larger MapHighlights:
The serendipity that exists when traveling. On a day hike to "God's Bridge", we met the two most fantastic Aussies we could have asked for, and began the remainder of our journey as a five some: Evan, Ryan, Claire, Jenna and Jono. The hike through mist-covered mountains felt magical, and was just what we needed after a few long days in the medina.
Chefchaouen, hidden between folds of the Riff Mountains, welcomed us with its picture-esq sky-blue buildings and mellowness.
- We brought in 2009 with special Spanish friends from Asturias, Ryan's director Paco and his family (Luisa, Jorge and Jaime) in Fes. Mosque visits and medina wandering with them was divertidisimo!
- All in one day, we had Claire's Camera, Ryan's 120 gb Ipod, speakers and cell phone, and Jono's wallet stolen. A tax to Morocco? Rather than dwelling on the loss, we left the next day for the Sahara, happy to have our health, family and friends, far more valuable than material possessions.
- We brought in 2009 with special Spanish friends from Asturias, Ryan's director Paco and his family (Luisa, Jorge and Jaime) in Fes. Mosque visits and medina wandering with them was divertidisimo!
One word: Sahara. Let the photos do the talking! Our three days in orange sands with Mohammed and Maki, our 20-year-old tour guides, were unforgettable and equally indescribable. 12-hour road trip in 1960's Mercedes, complete with monkey stops and the largest oasis in Africa, brought us deep into the dunes, where we shared two nights with members of a traditional Berber tribe. We played drums, sang and fire danced under the bright Saharan stars. To watch sunrise from atop a 400ft-tall dune, our tents and camels far below, brought huge smiles.
Our final stop, Essaouira, a peaceful city on the Atlantic coast, had us catching some of the most amazing sunsets of the trip. We acquired Moroccan tunes at a music shop with fun owners and gave into our bargaining impulses for the first time. Oh, Morocco!
If you have any winter holiday adventures to share, we missed you all greatly this holiday season and would love to hear from you!
Please drop us an email: clapoma@gmail.com or rharperoregon@gmail.com.
For our condensed photo album: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2212126&l=4b538&id= 11506824
For the long version (family and travel friends must check out!!): http://picasaweb.google.com/clapoma/OhMorocco#
