Day 1 – Marrakesh – July 29
We touched down in Marrakesh around 1:30 am. While the plane was still taxiing people were already grabbing their bags and queueing in the aisles. Flight staff didn’t seem to care. We went through customs without a problem. They stamp and write a series of numbers and letters on your passport, which is a police control number – according to the internet. We are going with a tour company from Marrakesh to Fes starting in a few days so that included airport pickup to our lodging. We are so grateful we aren’t fully winging this trip – it would be intimidating. We found a man outside with an Elizabeth Goss sign. He barely spoke English and we piled into his hot van and were off; it was nice to be on the right side of the road again. He drove like a madman through the narrow streets, barely avoiding mopeds and pedestrians. The town was oddly alive for it being 2 am on a Tuesday morning. We pulled up to the side of the road and were ushered out of the car into the care of a different man who also didn’t speak English. The tour company hasn’t been super communicative, but I thought we were staying in a hostel called Mosaic. Our tour guide wound us through the alleyways and delivered us to a Riad or guestroom. When I asked if this is the correct place, he called his boss and handed me the phone. She informed me she’d be there at 9 am to go over everything. We found our bed, in a nice private room with bathroom and A/C and fell right asleep.
Day 2 – Marrakesh – July 30
We got up and headed down to the main common area around 9 am. A cat was snoozing on the chair outside our door. Still unsure what was going on or if we’d be staying in this place for our remaining nights in Marrakesh. A woman found us and ushered us to a small table unveiling honey, jam, butter, and cheese from under a drop cloth in the middle of the table. We believe we are the Riad’s only guests. She brought us tea, coffee, and OJ, then pancakes, French toast, and bread. The water is supposedly unsafe to drink here, and we are slightly hesitant about food poisoning. We ate, and our guide-woman began the process of trying to sell us everything she could.
We decided to have a certified guide take us on a half-day tour of the city and to get a hammam and massage tomorrow morning, supposedly with a discount. We were also talked into having dinner at the hotel that night, and they would teach us how to cook it. At this point it was around 9:30 and our tour guide was scheduled to come at 11 am. We spent the next hour getting cash from the ATM machine down the road, avoiding bicycles, cars, pedestrians, and motorbikes, and lounging on the rooftop terrace as the day began to warm.
Our guide Hammad was a young man, and very friendly. At times, his English was easy to understand and at other times, Ryan had no idea what was going on. Morocco is the first Muslim country either one of us have been to and we are hyper-sensitive to being culturally correct and learning how to fit in. We’ve found women naturally talk to Elizabeth more and Ryan is expected to talk to the men and handle all things money related. Ryan began walking in front with Hammad and Elizabeth’s little legs struggled to keep up in the quickly rising temperatures. Hammad wanted to show us everything we wanted to see about the city, and unfortunately, we weren’t very knowledgeable about what to ask for so we were guided without knowing where we were going.
Marrakech is beautiful in a very exotic way. Walking the small, winding, brick streets of the Medina can be terrifying at times as you move out of the way of motorbikes and the men yelling at you from the booths to buy their products. It was nice to have Hammad lead us so we could figure out how to maneuver here. You will see a man maneuvering his cart pulled by a donkey around pedestrians and scooters while picking up chairs and other things to make more space in the narrow streets. The streets are lined with shop after shop, essentially selling the same things: purses, shoes, clothes, lamps, meat, bread, jewelry, or convenience store items. Moroccans apparently decided to live colorful lives, so the stalls of all the above goods are stacked with dozens of bright colors mixing together. Walking around seeing all this, and the eight million stray cats, in combination with the smell of gasoline in the narrow streets gives you a unique high.
Our first stop was about a 25-minute walk to Koutoubia. This mosque is the largest in Marrakesh and is 77 meters tall – the tallest building in Marrakesh. This mosque has a varied and complicated history consisting of multiple dynasties and caliphs.
We walked around the outside, trying to piece together the history from Hammad’s accent looking at the ruins of the old mosque and the mosque that stands today. He took us around to the park behind, so we could get a nice picture. We pulled out the GoPro and he asked if Elizabeth is a blogger. We headed back through large gates Bab Agnaou to the town center or Medina, and walked past another mosque called Moulay El Yazid.
Elizabeth asked Hammad about other religions in Morocco out of curiosity, and he told us all the churches were located outside of the medina in the new city, but some synagogues exist in both. Next thing we knew, we were paying a 10 dirham each to visit the Slat Al Azama Synagogue. The synagogue was beautiful with friendly Jews, some from Canada, who showed us around and asked if we were Jewish. Ryan said he had some in his blood and they asked if he took an ancestry test – maybe they’ve been getting a lot of Jew-‘ish’ people lately. We ended with a 5-minute documentary video explaining the Jews being driven out of Spain and other portions of Europe and made their home in Morocco. Here they live in peace with the Muslim majority.
After this short respite, we were back on the road, avoiding donkeys and motorbikes. Hammad bought us some bottled water then brought us to Bahia Pala, which means brilliance. Having a tour guide finally paid off, Hammad was able to take our money, skip the line, and get us into the palace quickly. We saw signs outside of the palace warning that it is illegal to use unofficial government guides. Hammad told us he studied hard and had to pass many oral and historical tests to be a guide. He wore a badge and didn’t have to pay to enter any site. The palace is a beautiful sprawling manor in an almost plain, but still ornate fashion. Morocco, as you can tell, is hard to describe. There is no longer any furniture in the palace, as no one lives there, so you are looking at a maze of 160 empty rooms, various courtyards and 2 acres of gardens with decorated windows and ceilings. Hammad took the time to tell us what they were once used for. We’d see online that Morocco is an Instagramer’s paradise. We saw dozens of women and their photographer boyfriends taking photos in doorways and window frames. Brief history is that it was built in the late 19th century to be the greatest palace ever constructed by Si Moussa Ba Ahmed for the Sultans personal use. He had 4 rooms, for his 4 wives, and an area to quarter his 24 concubines. It was worth the $7 per person.
