Morocco!

Visiting Tangier was not part of our original travel plan but when we understood how near it is to Seville, we thought why not visit Morocco? We rented a car and away we went.

We drove two hours south in a steady rain from Seville to the Spanish seaport, Tarifa, parked the car, and took a ferry across the Strait of Gibraltar direct to Tangier, Morocco.  Security on the large high-speed ferry is strict. We presented passports for inspection and got a Tarifa, Spain stamp before boarding the big ferry and as in any airport security, we walked through the scanner and sent our luggage and handbags through the X-ray. We were required to have passports examined on board the ferry again and received a Tangier stamp. On arrival, our baggage was

scanned once more. Yes, security checks are indeed a bit of a hassle but I don’t mind. They serve a purpose in keeping us safe from weirdos!

Once we stepped foot on dry land, we earned the right to scratch off Morocco, North Africa.   Voila!  Just a few miles of water separate Spain from Morocco but the land, culture, food, language, religion, dress, and more create a world of differences.

The people there were grateful for the downpour and the inch of rain Tangier received this morning but by the time we arrived the clouds were breaking up and a brilliant blue sky was showing itself.

Arabic is spoken here but because tourism is so important to the city most people speak Spanish, French, Portuguese, and enough English to entice you to hire them as a guide for a day, to find their favored restaurant, or to buy something from their shop. We encountered Haziz, a government-licensed tour guide he told us, almost immediately after we stepped off the ferry.  A big boisterous guy, maybe 6” 6,” he cornered us and would not let go.  He is now our driver and guide for 4 hours tomorrow. We resisted his offers at first but his charm and surprisingly crafty persuasion convinced us that hiring him would be a wise use of our time.

Our hotel is the Grand Hotel Villa of France.   We guessed it to be about 60 years old but it is much older.  It’s been operating as a luxury hotel since 1930.  Today it is a finely preserved establishment and represents classic high style. We love it and it’s just steps from the Madina in the Kasbah.

After settling in we headed out to find something to eat and explore. We barely made one block until we encountered Abdulkader, another government-licensed tour guide, who assured us he could beat Haziz’s price. We told him that we made a deal with Haziz and shook on it.  Not giving completely up he escorted us to the best restaurant in the Kazbah for traditional Moroccan food.  That much I will give him.  He did not lead us astray. The food was excellent . . . flavored strongly with exotic spices and served with a flair while musicians entertained us with Moroccan music. They brought us cakes of Moroccan white bread, spicy vegetable soup, a salad tray of chilled roasted eggplant, shredded cabbage, and beet slices. As you can guess, the salad was no hit with Stan but I enjoyed it very much.  Next came a small chicken-cinnamon tart in a crisp but chewy filo crust. The main entre dishes were a bowl of couscous topped with roasted squash, carrot, and chicken, along with heavy turmeric spiced chicken shish kabobs At this point we were stuffed with lots of food remaining. To finish off the meal, we were served sandy almond shortbread cookies that broke into a thousand crisp pieces with each bite and a cup of fragrant steaming mint tea to aid digestion.

Only men operate the shops and only men can be seen visiting with each other in public on the street.  It was a cool day and many men wore heavy long hooded robes. We did not see Moroccan women until later in the day, perhaps picking up their children or doing a bit of shopping.  Also in comparison to all cities we previously visited here, we saw very few dogs but feral cats are numerous. They are on every street corner.  Most are friendly and ever so cute!  People must care for them because they look well-fed and are not shooed away.  We learned later that there is a rescue mission that feeds and neuters the cats.

Nearly every person we encountered greeted us freely welcoming us to Morocco, wanting to know our home, and wishing us a good trip. They were very helpful and kind but not intrusive at all.

The city is surprisingly beautiful with the town rising out of the sea. Buildings are white and palm trees are plentiful.

Inside the Kasbah, we walked a web of narrow, winding pedestrian streets whose layout makes no sense at all.  How the residents keep them straight is a mystery to me; they all look alike and are pretty . . . white two- or three-story buildings trimmed in bright green or blue.  In some sections, we found souks lining both sides of a maze of alleys.  Shop after shop sold pretty souvenirs, leather goods, scarves, hand-stitched pointed-toe slippers, kaftans, and dried herbs and spices. I usually know my spices but in the souks were bags of spices and herbs that I’d never seen before.  The fragrance was exotic and heavenly.  I was tempted to buy saffron but I thought, would it still be good when I once again have a kitchen of my own?

Moroccan terms are a little confusing but I will try to simplify – and I sure hope I’m correct.  A Kasbah is not a bar or a hotel.  It is a walled fortress or citadel within a city . . . like all the walled Old Towns we have seen inside a European modern city.  In Tangier, the Medina area is inside the Kasbah.  People live in Medina’s network of its tiny winding maze of streets and alleys but sections of the Medina are also where Souks or markets are found. 

