The Suburbs

I woke up a little late today and had to frantically pack for my departure to Spain. I decided to grab the complementary breakfast I had skipped the day earlier since I would be traveling all day.  

I also grabbed a cup of mint tea. This is the official drink of Morocco and is basically green tea with mint leaves in it. Most Moroccans douse it with sugar like southerners do to iced tea in the states. I try to have them hold the sugar when I can and its pretty good. Not as good as the apple tea in Turkey but you cant win them all. Most of the time the tea comes from a mix or a bad but my hostel made it legitimately.

My breakfast indulgence cost me a bit more time then I had expected so I was now further behind my schedule. I hastily made my way to the harbor so that I could catch my boat.

Customs only took a few minutes and the place was nearly deserted so I was able to get a nice window seat. This didn’t help much as the windows were so beat up you couldn't really see outside very clearly. My ticket said I needed to be there 45 minutes early so that I could make it though everything in time. This proved to be a vast overstatement especially when you factor in that we left 30 minutes late. I sat on the boat for an hour while it lay in the harbor blaring top 40 hits over the sound system.  

I am always amazed when I travel how universal American pop music is. Their top 40 was littered with American artists. Everything is also uncensored and its always amusing seeing young children dance along to these graphic songs with no idea what the lyrics are saying. Once we got going the boat ride only took around 30 minutes.

Immigration was equally as easy on the Spanish side so I was off to try and find the bus station. The city I landed in is called Tarifa and its just a nice little beach town on the southern cost of Spain.

I was instantly aware of how poor Morocco is compared to western Europe. Its strange to have two places separated by a single mile that are so different both culturally and economically. There was an immediate change in tone as soon as I stepped of the ferry.

The map I had prepared to aid me in finding the bus station turned out to be horribly inaccurate (thanks Google maps) but I was able to ask a few people on the street for directions and they happily obliged. It was nice to ask for help without someone expecting payment in return. Once I had my bearings I set out to grab some lunch before I departed. I found a small cafe on one of the main drags that was serving lunch. They also had an English menu. This would have been nice if the English translation was accurate.

I ordered two items off of the 'Warm Meal' menu; a bowl of gazpacho and the chefs specialty. The waiter looked a little confused when I confirmed I wanted both items but obliged. In the context of this menu, 'warm meal' actually means soup. Mind you that gazpacho is served cold. So I had ordered two bowls of different soup and they came in separate courses starting with the gazpacho.

I wish it tasted as good as the photo looks. I really was not a fan. The cured meats were the only saving grace. I'm not sure how it did it but it filled me up like no ones business and I couldn't even finish the bowl. Even though I was already stuffed I was excited for my next course, not knowing a second soup was on the way.

This soup was actually pretty good. It did contain the biggest beans I have ever seen in my life but I was able to work with it. I am not the biggest fan of beans but they are slowly growing on me. Because of my bulging stomach I mainly concentrated on the meat portions and ate what I could but I barley made a dent. I paid the waiter and then my food baby and I headed back to the bus station. The bus arrived right on time and I was off.

The trip only took an hour and a half. I didn't even get to finish the Spanish dubbed Megamind that was our in cabin movie. There were so many twists in this complex story I can never be sure how it ended. The scenery was pretty interesting and we drove past multiple clean energy farms including wind and solar.

When we arrived in Cadiz it was still daylight. The city looks pretty much like what you would expect from an old Spanish port town. I walked around a bit and had to stop taking pictures because everything looks so similar at times.

This is by no mean a bad thing, there is just so many cool looking buildings. Also there was this:

This man will steal your soul if you look at him directly in the eyes. I am not sure if I made it or not, it was so hard not to look..

It took me a while to find the hostel as my map once again sucked (killing me Google) but I finally pieced everything together and figured it out. I could not secure a private room so I had to settle for a 4 bed dorm this time.  

At least there is a nice view from the roof.

I rested a bit before heading out to dinner. I wanted to make sure I didn't leave too early as people down here like to eat later. It started to rain and the streets were not nearly as crowded as they were when I had arrived.

I hit the more populous areas in search of a restaurant but they all turned me down. It was 7 pm and either their kitchens were closed or they were about to end dinner service. I even went to one place where the server said they only had an hour left in dinner service and that was not enough time to serve me. I begged to differ but he turned me away. I was flabbergasted. I guess things work differently here than in Morocco. I would have assumed they would be similar because of their close proximity but its just another one of those differences between the close neighbors.

I ended up finding this quaint little hamburger stand on the side of the road and they happened to be open until 11:30. Not only that, they were celebrating the holy Spanish holiday of Cheesmas!

