Morocco!

I was really excited to go to Morocco for several reasons. 1) Africa would be a new continent for me 2) I've been wanting to go there for 25 years 3) I was growing quite wearisome of the sameness of Western Europe and was anxious to experience something completely different. Although I was sure I'd like Morocco I had no idea how much I would fall in love with it! An ancient land where old ways are still practiced: Prices are haggled, rugs are hand woven, goods are carried on mules among the high walls of the old medinas and happy children laugh and play in the streets.

A country where cumin is set on the table alongside the salt, couscous and tagine dominate every menu, alcohol is disapproved of but hashish is bought, sold and smoked freely, and old men look as if they were born that way--not a trace of youth to be found in their weathered, toothless faces. I had enlightening conversations with young Muslim men, climbed the highest mountain in North Africa, saw camels on the beach and listened to the calls to prayer five times a day. I smoked hash in Tangier, ate camel in Fez, bought spices in Marrakech and saw my first green flash when the sun set over the Atlantic Ocean in Essaouira. I didn´t know it would be a country filled with beautiful mountains, rivers, waterfalls and incredibly blue sky. I found it to be a very photogenic country although many people don't want their photos taken.

Tangiers, my first night in the country, was so positive and it set the tone for the rest of the trip. I was lost, trying to find my hostel in the dark. I approached a couple policemen and asked for directions. They had no idea where this place was so they asked a street vendor. He didn't know. The police asked taxi drivers, the vendor asked passerby's until there was a crowd of about seven people trying to help. Eventually someone in a car pulled out their smart phone and figured it out. One guy in the crowd offered to take me there but I refused and the policeman, sensing my anxiety, said no worries they would take me there. So they walked at least ten minutes with me, stopping occasionally to ask another vendor or passerby for directions and escorted me to the hostel door, waiting until I got inside. So nice of them! In fact, the biggest surprises to me about this trip were how incredibly nice I found the Moroccan people to be and how very safe I felt in this country. Much safer than anywhere in South America. Sometimes the people can be annoying when trying to sell you something, and the old women seem to live on a diet of sour lemons, but overall they are kind folk with friendly, funny children.

My first day in Tangier eight of us filled two taxis and enjoyed a beautiful, sunny day. We passed the Kings palace, saw camels on the side of the road, stopped for a beautiful vista overlooking the blue ocean and explored the Caves of Hercules that have been occupied for thousands of years. Afterward I joined the British guys in my car as they wanted to go to a hamam. I was in need of a good scrub down but not prepared for how gross it is. As they scrub every inch of your body your skin is sloughed off in black clumps. The whole process lasts about seven minutes-and you can't be shy-but in the end you feel fantastic. My skin was so soft and my face looked younger. Of course that was short lived. Hahaha.

The next day I went with an Australian man from the hostel on a three-hour, shag carpet, magic bus ride to Chefchaouen. The whole thing was an adventure! You can't come to this country with any Western expectations or attitude. Just go with the flow and know it's all part of the experience. These people live it every day. It is their reality. You are a guest in their country and it is best to remember that so the experience can be enjoyed.

Chefchaouen-the Blue City! WOW!!! So beautiful! It's one of those places that, although it is in the guide books, you don't want to tell anyone about it because you don't want it to be ruined by so many tourists. Yet it is so incredible you can't contain your excitement--you must share! Every few steps in the medina seem to present a photo opportunity. Even though it is a very small town, and it rained for four days, I stayed on six days, not wanting to leave. When the rain cleared I joined a few others to go hiking in the Rif mountains. We walked to God's Bridge and wanted to also go to the large waterfall, which is supposed to be really nice, but only had time to make it to the small one, which was underwhelming and rather disenchanting as the path is flat and a bit commercial. If I could have stayed another day I would have gone back but alas, it was time to move on. Fes, Marrakech and Essaouira beckoned.