After the palace, we were feeling snacky and Hammad led us to a restaurant called Bakchich Café. Still slightly afraid to get sick we ordered a chicken and cheese panini with no lettuce or tomatoes and French fries with a gigantic water. The restaurant was open to the street, and we watched the doorman try to hustle tourists in by showing them the menu and shooing stray cats away. After our light lunch, we went to Jemaa el-Fna: the large shopping and eating square. Here there were people with monkeys in diapers on leashes next to snake charmers. Hammad had warned us that taking photos would lead to payment harassment, so we observed from a distance as cobras and copperheads sat among men playing whatever the snake charming instrument is called (it’s called a pungi). There are a ton of shops, as previously described, and we wandered through the Souk des teinturiers, a shopping area, wanting to buy everything we saw, but knowing our bags were already stuffed.
We got back to our hotel around 3 and hid in our dark, air-conditioned room, taking naps and reading until 5:30. The we moved into the main common room. We needed to get bus tickets for our future travel in the week following our tour, so our host and Elizabeth spent a lot of time trying sort it out online. They we unsuccessful, so eventually our host took the money, and a 5-dollar tip, and hired a man to go to the bus station to buy our tickets for us. We sent him off with cash and a piece of paper showing the day, time, and cities we’d like to journey between. After a time, our host received a call from our envoy, the prices and times on the website were not what was available at the train station; but alas we now have tickets.
They then brought us hot tea – it was 95 degrees – and cookies, before we began the dinner making class. The Riad is run by a woman, and it’s not clear if she is the owner or just works here. She is at our constant beck and call, and we find her sometimes just lounging in the main area waiting to see if we need anything. She speaks good, but not great, English. There is also a cook/housekeeper, a black woman who doesn’t speak any English. They then called us back into the small kitchen to begin the lesson.
Apparently, they assumed Elizabeth would do the cooking and Ryan would write the recipe. We told them that Ryan was the cook and they didn’t seem to know what to do with a man in the kitchen. It was hilarious for Elizabeth and frustrating for Ryan as they gave him simple tasks like transferring the spoon of spices into a bowl or chopping a vegetable only to finish the job for him because it wasn’t done exactly right. Whenever Ryan had his back turned, they’d make faces to Elizabeth relating things like “ah, he’s doing okay, can’t believe he’s in here” and “I guess that’ll do.” Together Ryan helped them make zucchini with vinegar and spices and cooked carrots with cinnamon. Next he helped prepare the main meal: chicken tajine. They boiled the chicken with lemon and olives and spices then put it in a ceramic tajine to serve.
We went up to the terrace, still the only guests at the hotel, and had a romantic dinner as the sun began to set. After eating, everything being delicious, we went into the kitchen and made dessert. Bananas simmered in orange juice and honey. Stuffed to the rafters, we lounged on the roof, and arranged for our breakfast to be ready at 8 am the next day – all this for $45 a night. We heard the final call to prayer around 9:30 and called it a night. There is a mosque right next door to our Riad, one of 180 in the city, so we can hear all 5 daily calls to prayer, which is a nice reminder of being in a foreign place.
Day 3 – Marrakesh – July 31
We got up around 7:30 the next morning and showered before breakfast. We had our massages and hammam at 11 that day and didn’t want to be stinky. Breakfast was again tea, bread, coffee, and cheese, but today we got a fried egg and Moroccan crepes. We set off for our 20-minute walk to Jardin Majorelle. This garden is located outside of the Medina in the new city. It was a stressful walk. As soon as you get out of the old city walls the roads widen into normal city streets, and the honking and traffic begins. We passed several intersections with cars honking and everyone pulled into the middle, regardless of a green or red light. The larger streets were still shared with donkeys, large cars, and motorbikes. Our street crossing technique involved following elderly locals and using them as shields. Eventually we made it to the gardens around 9:00; our host had warned us to go early to avoid the heat and crowds. We made it just in time. The gardens were designed by a French artist and housed exotic plants from all over the world, we even found a cactus from Texas. We wandered around, watching everyone go for their Instagram shot while enjoying the fat fish and numerous cacti. Around 10, we began our walk back and repeated the same old-person-human-shield technique.
We made it back to the hotel to be guided to our spa day by a strange man our hostess found for us. We think he might have been the man who bought our train tickets and escorted us into the riad the first night, but we couldn’t be sure. He pushed his motorbike the whole 20-minute walk; assumedly so he could get back quickly. Slightly fearful of being caught guiding Americans without a permit, though we said we could find it on our own, he walked a head of us and glanced back on occasion to make sure we were still following. We arrived at Amouna Spa and began a very unique experience. We knew we’d be getting an exfoliation, hammam, and a massage but we were curious how it’d work in a Muslim country. Could we be naked? Could a woman touch Ryan?