Having never tried a traditional Cheemas meal I decided to indulge on the Cheemas classic whopper jr. con queso de cabra a la finas hierbas. It was a classy meal for a classy man. The friend cheese patty tied everything together and really put me in the Cheesmas spirit.

For now I am off to go celebrate other Cheemas traditions like threading cheese curds on a string and placing them over the Cheesmas tree then snuggling up next to the fireplace with a nice hot cup of queso. 

Oh also, they still have Twinkies here and they are 4 for a Euro, suck it America.  

Segue

Day two in Tanger started with a trip to the American Legation. If you are unaware, Morocco was the first country to publicly recognized the United States. The property below was a gift to the US and was the first American public property outside of the United States. It is located in a very quiet corner of the medina and finding it was not the easiest of tasks. The directions in my travel book lead me to a small gate on the outside of the medina wall. I walked up the stairs to a small narrow street. Halfway down the street was a small sign outside a set of large bronze doors. I knocked and this tiny door within the larger door opened and a man looked at me then let me in. Inside there were two large three story buildings that were connected by a bridge.

It is usually hard for me to feel patriotic about the United States when traveling abroad but I'll have to say I was feeling pretty damn proud of the ol stars and stripes while I was in the legation. They had copies of the letter George Washington sent to Morocco and the response Sultan Mohammed III wrote which initiated the Moroccan–American Treaty of Friendship which still stands to this day.

Translated it reads:

“In the name of the clement and merciful God; There is no force or power but God. The servant of God, Mohammed Ben Abdullah, may God aid him. To the great President of the United States of America. Greetings to him who follows the righteous path. We acknowledge the reception of the letter which you have sent us defining the condition of peace. We are in agreement with you for reconciliation and complete peace. We have written, as you requested, to Tunis and Tripoli and, if God wishes it, all your wishes shall be accomplished.”

Or so the translation in the museum claims. I have not quite mastered Arabic yet. Once the soundtrack of Team America had stopped looping in my head I decided I have had enough of the medina and wanted to explore the new part of town (new being a relative term). It was of course more open and more European than the old town. A lot of similar stores and items existed but they were nicer and the streets lacked the claustrophobic feel of the medina.

One major difference was the onslaught of cars present on every street. You really have to watch where you are going otherwise you will be hit. You also have to be very aggressive or you will not get anywhere. To cross the street you basically have to step in front of cars and force them to stop. Otherwise they will keep on going and you will be stuck standing for a very long time. Once I got the hang of things it turned out to be quite efficient. There are no real traffic laws here so people pretty much do what they want.  

Ohh Haitian pizza! As I was walking around I saw this group of tools.

I really wonder how much the locals hate them. Some of you may know that my standing policy when confronted by a Segway tour is to point and laugh. Because I was not confident in my surroundings this did not happen. If I see them again I do not believe that group will be safe from ridicule. If you look closely in the next Photo you can see a sign pointing to where you can rent a Segway.  

By now my stomach was telling me it was time for lunch. The problem was that no one else felt the same way. Lunch in Tanger (and im guessing the rest of Morocco) starts much later than I am accustomed to. My wondering the streets for something to eat at noon did not really work for the local restaurants. All of their doors were open but they will wave me away when I tried to enter. I finally found a place in the medina that was empty but was willing to serve me. My meal consisted of a main dish of chicken, chick peas, onions, and potatoes in some sort of curryish sauce and came with pita bread and what they called a salad. 

I really am not sure what all was in this 'salad'. I think the red things were beets but they were really sweet. The orange and white stuff looked like fruit in mayo but tasted more like mashed potatoes. And the rice was dressed with some sort of citrus sauce. The main course filled me up enough that I didn't need to mess with the salad much.  

With a full stomach I headed for my last tourist attraction, the town kasbah. It was on the other side of the medina so I had to once again navigate through a series of small winding streets to get there.

The kasbah itself was not my favorite sight of the day but there was a nice view from the top and they had these cool cannons that still remained. There was also a small museum that was fairly interesting but nothing spectacular. I would say it was worth the 10 dh I paid to get in.  

After all of this walking my feet were killing me and I wanted to give them a break so I decided to head to the beach to relax a bit. In Tanger gringos are allowed on the beach. So are camels. I'm not sure if that's an insult or not..

The cold water and sand really rejuvenated my lower extremities. The water temperature reminded me of the Oregon coast so it was not the most swimmable of waters. Does wonders for the feet though.  

