It has taken some time but here is the second to last installment of my abroad blogs. I left Barcelona at the end of April for (hopefully not) the last time. It was tough but it was time to move on. The next adventure was Marrakech, Morocco. I went with my friend Annika who was the same girl I went to Switzerland with. We left on May 1^st early in the morning, but we took a cab instead of the bus. We weren’t taking any chances with another missed flight. I left my large suitcase at the airport in storage and took my backpacking backpack for my two-week journey.

The first impression anyone receives when they fly to a new place is the airport. The Marrakech airport left a good one. It was my favorite airport that I went to by far. Everything looked brand new and the architecture was artistic. From there we got a cab into the city. The entire cab ride neither Annika nor I said a word, we were just observing. It’s a lot to take in, Morocco is unlike any other place in Europe. The air was hot and dry (as one might imagine, given that it is the same latitude as the Sahara Desert), and all the smells were different. It isn’t possible to exactly capture a smell in words, but it was somewhere in between car exhaust and grilled chicken. The sounds were unique as well. Among the normal sounds of a busy street, there was music being played on drums, Muslim prayers being chanted over loud speakers, and of course the people themselves. The language of Arabic is fascinating. It just crackles with energy and enthusiasm when people converse. I enjoyed just listening to my surroundings with my eyes closed.

Then there is the sense which provides the most information: what I saw. The city is divided into two sections. The first is the old city, which is in the center and surrounded by a large wall. The second part is the new city, which is just the city expanding outside of the wall. The new city is more progressive due to tourism, so you can find things such as supermarkets and nightclubs. The old city is where we spent all our time and it lives up to the name. The streets and buildings were designed long before cars existed, but that didn’t stop people from trying to drive through them. There was no grid pattern or any pattern at all to the streets, it was a complete labyrinth. The buildings were many different shades of brown and none stood more than five or six stories tall. There were no crosswalks for pedestrians and nobody obeyed the lanes on the roads. The entire network of streets flirted with the line between order and chaos and yet everyone seemed to get where they needed to go one way or another.

The cab driver dropped us off near the main square in the old town called Jemaa el-Fnaa. He told that he could not take us any closer because there was a protest blocking the streets. Sure enough, there were hundreds of people marching with signs chanting something in Arabic. The driver pointed at a narrow street for us to walk along and told us to keep following it until we found our hotel. He couldn’t have been more vague if he tried. We exited the taxi and played “Frogger” crossing the street to arrive at the main square. The square is massive. If you are ever in Marrakech I’m sure it’ll be one of the first places you see. There are hundreds of shops set up forming rows that sell anything from food, clothing, or pictures with snakes. Walking through it was a sensory overload. Me being a tall white guy with no beard, I might as well have carry a neon sign that says “tourist”. You couldn’t walk 100 feet without four different people trying to sell you something.

We crossed the square and went down the street that the cab driver pointed at. Neither of us had cell phone service in Morocco nor did we have even a paper map, so we were truly walking blindly through a city that is confusing enough as it is. The street in most other cities would be considered an alley going off just the width of it. That didn’t stop store vendors from setting up shops on either side. Nor did it stop motor bikes from screaming by the pedestrians. The narrow street was shaded from all the clotheslines creating a canopy above us. Due to Morocco’s location, it has been influenced by many cultures over many centuries. Primarily Spanish and Arabic influence. Its location also makes it the recipient of many European tourists. We quickly learned that many people in Morocco spoke multiple languages, which helped tremendously because I didn’t know a single word in Arabic. Walking down the street/alley we asked many people where our hotel was and they kept pointing us down the same street.

Eventually, one man offered to take us directly to the hotel. We said “OK”, but doing some reading before the trip we had been warned about “fake tour guides” who offer to show you around but then take you to a back alley to squeeze some money out of you. So we followed hesitantly with a good bit of distance between us. At one point, he turned off the street into a narrower alley. Annika and I stopped and double checked the street that our hotel was on. The guy kept reassuring us, but our skepticism was at an all-time high. Due to the fact we had no idea where we were, we kept following him with extreme caution. The guy was about half my height and weight, so I liked my chances. He then turned again into a narrower, darker alley. This alley looked like exactly the place a person would take a tourist to rob them. Annika stopped and said she didn’t want to go further, and I didn’t blame her. The situation was getting sketchier by the second. However, we still had no clue where we were and I had some experience in stopping pickpockets before so I convinced her to go on. Walking down the dark alley, two men who were much bigger than the scrawny tour guide began walking toward us from the opposite direction. I thought, “Damn, this is the trap he led us into.” As the two men got closer Annika and I hugged the wall ready for the worst. The guys walked by us, and our guide was looking back wondering what was taking us so long. Temporarily relieved, we continued to follow him. After another turn, he stopped and turned to look at us. We stared back. “We are here,” he said plainly. We turned to our right and sure enough, a door with a small sign that read the name of our hotel.