We were given more sugary hot tea upon our arrival and ushered into a small changing room. We were each provided a pair of almost see-through mesh panties (that’s right, no top for Elizabeth) and a thick robe. We were then led into a sauna room to begin the hammam. A woman stripped us down to our mesh panties and instructed us to lay down on stone beds next to each other. At the foot of each bed was a hand held shower head. We had no idea what was going on, and realized we should have looked up what to expect. She turned on the water to a nice temperature, and beginning with Ryan, washed him down and rubbed oil all over his body. Then she did the same to Elizabeth. She left us for about 15 minutes in the hot room laying down and dripping oil and water from our mesh underwear. When she returned, again starting with Ryan, she put on an exfoliating glove (see: sand paper) and rubbed down his whole body, excluding genitals. The whole time Elizabeth got to just lay on the stone bed next to him and watch. Until that is, it was her turn. The lady exfoliated, hard, everything from the soles of the feet to the face – and in that order. Next she hosed us down and we sat watching her decontaminate the beds.
We both thought we were done, but to our surprise, she instructed us to sit on a stool; she then proceeded to wash our hair and bodies again with soap. She poured buckets of warm water on our heads and body and we felt like we were 4-year-olds getting a bath from our mothers. After we were done rinsing, she asked us, in very broken English, if we were married. Finding it silly that they we were just now being asked, we said yes, of course. She then attempted to give us more instructions, Elizabeth had no idea what she was signaling. Eventually she wrapped us into a standing embrace, Elizabeth’s head on Ryan chest, and arms around each other; she then sprayed us down with water again. We still don’t know what that was all about.
Finally, we were led upstairs in our mesh underwear and dripping wet to the massage beds. They dried us off and began a relaxing 40-minute massage. Ryan even fell asleep. Elizabeth’s hair was super greasy from whatever shampoo they used and our bodies were covered in oil. If you’re okay with being naked in front of at least 3 different people and being bathed like you’re a child, we’d highly suggest this singular Moroccan experience.
We emerged hungry from the spa hungry and thirsty. We found a small restaurant right in the main square. After sitting down, Ryan looked up the place we’d been ushered into and it apparently had some negative hygiene reviews, so we opted to just get bottled water and tea. We sat and watched people parade by with merchandise to sell and it felt a little bit like being in Mexico on the beach. We found another restaurant to get lunch called La Cantine des Gazelles, next door to the restaurant we ate at yesterday. We are getting more risking with food and drank the small fruit smoothie they offered with the meal. We shared fries and a chicken with cream of mushroom dish. It was delicious. The day was getting hot again so we wandered through some shops then returned to the hotel to lounge in the A/C before our dinner.
We took dinner on the roof again and got beef tajine with mashed potatoes followed by caramelized apples and figs for dessert. We laid on the roof until dark, reading and playing on our phones then headed to bed when we heard the final call for prayer.
Day 4 – Atlas Mountains – August 1
According to our scarce itinerary from the tour company we would be picked up from our hotel around 7:30 to be transported to the rest of group and begin our adventure into the Sahara. A man arrived at 7:05 so we scarfed down our bread and crepes and followed him out of the medina. Along the way, we picked up another passenger hailing from Poland and joined two French girls on the bus. Thinking we were only 5 riding in the van we were pretty excited for our space available in the 18-passenger van. But, of course, this van was just taking us to another van, where we were the last people on, and stuck in the back of the bus. We booked a 5-day tour that would take us from Marrakesh over the high Atlas Mountains into Boumaine Dades Gorge, roughly a 5-hour drive. Then we’d travel an additional 5 hours to the Sahara. We’d spend one night in a desert camp after riding camels and one night in a hotel in Mezourga before driving 7 hours to Fes. We knew it’d be a lot of driving but it’s not easy to access the Sahara from Morocco.
We drove around 2 or 3 hours before making our first stop a small café to use the restroom and buy more water. The bus A/C was not working well when the driver permitted it to be turned on so all we had in the back was the air from the driver and passenger windows. Apparently the engine isn’t great and it can’t drive up the steep mountain slopes and run A/C. We drove over the Tizi-N-Tichka mountain pass, one of the highest spots in the range and were able to take some photographs. The Atlas mountains are like the Appalachians and once rivaled the height of the Himalayan Mountains. They are mostly sandstone and red in color.
Next we arrived at Ksar of Ait Ben Haddou. This is a group of dwellings built from mud and straw surrounded by defensive walls. It was a stop along the trade caravan from Marrakech to the Sahara. The river that typically runs along the city is dried up, not enough snowfall the last year so the mud brown village looks like a barren wasteland. Many movies have been filmed there, including Lawrence of Arabia, The Mummy, and Gladiator. Before entering we first purchased overpriced scarves to be tied on our heads to help in the heat, especially the desert. They wrapped them on our heads like turbans and you can put it across your face to protect from sand. Our guide only spoke French and Arabic so we didn’t really know what we were looking at the entire time inside and Ryan hit his head multiple times on the low ceilings. The group was all European. 2 French women, a Polish man, 4 Spaniards, a couple from Macedonia, 3 Austrian women, and 3 Italian men. Luckily for us, everyone spoke a little English.
We made it to the top of the city and experienced strong winds in 108 degree weather. We’d never experienced wind this hot it before, it practically burned your face. We stopped for lunch and shared chicken couscous and a banana juice. We are staying hydrated and burning through $1 1.5-liter bottles like crazy.
We piled back into the bus and drove an additional 3-ish hours, making a few stops along the way towards the gorge. Looking out the window of the car, the landscape reminded Elizabeth of Mars. The soil is so red, and the Berber villages we were passing were made of that very soil so they tended to blend into the surroundings.
The gorge is a bit of an oasis and the valley is full of green trees and farm land. We stopped in the gorge to take photos of the smooth sandstone walls rounded by the wind and finally around 7 pm. We were staying in a large Riad and had our own room but without A/C. We opened the window and Elizabeth prayed a bat didn’t fly in. That night we chatted with our new tour “friends” and shared chicken tajine and salad. The salad consisted of diced up tomatoes, bell peppers and onions in a vinegar sauce that is delicious. We are getting sick of hot food and tea in the heat so the salad is always welcome and we haven’t gotten sick yet. Dessert was watermelon – so not really dessert according to Elizabeth. Sleeping was hot for the first few hours, and loud, as Moroccans never seem to sleep – even though they don’t drink.