I had read that Tanger was a bit overwhelming for tourists and when I first got here I couldn't understood why people felt this way but after some time here I get it. People are constantly approaching you to either be your guide or sell you something. If you refuse politely they make you feel like the asshole. It is not as bad in the new parts of the city but in the medina it is relentless. I thought I could stay somewhat inconspicuous if I stayed low key and kept to myself but despite my best efforts I am pretty sure I look like this to everyone:

And if you are wondering, the dude from yesterday ended up finding me and wanted to 'hang out' all day. I told him politely I didn't need a tour guide and he let me be. I have had my fill of Tanger and I am ready to head out to Spain. But first I have to hit the local gym before it closes. Pump it

Rabat to Tanger

My first night in morocco was pretty darn decent. I tried to stay up late but lost the fight at around 7 pm. 14 hours later I was recharged and ready to start my day. I was to leave for Tanger at 1 pm so I did not have a lot of time to take in Rabat. I left the ville nouvelle and headed for the old part of town. My first stop was the Hassan mosque.

This is an incomplete mosque on the edge of town and would have been the second largest in the world at the time if it had been completed. Because it was never finished non-muslims are welcome inside. The pillar and surrounding garden appeared to be closed to all on this day so I had to settle for just an outside view. It was still pretty cool. My next stop was the Mohammed V mausoleum. Luckily enough it was right next to the mosque.

Inside is the body of, you guessed it, the former king of Morocco Mohammed V. His coffin is placed in the center of the room with a cleric reciting passages from what I am guessing is the Qur’an. On each corner there is also an armed guard.

After exploring this area a bit I caught a cab and headed towards the medina and the kasbah des oudaias which was in the northern part of the city.  

If you look closely you can see three kids hitching a ride on the bus.

I didn't spend a whole lot of time in the medina and pretty much went right to the kasbah. As I walked through the gate I was approached by a number of different 'guides' but as usual I brushed them off and kept walking.

I really had no idea where I was going and after walking for a while a older man pointed to a corridor and said the main entrance was blocked off and this was the only way to get to the main part of the kasbah. Like a fool I followed his advice and realized pretty instantly I had been duped into walking down a maze of streets. I usually make one really dumb decision at the start of my travels before I get settled in and for Morocco this was it.   

Fearing horrible rape followed by robbery I tried to back track but the old man approached me and offered to take me through the kasbah. I tried to turn him down but realized with what little time I had to see things it may be better to have someone show me around. He spoke decent English and claimed to lived in the area. He ended up showing me a lot of interesting things and knew a lot of the history about the area. Just follow the kasbah zebra.

  

There were 3 stages of the tour; the top, the middle, and the bottom. From the top there was a good view of the city and the coast. The beach is for Moroccans only so going down there was not an option.  

After the tour my 'friend' requested 120 dh of me, which I found ridiculous. I told him this and he tried to make me feel like I was getting a deal for being tricked into taking a tour. I handed him 30 dh and left him with a somewhat dissatisfied look on his face although I am sure I still gave him more than his minimum. I was not raped.

With my time running out I decided to grab a quick lunch before my train ride. I am still excited about how cheap food is. I got my whole meal for around 3.50 us. It was one of the best sandwiches I have had with a while. Loaded with Lamb, onions, pickles, tomato, and some sort of yogurt sauce. Simple stuff executed very well.  

I am glad I got a good meal in because the train ride turned out to be 4 ½ hours long. The train was also packed. Each compartment consisted of 4 seats on each side facing each other with little room in between  I was lucky enough to grab a seat and road knee to knee a number of locals also making the long trip. The trains were just as confusing as last time but I had the advantage of not having to transfer. My ride up the north west coast consisted of a number of different terrains.

The journey was long and I still couldn't see all of the station signs from my seat. What I did see was the ticket of the person sitting next to me and they were stopping at the same station so I just waited for them to get off. I had been trying to figure it out by arrival time but since our train turned out to be 30 minutes late from that estimate that turned out to be no help. I thought I would be able to figure this system out with a full nights sleep but the system is just as vague to me as it was yesterday. Really if I knew one of the native languages I would probably be fine. Luckily its all buses and grand taxis from here on until Tim meets me with the car. I caught a cab and headed for my next hostel.

I am staying in the medina this time and the driver dropped me off at the gate. Many of the streets in the madinas are very narrow so most cabs will not drive into them. He told me my place was just up the street and to the right. I headed that way and realized he had no idea what he was talking about. My theory is when I showed him the address he saw it was in the medina, just took me to the nearest medina gate, and then gave me bogus directions with cash in hand.

