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Mikey and I have been in Essaouira for 3 days now. We said our goodbyes to the Rif family and the mountains on Saturday dec 1st and Rachid drove us to the Tangier train station.

It would have only been 60 dirham each to take a bus to Tangier, but we weren’t organized enough and missed all of the buses heading that way. It was about a 2 hour ride to the station and cost us 500dh. We thought it would only be 400 since the 4 hours to Chouen was 800dh (just doing the math), but whatever, it’s hard to argue with a man when we don’t have any languages in common.

Also, common sense is not universal, Moroccans common sense is often times much different to what we are used to in the US, UK and Australia, so it is hard to tell when we are being screwed over or if we are just misunderstanding the culture.


Once in Tangier we took the 9pm overnight train to Marrakesh. It was a 12 hour ride, but we slept for most of it so it wasn’t too painful. We chose the cheaper seats, 2nd class, instead of the sleeper cart with beds. Since we had the whole cart to ourselves it worked out fine and we both sprawled out on the couches. Since this isn’t the season for tourists we haven’t had to book tickets ahead of time or worry about sharing our carts on the train, but I imagine that during the high season it would be a good idea to book tickets before hand and maybe choose the beds (320dh) over 2nd class seats (90dh).

We arrived in Marrakech around 9am with plans to head straight to Essaouria (we only have until dec 6th before we fly to Prague so we decided to see the beach rather than the hectic city life). We found that the Supratours buses ran right from the train station.

This is one of the two main bus companies in Morocco and the other one is CTM. We had planned to take the 11:15 CTM bus, because I had read that Supratours is more expensive, but it was easier to buy a bus ticket right away rather than search the city for the other company. Our tickets were 65dh each and it cost us 5 dh for each bag stored under the bus. The bus didn’t leave until 10:45 so we took a taxi to the centre (a few drivers offered us rides for 50dh, but we found one for 30. On the way back it was only 20dh, so it is possible to get a cheaper one if you shop around for a second).


Ten minutes later we were in the famous Marrakech square. The shops and stalls were all setting up and the narrow roads were packed with donkeys, bicycles, and crazy scooters whizzing by - we were almost run over a few times. There aren’t any road rules in morocco we’ve come to learn, you just have to be quick. We had some famous, fresh squeezed, 3dh orange juice (better to have them pour it into your own water bottle since they reuse the cups and don’t always wash them well) and Mikey ordered some Moroccan pancakes, his favorite treat so far. We were sick of carrying our backpacks around the square and caught a ride back to the station (about a 10 min drive).

Almost 3 hours later we arrived in Essaouria and were attacked by vulture hotel workers trying to take us to their hotel. We could hardly get off the bus, there were so many guys crowding the doors. We had to say “no its okay we have a place, thanks” about a hundred times, often to the same guy we had just said “no” to 5 seconds before. They don’t give up and they don’t care how much they annoy you, they want to make commission by bringing in business so they don’t stop at anything. It was certainly an experience, but we were pretty used to this Moroccan mentality at this point so we humored them and were polite but eventually got away.

We decided to hop in a 20dh taxi to Riad Dar Afram, our hotel. The driver didn’t speak English but was nodding that he knew Dar Afram and would take us there. He drove us to an old abandoned building and dropped us off. Asshole. We didn’t know the area and believed him that we were at the right place, but after a minute realized he’d taken our money and peeled off so we walked to a phone and called the riad to get directions. It turns out it was about a 3 minute walk from the bus stop and since its inside the medina we couldn’t take a cab, but had to walk. We decided to walk the whole way instead of cab it back - its a small town.