Surprised and a little embarrassed, we gave him a tip for his troubles and knocked on the door. The hotel manager greeted us and brought us to the lobby. The hotel was called the Riad Libidabo. A Moroccan Riad is any building with a garden or courtyard in the middle. Many buildings in Morocco were like this because the hole in the center of the roof kept air flowing and naturally cooled the building down. The lobby consisted of two large booths in the shade and a small pool slightly bigger than a hot tub in the center. The manager sat us down and made us some green tea (which was delicious). He told us a little about the city and possible excursions we could do with the hotel. He also told us that he spoke five languages (English, Arabic, Spanish, French, and German) and his father spoke nine. This guy was impressive, and very friendly.

After about 20 minutes, our room was ready and we settled in. A rule of thumb I learned while traveling is to sleep at every opportunity. So we did just that. We awoke an hour later and planned the rest of the day. It was early afternoon so we had some time to see the city. First we talked to the hotel manager about possible excursions we could do. We only had four days in Morocco, so we wanted to see as much as possible. For the next day we planned a trip to the Ouzoud Falls, and the following two days we would spend out in the desert. With our agenda set, we spent the rest of the day exploring the old city of Marrakech. By explore I mean I planned my route very carefully and avoided wandering around aimlessly. It is extraordinarily easy to get lost in that city. First, we visited Le Jardin Secret (The Secret Garden) which is hundreds of years old but was only released to the public last year. The garden was like a hidden oasis in the middle of the city. It belonged to many different emperors and sultans over the centuries. One ruler was even assassinated with poison in the garden in the 13^th century. Way cool. The garden was maybe a little bigger than half a football field. It had high walls and many fountains fed by natural springs. It was fascinating.

Next we walked back to the main square. I don’t like looking like a tourist, so I try to avoid doing things such as wear T-shirts with movie references on them. However, the only other white people I saw were other tourists so it seemed like my efforts were futile. We obviously couldn’t talk to everyone that tried to sell us something, but we did talk to a decent number of locals. Annika paid too much money for a picture we got with some snakes. A lady tried to sell Annika a henna tattoo by forcibly drawing it on her arm. I haggled with a guy selling shirts and ended up getting him down to a third of the price. We spent almost an hour in the square before going to a rooftop restaurant for dinner. The restaurant overlooked the entire square and part of the city. The view was obviously spectacular. I sat and ate my chicken tagine with a salad and fruit while listening to the drums and prayer chants. Late afternoon turned to dusk while we ate and we could see the sun set over the rooftops. Somehow, we found our way back to the hotel in the dark and called it an early night because we had an early start the next day.

We awoke at dawn and were greeted by a driver who would take us to the waterfalls. The driver was a large, burly man with a thick beard. He didn’t say much as he led us through the winding alleys to a van waiting in the middle of an alley. I wasn’t sure how he got it there because I thought all the surrounding alleys were just for pedestrians and small motorbikes. That being said, there weren’t many sidewalks for people or lanes for cars, so the traffic rules were a bit flexible. Once in the van, he did an 11-point turn to face the other direction before barreling straight down the alley. Luckily it was early in the morning and many people weren’t out yet, but the ones who were regretted going down that alley. People were jumping out of the way and cursing at us in Arabic the entire way to the meeting point where we changed vans. The rest of the way was a more desolate road, so I relaxed. But I hadn’t seen someone drive with that much balls since the bus driver I had in Vietnam (a story for another day). The drive was about three hours. I got my first glimpse of the Moroccan countryside. There wasn’t much to see, but it was still more interesting than driving through Kansas.