Day 5 – Sahara Desert – August 2
We were the first ones down for breakfast the next morning, and had been the first to dinner the night before. The Spaniards began asking us if the Americans were hungry often. We were determined to get better seats on the bus. We finished our tea, OJ, breads, and crepes and were on the bus in the first row 15 mins early. The Austrians were almost last one and slightly upset they weren’t getting their previous spot. We began more driving, a total of 5 hours today then the camels.
We drove a few hours towards Tinghir and Todra Gorge. The bus dropped us off and a tour guide led us into the valley and through the crop fields. He explained here they grow the alfalfa for the animals and feed the entire town. Small children were weaving animal shapes out of leaves and asking for money. We walked into an old Mosque and were able to go inside. The man who lives there now is French and gave us a long French lecture on the history of the area. Ryan found a piece of paper with English in the prayer room.
Next we wandered across the valley into the town of Tinghir. This town was also made of mud and hay and a lot of people here live in poverty. We went through the old Jewish quarter built 400 years ago and children followed the group asking for money. We were invited into a Berber home to see how they lived. Really, we had to go into a rug shop and sat on the hot floor drinking hot tea while a man tried to sell us his rugs – he kept insisting there was no pressure to buy one. Berber rugs are famous and made using the traditional looming tools. He had rugs made from camels, sheep, and cactus fiber all ranging from $100 euro to infinity. We were held hostage for a while and the Austrian ladies made the mistake about asking how much a particular one was. We think she was just curious but he took her into a side room and tried to haggle with her. Eventually we were set free and picked up more water before heading into Todra Gorge.
Todra is absolutely beautiful. A natural spring runs through steep, tall sandstone walls and people bring their herds of sheep there to graze. We spent a bit of time watching the sheep and cooling our feet in the cold water of the spring. Finally, it was lunch time and we went to a tourist trap lunch area where we sat on long sofas outside. Elizabeth ordered Galia which is like a frittata and comes in a tajine and Ryan got the grilled chicken. Then we were back in the car and had 3 hours to drive before reaching the Sahara.
We stopped at a gas station about an hour out to refuel and get some melted and refrozen ice cream novelties. Stepping out of the van we felt scorching wind. Hotter than either of us had ever experienced. It might not be humid like it is in Houston, but the locals wear long pants and shirts! Eventually, we rolled into the desert and found a herd of camels. Apparently, we were on a different tour – we knew something had been off the whole time – so we dropped off our “friends” and headed with the driver another 15 minutes to the town of Mezourga, where we’d sleep in the hotel the following night. We were running late and had about 10 minutes to pack a small bag and leave the rest of our belongings with the hotel to catch up with the group headed towards the camels.
We crossed the road and about 50 camels sat ready to take different passengers. We hopped on and the camel rose by first standing up its back legs so you are leaning over the head trying not to fall off then getting up on its front legs. Camels have crazy joints in their legs; you should Google it. The front ones’ fold like our knees do with our feet kicking behind us but their back legs fold the opposite direction in multiple places. The desert is stunning and we were led in a camel group of four by a young man walking through the desert. At this point it was around 6:45 or 7 and the sun was starting to set behind us.
We only rode for an hour and a half, but it got old quick. Not the scenery or the camels mind you, but the sitting on an uncomfortable hump part. It hurt the butt. It was like riding a horse or going to a spin class for the first time. We stopped about half way and sat on a huge dune to watch the sun set. It was really cloudy so, really, we just rested our butts until we were told to get back on. The camel walkers seemed to like talking to the Americans, and since we were the only ones, kept asking us if we were Obama Tribe or Trump Tribe. Finally, we made it to camp and Ryan’s testicles were thankful.
We were assigned a private tent that had both a double bed and a single bed. The tents were hot without A/C or ventilation, but otherwise pretty comfortable. We had about an hour of free time until dinner, so we wandered the dunes and listened to some Asian guests who thought they were getting a luxury tent with A/C and a private bathroom. We were ushered into a big tent for dinner and had Moroccan salad, Galia with beef, and watermelon. Elizabeth is over the food. We sat across from a couple who are cooks in Amsterdam and told us they’d give us a restaurant tour if we come to visit. It’s called CIRCL.
After dinner we were gathered around a fire pit, thank the Lord they didn’t light it, and they played on their drums and tried to get everyone to dance. At this point it was dark and the stars were coming out. Outside of each tent was a lightbulb so you could see the bats swooping in and out of peoples’ tents, we were smart and closed our door early. After an hour of drums, we wandered over to the dunes and laid on some foam mattresses to watch the stars. Surprisingly, there was still some light pollution from the town about 5 km away, but the sky was clear. Even though the sun had set hours ago, the sand was still hot. They stopped playing the drums around midnight and we actually managed to get some sleep in our tent listening to the moaning of camels.
Day 6 – Mezourga – August 3
The tour schedule stated that it was recommended to watch the sunrise (6:46 am) then eat breakfast and ride the camels out of the desert. There was a bang on our tent at 5 am, still pitch black out and everyone was led back out onto their camels. It was cool to ride in the dark and luckily not too hot, about 80 degrees. The sun slowly rose behind us lighting the dunes, but it was cloudy so not a beautiful picturesque ride. We made it back to the hotel around 7 and enjoyed more bread and crepes. Since we were spending the night we waiting around for about an hour until our room was ready.
