Meknes
Meknes is an hour bus ride east from Fes, and is also one of Morocco's five imperial cities. We planned to stay for a couple of days to check out the city and the nearby Roman ruins, Vouloubilis. We ended up staying much longer because I suffered from intense heat exhaustion, fevers, chills and travelers illness. We finally made it out to Vouloubilis and nearby Moulay Idriss, a white-washed town housing the only cylindrical minaret in all of Morocco.
Meknes felt more mellow than Fes, with fewer people hankering for our cash. We met an interesting fellow named Mohamed over some harira (soup) and sandwiches. He invited us to watch a football (soccer) game in a salon de the (tea shop). The place was full to the brim with game enthusiasts. I was the only woman there, and I'm starting to get used to the feeling. Men in Morocco spend a lot of time together without women, sitting for coffee and tea for hours. They are also very affectionate with each other, oftentimes holding hands in the streets, kissing both cheeks several times upon greeting, and patting each other on the back in jest. Mohamed also happens to be very affectionate towards women, as we soon noticed. He spoke often and lovingly of women. When I asked him about his job, he told me that he doesn't work and that his money comes from God. Later, he confided to Brian that his money comes from women (aka, he's a hustler!).
Cascades d'Ouzoud
It's unclear what time our bus leaves or when it arrives in Beni Mellal, our stop-over before Ouzoud. We sit on the bus while men and boys roam the aisles selling cookies, snacks and sodas. It rains, and for the first time in 5 years, I welcome it. There always tends to be an argument before departure, and this was no exception. As the bus rolls forward, men hop on and off through the back door yelling at a passengers in Arabic for several minutes until finally the argument seems to resolve.
Cascades d'Ouzoud is a magical place with mud-red falls, shops and cafes lining the paved path down to the river and a charming boat to row us to the other side, where we camp for three nights in a traditional Berber tent. We spend our time playing cards, eating good food and exploring the river, either by brave dips in the water or walks along side it. We enjoy the break from all the people in cities and we easily relax into the nature around us.
We leave Cascades d'Ouzoud in a jam-packed Mercedes Benz. We sit in the front seat together, beside the driver with four other passengers crammed in back. We definitely got the best seat for the hour-plus ride into Azilal, our next stop-over.
Agouti and the Atlas Mountains
From Azilal, we planned to take another grand taxi to Agouti, a remote village in the Atlas Mountains. After a breakfast of bread and olive oil, we made our way to the taxi station. We were the first passengers to go to Agouti, which meant that we would either need to wait for four more passengers, or pay for the empty seats. Each seat cost about $5, so we elected to wait in the nearby cafe. Four hours passed and two seats still remained empty, so we swallowed the cost of two extra seats and savored the extra leg and arm room.
Our driver sucked his teeth, spit out the window frequently and played the same tape over and over again. During silent times, he would either sing a Berber song or speak with the other Moroccan passengers. He had a fur cloth covering the dash and I helped him tuck it under the windshield from time to time, although I didn't like touching it. He honked his horn whenever he encountered a person by the street, a curve in the road or oncoming traffic.
In the back seat, Brian sat next to Lahcen, a man who lives in a small village near Agouti. He convinced us to stay with his family and let him guide us around the area. The driver dropped us off at a foot path, and we followed it to Lahcen's home constructed of earth and cement. In addition to his family, it houses chickens, cows, sheep and a mule. Our room was on the top floor with easy access to a covered balcony where we sipped many cups of tea.
On our first afternoon, Lahcen took us along the main road and then up a big ridge so that we could see two valleys below. The lush green farmland of the valley starkly contrasted the brown and red mountains rising above it. Most of the homes were built with earth and blended into the landscape.
On our second day, we ate a breakfast of bread and warm, sweetened milk from their cow. Lahcen took us on a long hike around the valley and eventually to the site of some fossilized dinosaur prints. They weren't as big as we'd imagined, but were said to be 185 million years old! Next we bought supplies for a picnic and hiked to the top of a hill called Sidi Moussa for lunch and tea with the groundskeeper. Local folklore claims that a 2-night stay at the top of this hill will cure infertility (as long as you don't mind Allah being the father). We also visited a woman's cooperative founded and run by teenage pioneers of the local business/food movement. They followed their dream despite the protests of their mothers. Later, we relaxed over cards and couscous, retiring early for a 7am taxi ride back to Azilal.
