Well, its finally time to write about the crazy adventure that I have had over the last week or so. A little bit of backgroud information first. Sometime last year Ed and I both decided that we would be heading overseas, and over a few beers one night I suggested that we should meet up for Christmas in Morocco. We both got excited about the idea, but I didn’t really think it would happen. Andrea, on the other hand, I met in Nepal, as we spent a few months working at the same orphanage. We became good mates, kept in constant contact when she returned to Switzerland, and her decision to come to Maroc was a bit more impromtu. Anyway, on with the stories.
23rd December
I took an overnight bus from Essaouira to Casablanca to meet Andrea and Ed at the airport. It arrived in Casa at 5am, and I had to wait till nine for the youth hostel to open its doors. It was a long wait in the cold, but eventually I got inside, dropped off my bags, and headed for the airport on the train. Ed arrived first, and it was great to catch up after so long. Also, he was sporting one of the most attractive pieces of facial hair I have ever seen. We waited for Andrea, who arrived late, and without her bags. I had really been looking forward to seeing Andrea and it was well worth the wait. We all jumped on the train and headed for the guesthouse. That evening we walked around Casablancas medina, had a not very moroccan dinner at king burger, where Ed impressed us with his French, asking for ´An apple of chips´. Andrea french was great, and I still believe mine is better than Eds, because even though I know none, that’s surely better than knowing the wrong words.
24th
We caught the train back to the airport, and Andreas bags finally arrived, then jumped on a train to Rabat. From there we caught a bus for Chefchouen, in the Rif mountains. The highlight of the day was easily our lunch. We sat in a resteraunt opposite the Rabat bus station and ordered salad, moroccan chicken, olives and coffee. The staff were pretty excited to have foreigners in their resteraunt, and decided to bring out the pride of the establishement. Our waiter brought a man to our table and told us, in very proud terms, that his friend worked at McDonalds. There were smiles all round, while the waiter left to get out food, and his friend told us all of the different burgers he can cook, such as big mac and mac arabia. He even proudly took his jacket off and showed us his mcdonalds tshirt. It was a typical moroccan moment, a little bit crazy, but very friendly, with the locals very keen to impress the tourists. After a great lunch we got on a bus that really did smell a lot like poo, and took the six hour trip to Chefchouen. We arrived and it was cold and foggy, but we found our guesthouse, and found Nico, Dmitri, Veronici and Hovard, who had come a few days before from Essaouira.
25th
Even though Christmas is just a normal day over here, I still woke pretty early. Getting the others up was a bit harder, and even jumping on Andrea produced limited results. We eventually headed to the roof to take some photos and gaze over the beautiful mountain town in which we were staying. We then headed of to a great resteraunt for a not-so-normal Christmas feast. Its three courses contained a heap of olives, as well as Moroccon staple of tajine and mint tea. We then headed to the main courtyard of town, to a café where they played a mixture of 50 cent and arabic music. Later we returned to the guesthouse for drinks and a low key birthday party for yours truly. Oh, I also called home for the first time on my trip, a call that cost a heap and last about 1 minute. Sorry guys.
26th
Got up late and wandered around town. Just as I was called Jesus and John the Baptist in Goa and Ghana, to the Moroccans I am the spitting image of Ali Barber. It seems that every culture has their own long hair, bearded heros. I am constantly being called ali barber in the streets. One man walked up to me and said, Hey Ali Barber, where are the forty theives? I only understood this because Andrea translated it for me. Andrea went home for a sleep, leaving some mans time for me and Ed. So we did what Moroccan men do, and headed to a café for mint tea and to smoke flavoured tobacco from a gigantic bong creation called a Shisha. It was good fun, and led to some funny photographs. We went out for a great dinner, where we all had seafood. I had trouble sleeping because it was bitterly cold.