We spent the rest of the day napping, watching movies, and playing in the pool. The temperature reached 109 degrees and luckily the pool was cool. We’d swim around with the Europeans/locals, then lounge reading etc. in the shade until we couldn’t bear it, then swim until we were pruned. The staff doesn’t speak a lot of English so we had some memorable experiences trying to communicate. Halfway through the day our A/C started acting funny (i.e. stopped working). It would shut off after about 30 seconds and wouldn’t always turn back on. We told the staff and eventually got moved to a new room with a brand-new unit. The problem was the new bed felt like it was filled with plywood. We had to make a difficult decision, A/C or plywood bed and the A/C won.
Since the beginning of the tour there has been confusion about where we were supposed to be and who was picking us up. We were set to leave for Fes the next morning, but those were our only instructions. We had dinner that night sitting around the pool area at 9 o’clock. We were served bread, rice and cooked eggplant, and either lamb or goat tajine. Halfway through, the power went out and we ate by cellphone light shone through a water bottle. We prayed it would come back on before we were done eating so our A/C would work that night. Dessert was watermelon, Elizabeth was sick of it, and a fruit called loquat. We’d both never heard of it; it’s a large yellow melon like fruit and absolutely delicious. The power came back on and we slept that night, cool, but on our wood filled mattress.
Day 7 – Fes – August 4
Still unsure when we were leaving, we got up at 7:30 and at breakfast, crepes, breads, and yogurt and waited for our transfer. The front desk made several calls trying to figure out where to put us and eventually told us a taxi would come for us. We sat by the pool as the sun heated the area and ended up waiting 2 hours for our taxi after being told several times only 15 more minutes. Eventually a man arrived and we were loaded into the back seat of a7 person car behind three Chinese tourists. Their luggage was strapped on top and ours barely fit in the backseat. We realized about 30 seconds in the car didn’t have A/C and we’d have to have all the windows down. Not a great way to start a 7-hour drive.
Our taxi driver was a madman. Drivers are pretty aggressive in Morocco but he took it to the next level making other Moroccan drivers honk at him for reckless passing on the interstate. We said we loved each other and hoped we’d arrive in one peace. We made a stop at the base of the Atlas Mountains and took some photos and poked around the shop. It was obviously a tourist trap and were trying to charge 30 Dirham, or 3 dollars, for a small container of Pringles.
We traveled a few more hours, the scenery was beautiful in a desolate way and we continued to pass Berber villages. People walked from town to town along the highway, women covered from head to toe, I don’t know how they survive the heat. We learned quickly we don’t want to live in a desert. Around 1:30 we stopped for lunch. Sick of eating meat at boiling hot temperatures we split chicken skewers and a crappy pizza. The pizza was covered in olives but a welcome change. Dessert was more loquat and grapes! We piled back into the car and had about a 3-hour drive remaining. Our taxi driver was shaving about 10 minutes off every hour of the Google time estimate. We were torn if we were happy to get there sooner, or upset that we were narrowly avoiding head-on collisions every few minutes. About an hour out, we transitioned from desert into forested mountain area. We pulled over briefly to take pictures with monkeys that lived in the hills before finally descending into Fes.
Our driver was kind of an ass and refused to drop us off near our hotel, only leaving us where the Chinese people wanted to be dropped. We began our 20-minute walk through the Medina hoping Google maps wouldn’t lose a signal. Along the way several skeevy looking young men aggressively offered directions and help. We’d read online that they will get you where you need to go, but then demand payment. We turned them down, which angered them and continued trusting Google. Ryan led us straight there no problem to our hotel Dar Essoaoude. Fatima, the woman running it, was very helpful and gave us cookies, tea and water as she described Fes. She told us it wasn’t a very safe city and to not stay out after dark and avoid everything outside of the historic district. We were led up to our room and were so excited to find we were staying in their nice suite on the top floor. We had working A/C and a huge room and bathroom. On the terrace were beautiful views of the city and a spot for lounging. We were too tired from the journey to venture into the city so we spent the night enjoying the cool A/C; it’s the little things!
Day 8 – Fes – August 5
We accidently slept for 10 hours that night, our bodies probably recovering from the last few days. We at our breakfast on the terrace and enjoyed French bread, 4 types of jam (one being key lime flavored), a pancake-like thing, hot rolls that tasted just like hamburger buns, eggs, and coffee.
The day was heating up and we were determined to get a jump start. We headed out with a water bottle and entered through the Medina gates. Fes is the oldest of Moroccan imperial cities, founded in 789 and has been the capital 3 times. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and recognized as one of the best preserved Arab-Muslim towns in North Africa.
Our first stop was Chaouwara Tannery. This is the oldest and largest of the traditional tanneries in the city, dating back to the medieval times. We wandered through the medina maze following other tourist to reach the tannery. At the door men offer you fresh mint so you can lessen the smell from the ammonia, but we turned it down for fear of being hassled for money later. You go up several flights of winding stairs passing a leather purse shop and a leather jacket shop until you reach the roof. Here you overlook he many ponds of different dyes and leather being mixed in them. People stand in the shallow pools mixing the leather with their hands and feet. You wonder what chemicals they are being subjected to.
Next we went to the Medersa Bou Inania built between 1351 and 1357 and originally was an old theological college. We had difficulty finding it, Google weaving us through the narrow Medina streets. Eventually we came the vicinity and the Google dot showed us circling it but we couldn’t find the door. We asked an old shop keep and he showed us the way. We’ve found that when lost, people are willing to help, but it’s safest to ask local shop keepers instead of the teenage sleezebags. Medersa means education building and this is the only religious building in the city that non-muslim people can enter. It cost 20 dirham a person, 2 dollars, and we got to explore the courtyard area and look into the mosque.