I was immediately approached by a number of guides once again and brushed most of them off. A young boy tried to sell me gum and when I refused he screamed at me down the block. I think he needs to rethink his business model. One of the non screaming children was quite persistent and followed me as I searched for my hostel. I lost him a few times but he kept finding me. He claimed he did not want money from me and just wanted to practice his English. After my adventure earlier I knew this was a load of crap but finally gave in when I could not find the place.

He knew right where the hostel resided, took me to the front door, and then asked for money. I didn't bother asking about his earlier statements and told him I didn't have any cash on hand. He left saying he would connect with me tomorrow. Great. Dreading the awkward potential reunion I might have with my new 'friend' I checked in. The hotel this time is a huge upgrade from last night. The whole place is kind of crazy.

The staff is great and even drew me up a map of the area so I wouldn't get lost again. I took the map and headed out to find some dinner. The staff recommended a small place down the street called Ray Charlies. It consisted of a small 6 seat bar and offered rotisserie chicken options. It was not as good as the sandwich I had eaten earlier in the day but was very filling and really hit the spot. I also got my first taste of Fanta lemon which will be consumed again.

I returned home after my short meal and took a long needed shower. This is when I realized a hilariously embarrassing feature of this hostel. One of the amenities they provide is bath robes. Now I am not one who typically uses a bath robe when bathing but I thought I would give it a try since I am on vacation. Now the shower on my floor is a shared shower across the way. What ties this all together is the clear glass floor that separates said shower from my room.  

Needless to say everyone in the lobby got a nice sack attack to start off their evening. And with that I will leave you to your evening. Go Broncos.

Train 1, Jake 0

My travels to Morocco proved to be much smoother than I had anticipated. I slept through most of my flights and woke up just in time for each meal. For some reason all of the stewardesses assumed I was vegetarian and provided me with that meal option (you know how much I enjoyed that). Immigration was also a breeze and I was through in 10 minutes. At this point I should have known that things were going too well. 

I headed for the train station and bought a ticket to Rabat as I am saving Casablanca for the end of my journey. I got a window seat and everything was going great. Then we started passing stations and I discovered what is awesome about Moroccan trains.

1: The trains are so loud that you cannot hear the station announcements

2: A number of stations have trains sitting right in front of the station sign so you cant see where you are

3: None of the trains are marked with their destination 

4: None of them are on time

5: I don't know French or Arabic. (Okay, really this is my fault but I am going to blame the trains on this one)

Items 1 and 2 caused me to reach the end of the line which is in the middle of nowhere. Once I gathered myself and back tracked a bit I found the correct station to make my connection. Then items 3-5 kicked in and covered me in a bad stage of befuddlement. As trains pulled into the station, I had no idea where they were going, and really neither did a lot of the other passengers. I found many others running up to the train and asking the current passengers for information on where it was going. I like to think I am pretty good with this kind of thing but I failed hard today.

After longer than id care to admit I finally found a guy who spoke pretty good English. It turns out he had lived in Boston and was working in a restaurant where he picked up pretty decent English. My guardian seu chef informed me that I needed to go to another station despite what my ticket said. After setting me straight and getting me to the correct platform he shook my hand and said 'Welcome to Morocco'.

I fumbled my way to Rabat and was surprised with how nice everything was compared to the sights I had been seeing from the train window. There are a lot of shanty towns lining the rails. Its a pretty nice city all things considered and had a very modern feel. It was also full of authentic Moroccan restaurants.

Still needing a hotel I set out to find my lodging for the night. This did not take long as many hotels line the main street by the train station. I walked into the first one I saw and they happened to have a vacancy! Not only that, it was only 100 dh a night (roughly a dousen dollars). Ill let the pictures do the talking on this bad boy.

At least I have a nice view. Wifi, a shower, or even toilet paper are another matter. I set my things in my room and went to walk around the city a bit. I was super tired at this point but needed to stay awake to beat the jet lag. The city had a lot of what I expected to see when I was looking into Morocco as a destination.  

After my walk I found a small restaurant and went to town on some tajine de kefta. I hadn’t eaten all day so it was much needed.

All and all I am pretty exhausted and probably going to pass out for 10-12 hours. We will see if I get anything done tomorrow.  

Back To Africa

Well it is that time again. I know my 3 readers have been clamoring for new posts as it has been over a year since my last trip. This time I will be heading off to Morocco with a short detour in southern Spain. It looks to be a good one. My good friend Tim Chappell will be meeting me halfway though my journey. You may remember him from this little ditty. Shortly I will be on my way to Casablanca and you should hear from me again when I make it to the capitol city of Rabat. Cheerio

Peter and Jake's Japan Extravaganza!

Peter and Jake's Japan Extravaganza! from Sharktopus on Vimeo.