Tim, a nice Aussie guy working at the riad, met us at a café and brought us back to the hotel. Dar Afram is owned by a Australian/Moroccan guy, Abdul. His place is a beautifully decorated 3-story house with a roof terrace that over looks the ocean and rest of the media. We were instantly comfortable in our gigantic room and after a short walk around the beach and a horrendous dinner at a tourist trap cafe, took a nap that turned into an early night sleep.
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3 nights in Choen

February 12th 2008 03:29
Its Friday now, we’ve spent 3 nights here in Chef and I don’t ever want to leave. We slept in again today, until noon and spent a few hours on the roof terrace basking in the sun. around 3:30 Mikey and I decided to head off on our own into town. We had hardly made it to the end of the rocky trail when a man who spoke a tiny bit of English told us to follow him, he wanted to show us his shop. I wanted to say no, we had plans, but he took us by surprise and we were swept into the windy roads and into his shop before we could say anything. He introduced us to another guy who spoke better English and he instantly began selling us rugs. FUCK THESE STUPID MOROCCAN RUGS! It’s the most obnoxious sales pitch ever and we already sat through it on Wednesday at fucking Abdul’s shop. So we listened patiently as this smartass told us that rugs are the best gift, they are a gift that lasts forever so your family will never forget you. If you buy your mother a rug she will always remember you. I wanted to say, “Are you fucking serious? My mom put up with me while I was 15, terrorizing the shit out of her. Not to mention she gave birth to me, I don’t think she could forget either of those two experience if she tried, she’s not going to forget about my presence on this earth if she has one of your original bullshit rugs or not,” but instead I politely listened to him tell me everything Abdul told me 2 days ago. That the women who make the rugs only spend 1-3 hours a day working and it takes them about 5-6 months to make a whole rug on their crazy rug spinning machine. You can burn the rug with a lighter, a cigarette, it won’t light on fire, it wont even leave a mark. The rugs are the most durable of any rug ever, made with all natural materials; cactus and wool. Okay, okay, okay, I still didn’t want one, mainly because I thought these people were so damn obnoxious, but Mikey thought they would make good Christmas gifts and decided to buy 2 of them. So this guy wants 2,200 Dh for 2 rugs. We said 500 maximum. He seemed offended, but they are even more offended if you don’t bargain at all so we kept going. We said 800 dh is the most we would spend and the guy said, no no no, give me another price, higher. I said fine 820 dh (that’s about 1 GBP more than 800 dh) and he said no and we said fine, that’s it, were leaving. So he sold it at 820. We had to walk to the ATM with the original asshole who sucked us into the whole deal and we paid him the cash. Thank Allah that was over and done with, it’s the most annoying experience ever. I felt like a bit of a sucker only because I really didn’t intend on buying rugs and I thought we could find more portable less expensive gifts while we’re here. When we first sat down I said no, we don’t want to buy a rug, and he said okay not to buy, just to look, and that’s how it all starts, by looking and he says do you like this one? Yes or no? If you say no he has another he wants to show you. I guess I just wish he didn’t get the best of us and sell one because these rug guys, they are terrible people I’ve decided. Of course not everyone who sells rugs in morocco are leaches, but many of them are quite abrasive. Leaches.

For the rest of the day we just wondered around town, Christmas shopping and grabbing snacks along the way, the bread here is delicious and we’ve been eating way too much of it. We had dinner on a roof terrace at a nice restaurant and took photos of the sunset over the mountains. Two cats watched us closely as we ate, and since we know the stray cats might have rabies, it was a bit unnerving to have them in their pouncing position right beside out table. Mikey kept getting up to stab them with his fork, but I would just move the chairs loudly so they’d run off, but they were always back with in a few seconds. They were pretty cute and if I wants skeptical of their health I’m sure I would have shared my meal, but it was impossible to tell so we just assumed they were rabid and shoo-ed them away. Mikey had 2 entrees and I had veggie soup. Every meal comes with bread and fresh olives so what would have been an expensive dinner in London, ended up being 55 dh, about 4 gbp. Pretty cheap.

Anyways, now we are back in the house and it’s time to go socialize with the family. Mikey has been making them listen to guided by voices for the past hour so I should go save them from his musical rants.
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Chefcouen

February 12th 2008 03:25
Our 2nd day in Chaouen we didn’t wake up as early as planned. We finally crept up to the roof terrace for breakfast around noon. Suzanne and Danielle made cheese omelets and Scottish porridge. We dipped bread in strawberry jam, ate fresh olives and drank OJ until we could explode.

roof terrace


It was sports day for the kids in town and a few of us walked down to the race track to watch some of the local student run and cheer for their classmates. The view is mesmerizing from every angle of the mountain and we spent a lot of time just staring down at the village and up at the clouds.