After we wandered out of the medina to the famous Blue Gate. We discovered it looked like the other medina gates, only blue. We were feeling particularly hot and very sweaty having hustled through the city and decided to take a break. We headed to Café Clock, and again struggled to find it, but luckily a butcher pointed us in the right direction. The café was aesthetically very pleasing with three floor and a rooftop overlooking the city. We tried to sit up there but were too hot, so we drank our chocolate milkshake and banana lassi inside. The lassi had ice in it but they insisted it was filtered. Here’s to hoping we don’t get food poisoning.
We’d been without alcohol for a week and found a bar, the British Saloon, only five minutes away. We walked through the gate and everything looked closed. A man ushered us through a door and we found ourselves in a hotel pool area with a bar. We each had two Flag Special beers (each only 24 centiliters – 8 oz) and sat by the pool. They weren’t too expensive, 2 for 50 dirhams. Elizabeth began to feel the potential onset of sickness, so we hustled back to the hotel and hid in the A/C.
That night, we ate dinner on the rooftop terrace. We ordered Pastilla, a Moroccan dish that consists of a ground chicken mixture in a pastry and covered in cinnamon sugar. It went together unexpectedly well. We were each served a giant one after getting hot tea, bread, and 6 small appetizer plates. Dessert after was bananas and apples in a bowl of OJ and melon. We met another couple also staying in the hotel. She is Belgium and he is Italian and they both live in northern Italy now. They are beginning their camel tour soon and were anxious to pick our brains for advice.
Day 9 – Fes – August 6
We slept in again taking our terrace breakfast at 9 am. Our room is so nice, spacious and cold, it’s hard to leave. Morocco is starting to get to us. It’s exhausting to constantly be badgered and tricked. We walked 30 minutes to the Jnan Sbil Gardens. The garden was located on the way to the royal palace and outside of the medina. Elizabeth got us lost trying to wind through the tall, narrow streets. Ryan’s GPS skills are really shinning in Morocco. Finally, we made it to the garden. It was beautiful with lots of benches in the shade and paths. There was a lake and an area with a fountain.
We found some shade near the fountain and hunkered down to enjoy the temperature and read. After about 15 minutes our relaxation was broken by a man named Hammad. He loves Americans and has some professional role in the park. He wanted to prove he had an American friend, no that we said anything to contradict him, so he showed us a thread of Whatsapp messages. He began giving us advice on the town, where to not buy things, what other cities to visit, what areas to avoid. He said tour guides take you to expensive places, then get a cut of the commission, which we’d already figured out. He then told us about the association for divorced women and that they sell stuff cheaper and no one gets commission. He told us to get up and let’s go. We told him we were enjoying the park and wanted to keep reading. He left for about 15 more minutes then came to tell us the association was closing soon, so we needed to go and could come back to the park later. Ryan declined him again and he finally got the message. We wonder what commission he was getting.
Soon we left the park – still not feeling 100%, slight upset stomachs and walked to the royal palace. The royal family primarily lives in Rabat, but they have a palace in every city in case they are in town. To get there we had to walk through a lot of markets. These markets were different since they were in the new city in that they were primarily used by Moroccans. Elizabeth wore a T-shirt and shorts, not booty shorts, and still felt like she was getting some looks. We made it to the palace and looked at the large golden doors, unable to go inside. Hot and tired we walked back to the hotel, buying ice cream and Paprika Pringles to enjoy; still no Doritos sightings here.
We swam in the plunge pool and lounged around until dinner, chatting with our tourist neighbors. They gave us more advice for places to visit in Belgium and Italy. Dinner that night was chicken couscous, enough to feed a family for 6. We started with potatoes, zucchini and carrot soup and these delicious fried potato cakes. Dessert was peaches and grapes. We tried to go to bed early knowing we had an early train to catch to make our bus to Chefchaouen the next day, the Blue City.
Day 10 – Chefchaouen – August 7
We got up at 6 and had a breakfast of chocolate croissant, fresh OJ, and crepes. We hopped in a cab and were driven the 15 minutes to the bus stop, if you remember we’d bought tickets back in Marrakesh when we sent our money away with a friend of the hotel owner. The cab drive either said 7 or 70 dirham, we were both so tired we just gave him the 70, it felt wrong to only pay 70 cents for a cab ride. We checked our bags at the but station like you do in an airport, it cost us 50 cents to check both bags. We had about a 3.5-hour drive ahead of us, but luckily this time we were on a large air conditioned coach bus. And we were in the front seats!
Unfortunately, the man next to us had the worst body odor we’ve ever encountered and the bus stopped 3 different times for breaks so the drive took us 4.5 hours. When we weren’t smelling Mr. Neverheardofdeoderant, we watched the countryside pass with olive tree fields into more luscious mountains and ate the rest of our seed-in grapes. We decided to walk to our AirBnB in the old medina (20 minutes) instead of taxi, not realizing the walk would all be uphill, but we needed the exercise. We arrived outside of one the seven gates into the old Medina called Bab EL Ain. A tall man named Ishmael our AirBnB host, guided us on a short walk through the Blue Pearl. Already we are enjoying this city more, it seemed much more laid back and we’ve only been harassed by 2 people. We have a whole apartment to ourselves for the next two nights. The setup of the house is really interesting. It’s narrow with a thin staircase and each floor is a different room. Starting at the bottom you have the front door, then bedroom, then kitchen and bathroom, then living room, and finally terrace. The terrace is the reason we chose the AirBnB. It looks out over the blue city with stunning views.