Fes has the oldest medina in Morocco and I wasn't too interested in going but at this point I was sort of traveling with an Australian and an American that I'd met in Tangiers and it was on the way to Marrakech so I agreed to go for a day. It turned into three and if I'd known what I know now I would have skipped Marrakech completely. The Fes market is exactly what I'd imagined Marrakech to be like. All the markets sell the same stuff...rugs, jewelry, food, shoes, scarves and traditional Moroccan clothes, lamps and other houseware items among other things. But Fes had a nice feel with its narrow but not too crowded streets, not overly pushy vendors and good food. It helps that we stayed in an incredibly beautiful Riad too. We enjoyed some gardens, strolled through the streets, got my shoe fixed for thirty cents (a strap on one of my croc sandals had ripped away), I got a henna tattoo and we checked out a leather factory. They make leather in Morocco and you can go to the top of one of the shops and look out into the enormous vats of coloring where the skins are dipped and stepped on and soaked by people literally standing in them. It's fascinating yet incredibly stinky because they use pigeon droppings to soften the hides before putting them into the dye. And apparently it wasn't even bad when we were there because it is winter. I couldn't imagine that place in 40 degree (Celsius) temps! My heart goes out to those poor guys that work in those dye vats.

It was in Fes that I parted ways with the American and Australian and traveled on to Marrakech alone. Marrakech, the city of spice and snake charmers. The one city I was most looking forward to in this country was, unfortunately, the biggest disappointment. It's sheer size is overwhelming. It's incredibly massive with people everywhere aggressively trying to get a piece of the pie. Performing monkeys are kept on a chain, yanked about by their masters. Children doing the dirty work of their parents, trying to sell you cookies or tissues. Women go from table to table in restaurants with thier child in tow, shoving a begging hand in your face. Thirty vendors each selling the exact same thing-whether it's orange juice or clothes or jewlery, amounting to literally thousands of vendors. And when you turn around after stopping to buy a snack or juice there will be someone with their hand out feeling entitled to money as well. And they are so bold about it. If performers see you take their photo they will chase you down and want money for it. And the side streets are wide so you are always being nearly run over by cyclists or mopeds. Honestly I couldn't get out of there fast enough so I was very happy when we took a day trip to Ourika to hike in the mountains among waterfalls and drink tea in a mountainside tea house.

The following day we went to Imlil to hike Toubkal, the highest mountain in North Africa at 4,167 meters. It was a two day trek, the first day staying overnight in a refuge at 3,200m. Less than one thousand meters to hike the following day it was a lot more difficult than I hoped but not completely unexpected considering my past experience with altitude. Although it didn't affect me nearly as badly as it had in Peru, I still struggled. I was sweating in the cold, we used crampons to climb up the snow covered mountain top and I made it to the 4000m pass with stunning views of the valley below but refused to climb the remaining 30 minutes to the summit. I was tired of feeling like crap and made the sometimes-treacherous descent to the refuge on my own while the American and our guide continued on. Together the three of us spent another four hours walking down the mountain, making for a 10.5 hour day of hiking.

From snow covered mountains to the beach in a day. Essaouira is a fantastic port town with an international flair and a beach that has spongy, mud-like, very fine, soft sand. When you walk on the wet, brown sand there is so much air beneath it that you see the surrounding sand rise, and become lighter in color as your feet sink, creating very deep foot prints. It's both fascinating and strange; I've never seen anything like it before. The best thing about the town, however, is that there is nothing to do. No must-see sights. It is a place to just be. After a nice breakfast I enjoyed the hours spent at the port watching the boats come in, the fishermen unload their catch, the hustle and bustle of the dock workers as they iced the fish, put them on trucks and repaired the nets. There was a nice wall to escape to where everything could be observed from above when being among the chaos overloaded the senses. Going to the medina wall and watching the waves crash against the rocks for hours was another of my favorite pastimes. Or watching the sunset. Food options here are the best in Morocco for me as there are vegetarian restaurants, seafood and non-Moroccan cuisine. But my favorite thing to eat was the falafel sanwiches for two dollars. So tasty! The vendors here were a little different too. I didn't see any rug or lamp stores but there were a lot of art stores and some very good art too. There were also more crafts made out of beautiful cedar root, lemon wood and more. Still, too many people selling the same things, but at least it was better quality stuff.

Essaouira made the short list of places I'd consider moving to and I didn't want to leave. But time was running short. I was laid up with a fever my last two days there, extending my stay by a day, and I had to go. A little bit of Spain left to explore before going to Italy. Carnival with my Camino friend awaits!