Upon arriving at the Ouzoud Falls, we met a tour guide who walked us through the valley to get to the base of the falls. He also spoke several languages. He told us facts about Riads and the history of the area. A bucket list item I can cross off is that the Ouzoud Falls are the second tallest waterfalls in Africa (behind the Victoria falls). It sounded impressive when he was talking about it, but nothing could prepare me for when I saw the real thing. Up until that point, Morocco didn’t really feel like Africa. I had never been to Africa before, but based on what I’ve seen in videos and pictures, I had a different idea in my head. However, Africa is a huge continent. The second largest, in fact. Those who know a good deal about geography (which I have recently learned) know that Sub-Saharan Africa is an entirely different place than North Africa. North Africa is heavily influenced by Arabic and Islamic culture, making it more similar to the Middle East than its southern neighbors. Marrakech felt like the Middle East (I have never been but again, expectations). When I first saw the falls, that is when it felt like Africa. It had a vibe and look about it that was comprehensively different from Marrakech or anywhere in Europe. Again, I hope the pictures do it some justice, but it’s never the same.

The guided group stood on a patio deck figuratively drinking in the falls for a few minutes before continuing on to where the river begins. There, a ferryman on a canoe took us nearly to the point where the falls meet the water, well within the splash zone. Being soaking wet was a huge relief from the blazing sun. We then were dropped off on the other side of the river where we hiked back up to where we were dropped off by the van. on the way back up we stopped by some trees where we were surprised by monkeys. It only took a peanut to get them to climb on your shoulders. We ate lunch before leaving in the van. I had chicken tagine with a salad and fruit. The excursion had taken up most of the day, but we still had time for dinner when we arrived back in Marrakech. We decided to eat at another rooftop restaurant because everything is so cheap that it would be a waste not to. I went with a salad, chicken tagine, and fruit.

Early the following day, we left with the same cab driver who raced us to the same meeting point. This next excursion was a two-day trip where we spent a night in the desert. The car ride was nine hours long, so I was not looking forward to spending all that time in a full van. Expecting boring, brown desert, we spent half of the time driving through the Atlas Mountains. It surprised me by being one of the most beautiful drives I’ve ever been on. The road ran along near the peaks of the mountains so it gave amazing views of the valleys below. I grew up in Colorado and I’ve never see mountains like these before. About halfway through the drive we stopped in a small town called Ouarzazate, nicknamed “the door to the desert”. The town is famous for being the set for movies such as The Mummy, Gladiator, The Hills Have Eyes, and Game of Thrones. Some of the buildings in the town are almost ancient. Built originally by the Berbers, who were the occupants of Morocco long before the Arabs came from the East. Annika and I got split up from our group during the tour and spent most of our time there running around trying to find our van. Clearly we did, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this because I would be somewhere in the Moroccan desert. For lunch I had chicken tagine with a salad and fruit.

We continued to ride in the van for a few more hours through the Moroccan countryside. Passing through the towns and seeing the locals was interesting. Kids walked with their backpacks on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. I assume they were walking home from school, which must’ve been miles away. In the early evening, the van stopped for the last time. It stopped at a place that didn’t look like a campsite, so I was confused. Around the corner were a dozen camels sitting in the dirt. I thought it was cool that we got to see camels up close. Then someone hopped on one. Then it clicked for me that we’d be riding the camels into the desert. I have never even ridden a horse before so this was a bit of a shock. I climbed on a camel (whom I named Socrates) and struggled to get comfortable. A tour guide beckoned Socrates to stand up and I was launched ten feet into the air. That’s what it felt like because camels are enormous. After a few minutes everyone was settled, and we were off.

The ride was well over an hour, and camels are not comfortable. I have no idea how people hundreds of years ago rode camels across entire deserts. Although the back of an animal was not up to my First World standard of comfort, the ride overall was completely surreal. I never imagined myself riding on a camel through a desert. As we were riding, the sun was setting over the horizon. It felt like Tatooine in Star Wars. On the ride we met some fellow English speakers from the US and England. When the camels stopped, we were at a camp with large tents in a circle. The tents all had cots inside of them, but there were also sleeping pads outside. For dinner, they cooked us chicken tagine. For sides we had salad and fruit. After dinner, the guides played music and sang by a bonfire. Eventually I had to get away from the fire to see the stars. I had never seen stars like I saw in that desert. It was purely staring into the universe.

In the morning, we woke up early enough to see the sunset. That was the first time I had seen the sunset and sunrise in the same night/morning. We rode the camels back to the van and began the long journey home. It was nice to see all the sights again on the way back. Our flight back to Barcelona was that night, so we didn’t have much time to do anything else when we got back. This concludes one of my favorite trips. My other favorite trip, Ireland, is the next installment. My computer has been broken all summer so these are coming a little late.

May the force be with you,

Jack