We were hungry from the journey, but sick of Moroccan food. Ryan found a Chinese restaurant called Mr BIN CHINESE RESTURANT – that’s how the name appears on Google. To get there we got to weave through the blue city. The walls, sidewalks, doors are all painted different shades of blue and white. Per usual there were cats everywhere and Elizabeth saw one that had a huge infectious gash splitting open half its skull – we stayed away. We split Kung Pao Chicken, which tasted unlike any Kung Pao we’d had before, and beef noodles – the noodles were room temperature, a rare treat. We headed back to the AirBnB and sat in the shade of the terrace as long as we could – taking breaks to cool off in front of the freezer.
Around 7 we figured it was safe to go back outside, apparently the entire city had the same thought. The narrow streets were bustling with people. Chefchaouen appears to be a vacation destination for Moroccans as well. We wandered up through the winding streets to towards Ras El Ma. This is where the river water comes into the city and people used to wash clothes here. Washing still takes place, but now there are restaurants with tables and chairs in the water and lots of shops. There was even an ostrich and peacock you could pose with, for a fee.
We continued our way through the city with one mission: ice cream. It was still warm and we hadn’t eaten since our Chinese lunch. We paused a few times to take pictures down blue, colorful alleyways before finally finding our treat in the Kasbah, which is a brown fort building that overlooks the city. Around it the square is packed with restaurants and shops.
We returned to the AirBnB and caught the final call to prayer, around 9:30 from our rooftop terrace watching the sunset. We settled in for sleep and unfortunately found out the street below our bedroom window comes alive with men chatting, children screaming, and dogs barking. Yikes.
Day 11 – Akchour – August 8
We left our room around 9 am and headed to find a shared grand taxi to Akchour. Akchour is about 45 minutes away by car from Chefchaouen and takes you deep into the mountain valley to a small town where you can swim in the river and hike. We’d read online to ask for a shared cab and it’ll only cost 25 dirhams a person, or $2.50. We found the cabs and waited about 15 minutes for more passengers to arrive. We rode with a father and daughter who live in France, the father is originally from Morocco. They have a home in Casablanca and were visiting the blue city and Akchour for the first time. After another frightful cab ride going too fast, this time with no seatbelts, we arrived around 10:30.
Luckily people on the internet gave very detailed instructions for how to find the trails. Moroccans rip down signs to they can be paid to guide tourists. We came to this dam and had two options, the path on the left led to the waterfalls and the path on the left led to swimming areas. We went left and began the steep climb through the mountains. The rocks here are very hard and slick. We hiked for about 45 minutes, 2 miles or so, walking along the river and passing a bunch of restaurants with chairs and tables in the water and people selling fresh squeezed OJ. The trail was very dusty and we were covered with a layer of grime. We crossed the river a few times via rickety bridges and cement blocks acting like stepping stones. When we were close to the lower falls the river dried up. We’d read that late in the summers the waterfalls can disappear if not enough snowfall from the previous year couldn’t sustain the river. We debated about continuing to see if the water picked back up, but were hot and hungry so we headed back.
Next we went to the right of the dam. This is where the locals and all the kids were hanging out. We found a shaded table at the edge of the deepest part of the river and went for a swim. Elizabeth swam in her clothes; other women were swimming and playing in the water in full Hijabs. The water was ice cold and could have been much dirtier. We paddled around and stood on the rough rocks until our body temperatures fell again.
Next we moved back onto the shallow river and found a table and chairs to sit, the water coming halfway up our calves. We ordered fresh squeezed orange juices and watched the families around us splash and play in the water. We also tried our first cactus fruit for 1 diram, or 10 cents, each. A man walks around with two buckets, one filled with unpeeled fruit and the second for the peels, then slices the fruit and hands it to you. The fruit was yellow and had a lot of seeds. Not our favorite even though Ryan liked it. Another one of those fruits that is a lot more pleasant when you’ve never had the wonders of modern agriculture, e.g. seedless grapes, watermelons, etc.
Around 1:30 the day was getting hot and we were getting hungry. The restaurants seemed to only serve boiling tajine along the river and we couldn’t eat this again. We made our way back through the town and to the taxi station. Wanting a cheaper ride, we had to wait 30 minutes for other passengers returning to Chefchaouen. We made it back and immediately sought out food. We settled on Moroccan fast food called All Good Azhar, where we ran into the two Macedonians from our camel trek. We ordered the quesadilla and taco, not horrible but not great. We obviously found some ice cream then headed back to our Airbnb around 5. We spent the night lounging, watching the Mummy – obviously, and getting ready for our next travel leg. We leave for Rome in a couple days and needed to find a place to sleep!
Day 12 – Tangier – August 9
We slept much better the second night and got up to eat brunch at Clock Café, the same chain café we went to in Fes. Elizabeth got pancakes covered in fruit and caramel sauce and Ryan got granola, yogurt, and fruit with milk to mix together. Everything was delicious, came with tea, coffee, OJ, and water and cost us $10. We walked through the blue city one last time before grabbing our bags and heading to find a shared taxi to Tangier.
The taxi area, really a small side road, was hilarious chaos. Everyone was shouting in Arabic and French. We told them we wanted to take a group taxi to Tangier and we were told to stand with some other French people on the sidewalk. We stood around for probably 15 minutes watching everyone yell at each other and move cars around on the narrow street. Eventually we all settled into a minivan to begin our 2 hour and fifteen-minute journey. It took longer, our driver had to stop every hour for a smoke break but it wasn’t a horrible drive. We’ve noticed that in Morocco, sheep travel inside of car trunks, strapped to roofs, and in actual car seats, so we kept an eye out for sheep transportation techniques.