Essaouria
By the time we had traveled from Agouti to Azilal and through Marrakesh to Essaouria, it was late. A guide charged us 50 dirhams ($6.25) to take us to a cheap hotel. We grudgingly obliged because the coinciding World Music Festival meant full hotels and guesthouses. Our room was conveniently located in the medina- old city- and we easily accessed the beach for walks, camel rides(!!) and sun bathing. There, we met Emma and Yousef who were in from Sweden visiting Yousef's family. We had a blast with them sipping tea, eating pizza and dancing to world music on the beach. We hope to cross paths with them again.
Being so close to the beach, we couldn't resist indulging in fresh-caught fish. We made our way to the fish grills on the dock where we picked out whole red snapper, calamari and shrimp to weigh and take straight to the grill. We waited at a picnic table , munching on fresh salad, olives and bread (Yes, Brian actually likes olives now!!!). The fish was delicious although not cleaned or de-boned. Essaouria has a more modern feel than most of the places we had visited so far, but I can't say we minded. It was nice to see a western toilet again!
Mirleft
We hated to leave Essaouira, but moved our beach time further south to the small village of Mirleft. After two bus rides, we hiked down to the secluded beach cove of Aftas Beach, where we settled into a brightly painted room overlooking the beach. We spent the evening on the balcony, sipping tea and watching the fiery moon dip below the sea. There were only two other guests staying there, Moroccan guys named Kamal and Said. They were there visiting Kamal's brother, who runs the place. They were so generous, always inviting us to meals of fish they had caught in the morning, grilled sardines or couscous that took the local fisherman over 3 hours to prepare (it's quite different than the quick-couscous we know in the States. The process involves several rounds of rolling the couscous by hand with water, steaming and fluffing. The result comes out truly amazing, so fluffy and moist. They eat it with their hands, by rolling it into small balls). In between catching sunrays and playing in the waves, we hung out with them a lot. They gave us Moroccan names- Brahim for Brian and Amina for me. From what I can gather, Amina means sweet and/or trustworthy. They taught us card games and with their friend Hassan, took us to another nearby beach where we met a cave dweller in his dark, cool cave. On the way, we walked along the steep, rocky cliff of the sea, noticing fisherman somehow (and dangerously) perched on the slopes of the cliffs. It's hard to imagine how they got there, let alone how they managed to stay there.
On our last day, we took a day trip to Legzira, where certainly pictures say more than words.
It was easy enough to take a taxi there, but tricky getting back. We sat on the side of the road, waiting for either a vacant taxi or willing driver to accept the plea I made with my outstretched thumb. In the end, it was a taxi driver that picked us up. We ate dinner in town before making our way back to the guesthouse by the light of the moon.
Marrakesh
After saying goodbye to our friends in Mirleft, we awoke insanely early to catch the 7am bus to Marrakesh. This involved hiking out of the cove with our packs in the dark. The ride took 7 hours; luckily we both had seats and could sit next to each other.
Marrakesh is Morocco's hip, posh town striking a nice balance between modern and traditional. We stayed in the medina, close to the popular Djeema al Fna Square. The square comes alive at night with people eating at food stalls and watching the many forms of entertainment: fortune telling, street theater, drum circles, live music, snake "charming" and monkeys on leashes. I adamantly oppose the later two as snake charmers often sew the mouths shut of their snakes, causing infection and/or death (not to mention, oww!). The monkeys clearly did not enjoy their job, they constantly tugged at their leashes and tried to get away. I don't blame them.
We spent a little time in a bookshop in the ville nouville (new city) and had a dinner of delicious pizza. On our walk back to the medina, we passed horse-drawn carriages, gardens smelling of urine and a beautiful minaret.
The next morning I left for a writing workshop in London. Brian stayed in Morocco for a few extra days before heading up to southern France to visit our good friends Christine and Jonathan.
For all the relevant photos, please click here:
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| Morocco |
For our adventures in Fes, click here: Fes