chouen


Liam, the younger son, made it his responsibility to show Mikey and I around the town and took us for a walk to the Medina. We stopped to look into a rug shop without realizing that we would have to spend an hour listening to the shop owner explain to us how strong and well crafted his rugs are. He poured the 3 of us mint tea and mainly spoke to Mikey about all the people from around the world who buy his rugs and give them as gifts or later sell them for more money. Mikey really didn’t want to barter with him and by the end of it was pretty annoyed. He refused to pay for or buy anything and the shop owner, Abdul (who the Scots call Mel Gibson), seemed insulted, but we couldn’t afford anything he had to sell. We finally got out of there and Liam apologized to us for not warning us of Mel Gibson’s intent sooner and explained that he brings a lot of guests to that shop to buy things so he though Mel might have been mistaken.



We needed a beer after that experience and we stopped in a small pub for a drink. We roamed the town for a few more hours, bought some vegetables and gifts for family and friends at one of Liam’s friend’s shops. Mohamad, the shop owner, gave us a few free souvenirs too. We paid 15dh for a cab back to the house (less than 1 pound) and made our way back onto the roof terrace.

Mikey found the music room and was happy to mess around with the acoustic for a while and Liam joined him and played drums. We made our own dinner and the Czech guys finally woke up (its about 9pm at this point) and we all hung out in the living room again. Eventually everyone was too high move so we had to call it an early night and now its 2pm on day three and we haven’t left the roof terrace yet! We are going on a hike up the mountains now, should be interesting considering its not quite my thing, hikes. My dad would be very proud.

(check out my photos from the hike on my flicker link)
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Morocco!

February 12th 2008 03:15
After almost 24 hours of traveling, we are finally in Chefchaouen, a small mountainous village in northern morocco. Our flight left from London at 7:30 on the morning of the 27th and flew to Frankfurt, Germany. After a 6-hour layover we got back on the plane and flew in to morocco, a city called Fes Sais. Once we landed, our taxi driver, Rachid met Mikey and I outside of customs. He didn’t speak any English, so he silently led us to his 1970s Mercedes Benz where we began our unexpectedly long and slightly hellish 4 hour drive here. Rachid also gave our travel pal, Joshua (a guy from Texas who’s working in the peace corps just outside Fes) a free ride to a town a few miles out of the way of our hotel. It was really nice of him and nice for us since Joshua spoke Arabic and could explain to us everything we were driving by; the Medinas, the new developments, and who the guy was on all the bill boards (the king, Mohammad VI). Joshua told us that his job is to come up with new designs for the guys who carve wood in the small village, but many of them don’t want to learn new ideas since they’ve been making the same crafts for so many years. He was full of helpful information and taught us to say please and thank you in Arabic.

Once we dropped Joshua off, Rachid drove about 100 mph the entire way to our B&B, Rif-For-Anyone. He would pass anyone driving under 70 and since we are staying at the top of the Rif mountains it was the windiest and rockiest drive making it hard to see if a car or 18 wheeler was coming straight for us. I wasn’t to worried since he does all of the driving for our hotel owners and I trusted that he knew what he was doing, but Mikey was squeezing my hand so hard the entire time it’s a miracle its still attached to my wrist. He kept muttering “holy shit” under his breath and “Syd I don’t want to die in some crazy taxi in morocco! This is insane, were going to die!” His panic didn’t stop until we arrived, and he started freaking out even more when we hit a wild dog about 30 min away from Rif. A pack of 4 started crossing the narrow road right in front of us going about 80 around a hair-pin-turn (the only kind of turn on the trail). Two dogs ran across and 2 stopped when they saw our car, but we couldn’t slow down, it was too sudden, and one dog thought he could reach his other 2 friends before we got to him, but he tested fate and fate slaughtered him. I screamed and began crying instantly. My brain thought every guilty thought and I was so upset wishing that animals didn’t have to die at a humans expense, just so I could go on holiday. Rachid got out to check the car and have a smoke while mikey pissed himself with fear and I continued crying for the dog. A few minutes later we were back on the road, all of us in a more somber mood, all for different reasons because of the same incident


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