27th
Had a huge breakfast, then caught the bus to Fes. I made the mistake of drinking a litre and a half of yoghurt and felt a bit funny on the bus. We arrived on the outside of the Medina wall in Fes, and it was one of the most impressive entrances to a city I have ever seen. Some parts of it were very similar to India, with touts everywhere, all telling us the guesthouse we were looking for was full, but that they could take us to a cheaper place. We pushed on and found our gueshouse, which was not at all full. It was great walking into the city, through the massive gates, into the labirynth of twisting alleys, hit on everyside by sights, smells and sounds. I even saw camel feet, cut off just before the knee, and a camel head, for sale. Our guesthouse was just near a very impressive big blue and green gate. Went out for tea, where I had yet another tagine, this time kefta (lamb) and egg.
28th
This was a huge, but simply awesome day. Ed and I awoke earlyish, and headed to the Haman, the ancient bathhouse. We had to strip into out jocks, and where then led into the main room, an old but beautifully tiled room full of steam, with heated walls and floor, and buckets of hot and cold water. Our massuese, a little 70 year old man in the daggiest jocks I have ever seen, got us to lie on the floor. It was really hot, and we soon began to sweat it out. When I was covered in slimy sweat, the old man returned and performed on me a massage which blurred the lines between massaging, wrestling moves, and torture. This innocent little old man really belted the crap out of me, and it was awesome. For example, one move involved the old guy lying on the floor with the hands behind his neck, and his feet in my back pushing me into the air. I then had raise and lower my legs which made all the muscles in my back burn. To get out of this position I had to do a somersault over the guys head. If you cannot imagine what this would look like, that is probably a good thing. After this, I had scolding hot water poured all over me, then a man used a really rough scrubber to tear all the dead skin off my body. I was then soaped up by a guy with an impressive moustache, who proceded to give me a deep muscle massage, accompanied by him making stupid noises. After this was over Ed and I sat on the floor in the steam room and poured alternating buckets of hot and cold water over ourselves for a long time. We walked out of the Haman feeling absolutely amazing, and this is an everyday occurrence for many Moroccans, and has been for centuries.
We only had one full day to spend in Fes, and Andrea was intching to do some shopping, so we paid Dulah, a student from a local university to be our guide. Whether he actually was a student is anyones guess, but he was a good guide. And Fes is certainly a place where you need a guide. We saw the Khoranic schools where the children still go to learn the Khoran, on every street, and the bakeries where the women send their ready made dough to be baked using traditional methods. We saw awesome gates, beautiful fountains, a maze of streets and shops, with donkeys, kids playing football and riads everywhere. My favourite was easily the tanneries where they tan the leather. The place absolutely stunk, but it was amazing to see the way they still use ancient technigues to create the products. We where handed mint to hold in front of our noses to disguise the smell (they use pidgeon poo in the tanning, and there are a lot of dead animals around). Ed decided that wasn’t enough, and shoved his Mint up his nose. Ed accidently sniffed a big chunk of mint into his sinuses, ans walke daround for the next 30 minutes with a funy look on his face, because dislodging the mint, coughing it into his hand, and proudly showing Andrea and I. It was vintage Ed. Ed and I both bought carpets/blankets, as presents for some people at home, but I cant say who. Andrea bought something in every shop we visited, and that was a lot. It was amawing. Jewellery, lamps, a shisha, clothes, pottery, she got it all. I also bought a Jalaba, a moroccan piece of clothing, sort of like a long overcoat with a hood, which looks pretty cool. Our guide, Dulah, took a keen interest in Andrea, and eventually offered her 3000 camels if she would marry him. The guy in the Jalaba shop thought that she was not worth more than 2500 camels. Ed and I had a Pidgeon Pastilla for dinner, afterwords I checked my email and found out the great news that my older brother James, and his girlfriend Nicole, got engaged over Christmas. With the calls of Ali Barber, Nice Jalaba, I made my way back to the hotel and to sleep.
29th
Caught the early train to Casablanca, where we said goodbye to Ed. Andrea and I spent the afternoon chilling out, and then went out for a few drinks and a nice seafood dinner.
30th
Sad goodbye to Andrea, with more than a little bit a sadness. It was pretty sad because I have no idea how long it will be until I see her again, probably a few years. It was great to have people come to visit me in Morocco, especially after travelling alone for so long.
It was a great christmas, and I am now in Chefchouen again, having new years with the gang from Essaouira.
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