Muslims are called to pray five times a day. Men and women pray separately.  Our first day there was Moroccan Independence Day. The celebration must call for special prayers. An important mosque is near our hotel. We heard prayers in songs and chants several times during the day and for an extra-long time in the evening. Hearing so many men singing together acapella was enchanting.

The next morning Stan had a traditional American breakfast but added a Moroccan pancake or crepe which is a bread dough folded over and over to form thin layers and cooked on a stone griddle.   It was amazing!  I fell in love with the flavors of exotic spices so I chose Moroccan dishes.   I ate sautéed mushrooms, peppers, and onions with a small dish of stewed spiced chicken, and a dish of something like grits.  The fruit tray included melon, rosy grapefruit, pineapple, kiwi, and more.   I could not resist the bright red pomegranate. I remember loving pomegranates as a kid when we lived a short time in Arizona. However, every pomegranate I’ve tried anywhere else just doesn’t taste great. Here however the pomegranates are softball size and they are the most delicious tiny jewel-like fruits I’ve ever tasted! Later in the day, we passed a stand where a young man squeezed cups of juice from the mounds of fresh oranges and pomegranates on his cart.  I asked him if I could buy a pomegranate.  It took him a while to understand that I did not want juice but only the fruit.  He finally said of course and let me pick out one.  As we were preparing to pay for it he chose another one and put it also in my bag and said, “They’re yours. I want you to enjoy them”. He would not take money. We nearly fainted, and once we recovered, we beamed, he beamed and we thanked him profusely.  He made our day, but I think somehow we made his day a bit better as well.  Again I’m overwhelmed at how very, very caring people are all over the world and how often they are willing to make a friendly connection.

Haziz picked us up at 10 and in his slick manner told us he had a surprise for us. Instead of driving around in a car, we’re going to be in a van with another couple who also speaks English. Well, it bothered me a little bit that there may be a little bait and switch going on but things worked out.  The couple turned out to be very friendly, happily pregnant, and interesting.  Both are now from Seville, the young man is a black Muslim from French Guinea.  He speaks four languages and runs a tour business; his pretty young lady is Spanish, and Christian and practices law.  What an interesting life they will lead!  We spent four hours with the lovely couple and saw parts of the city that we would never have seen on our own alone without a car.  We passed the mosque, and the 59-year-old Moroccan king’s Tangier palaces – one in the hills and one near the water.  He likes a place near the water as he likes to jet ski.  We stopped for photos at a lookout where the Mediterranean meets the Atlantic. Morocco is incredibly scenic; green spaces are abundant and contrast beautifully against the white buildings, the deep blue seas, and the clear blue sky. 

At every stop on our tour, there were opportunities for Kodak moments with local people and local animals like donkeys and camels. And of course, there were plenty of souvenirs just begging to be bought. This by the way is not my ideal way to explore an area.  I get no joy from petting donkeys, riding elephants, touching tigers, or riding camels.  I don’t enjoy any of those things, and I don’t relish riding in a horse-drawn carriage through city streets, donning crazy hats, and dancing to music so that locals can earn tips.  Granted, I respect people’s efforts to make a living, and Lord knows they need the money but I feel uncomfortable contributing to the exploitation of animals, children, and tradition.

We had several of those stops.  Finally, to be a good sport I threw in the towel.  I danced, wore funny hats, and did what the guide suggested for goofy photos — that I will probably delete.

Of course, our tour included Hercules Cave, a small cave on the sea.  There are two openings to the cave, one by sea and the other by land.   The spectacular sea entrance called ”The Map of Africa” is an opening in a great stone through which the waves of the ocean crash.  Some believe the sea opening was created by the Phoenicians in the shape of Africa.  Who knows?  I think our sweet mother nature as in all things made this beautiful sight.  The great stone and sea spectacle are absolutely worth seeing, however, the rest of the venue offered nothing of interest or value.  There were cheap statues of Hercules, fake water features, and to top it off, quite a bit of the cave had been carved out by hand years ago to make grinding stones.  Forget TripAdvisor, Hercules Cave is little more than a poor example of a tourist trap.

Important market days are Thursdays and Sundays.  Country people come to town to market their wares, produce, and handicrafts on tarps on the ground.  It is said to be quite an event.  I truly regret missing a real market day.

There are seven arched gates in the Kasbah city wa, and three separate areas, the American Quarter, the Italian Quarter, and the Jewish Quarter.  All get along peacefully.  I have not been able to confirm the data but we were told that at some point centuries ago, one of the Spanish King Alfonzos (there was a bunch of them) demanded all constituents convert to Christianity or be exiled.  The Jewish people and the Muslims who did not convert were sent to Morocco together.  Because they had a common bond and common homeland, they lived peacefully and respectfully side by side.  They still do today although the Jewish population in Tangier has diminished greatly.

After two nights, an afternoon, and a full day in Tangier, we only regret not having more time in this beautiful intriguing place.