We arrived in Tangier around 3 pm and were about 30 minutes from our hotel by walking. The cab drivers wanted $10 to take us to our hotel, more than what we’d just paid for the multiple hour drive to get there, so we walked. Thank God we did for we finally found Doritos! In Morocco Pringles are king and these were the first ones we’d seen. Since it was our 6-month anniversary Ryan sprung for all three flavors: Chili (10/10), Sweet Chili Pepper (8.5/10), and Cheese and Spices (6/10 – Ryan thinks it should be 8/10). We carried them to the hotel like prizes.
We are staying in the Fredj Hotel and Spa. We have a lovely room, with air conditioning and a view of the We are staying in the Fredj Hotel and Spa. We have a lovely room, with air conditioning and a view of the city. We immediately made our way down to the pool and enjoyed cooling our bodies off, and Ryan of course ordered some beers. We drank Flag Speciale and Casablanca. Now it was time to eat. We obviously found the only Indian restaurant in the city and it was only a half mile away. Our hotel was not in the old Medina and we were staying in the new city for the first time. What a difference, we barely got hassled, but we did have to fight the huge crowds of people milling about on a Friday night. Finally, we made it to the restaurant only to find out they were closed. We didn’t realize it was a holiday weekend, Eid al-Adha, one of the major Muslim holidays. Feeling defeated, but determined to not eat Moroccan food, we decided to try the McDonalds. 00 d0cf11e0a1city. We immediately made our way down to the pool and enjoyed cooling our bodies off, and Ryan of course ordered some beers. We drank Flag Speciale and Casablanca. Now it was time to eat. We obviously found the only Indian restaurant in the city and it was only a half mile away. Our hotel was not in the old Medina and we were staying in the new city for the first time. What a difference, we barely got hassled, but we did have to fight the huge crowds of people milling about on a Friday night. Finally, we made it to the restaurant only to find out they were closed. We didn’t realize it was a holiday weekend, Eid al-Adha, one of the major Muslim holidays. Feeling defeated, but determined to not eat Moroccan food, we decided to try the McDonalds
The McDonalds was very fancy with a separate bakery/café and a nice building. We ordered at the French language automated machines and it took us a while to translate all the options. Ryan got the Big Mac and McFlurry, while Elizabeth ordered a regular hamburger, Moroccan steak fries, and a sundae. It was disgusting in that so-bad-it’s-good-and-tastes-like-home kind of way. We went back to the hotel and got a bottle of Moroccan wine to drink by the pool. Their specialty is called gray wine, so you can image our disappointment to find out it’s not actually gray in color. In fact, the French have their own gray wine, it’s anything with ‘gris’ in the name – that’s just gray in French. Gray wine production is basically a modified rosé production method, which extracts some juice to make a pale rosé (aka vin gris) then uses the remaining juice and the grape skins to make a concentrated red wine.
Day 13- Tangier – August 10
First, we enjoyed our breakfast buffet, which had meats, eggs, potatoes and a nice change from just bread and crepes, then we enjoyed the pool. We lounged around all day, bouncing between the pool and the lounge chairs. There were a lot of French families staying, so we listened to children shouting French. Lunch consisted of beers and leftover Doritos, and even though it’s much cooler along the ocean, highs in the 80’s, we still had to seek shelter under an umbrella from the beating sun.
For dinner, Elizabeth wanted to try Moroccan fast food, so we went to a restaurant called Oh!Bun. Elizabeth got a “taco” and Ryan a chicken sandwich. A Moroccan taco is very similar to a TacoBell Crunch Wrap Supreme and is a toasted tortilla, the difference is in Morocco they are stuffed with meat, cheese, sauce, and French fries. All was delicious in again that so-bad-it’s-good-tastes-like-home way. We walked to the beach after dinner and touched the water and looked across to Spain, the Strait of Gibraltar is only 9 miles wide at its narrowest point. We made our way across the sand and there were camels and horses taking tourists on rides. We walked back on the outskirts of the Medina, again in the chaos and hassling of salesmen and homeless people before arriving back to the hotel. We had a nightcap of Flag Especial and prepared for our flight the next day to Rome.
Day 14 – Tangier – August 11
We ate our hotel breakfast then left for a taxi to the Tangier International airport. We took in the last Moroccan sights and smells (both good and bad) and hung out in the alcohol-free lounge until our flight. Morocco has been such an interesting experience for us. I think we went back and forth between loving and hating our time here on an hourly basis. Our advice to people thinking of coming is: Number 1, don’t come in August. A lot of our anguish came from being trapped in the heat with no reprieve including no cold beer. The colors and history are rich but you’ll always feel like people are trying to take advantage of you. Number 2, stay strong, don’t be afraid to leave the taxi station and just walk.
Things we’ve learned in Morocco:
- The food and tea are all served boiling hot, a downside in 100-degree weather, but an upside when trying to avoid food poisoning.
- The entire country is currently constructing roads for the first time or repairing roads (or so it seems, and we drove a lot!) This makes passing through mountains in large vans and buses very bumpy.
- Apparently in 2017 Morocco tried to improve their child labor laws, limiting work as only domestic for kids ages 16-18. Not sure what sort of enforcement they’re doing. Walking through the many Souks we observed several young children sewing shoes and other leather products or tending shop.
- The call to prayer is blasted from every mosque rooftop speaker 5 times a day. The speaker systems aren’t great so the cacophony of Arabic prayers sounds like a mix between traffic jams and tornado sirens.
Ryan and Elizabeth Goss 