Morocco, Part 1

31st October, 1999

The tour company had stressed that we must be at Algeciras at 9.45 a.m. - and we were - in order to wait an hour for the bus which started at Malaga.  We put our bags on the bus and were taken to our first guide, who gave us our immigration cards for Morocco and promptly forgot us.   Eventually, after another long wait, we boarded a somewhat seedy ferry and waited a further hour.  In the meantime we had met a Dublin couple (though the fella was really a Jordy) who wore scallop shells round their necks which we knew meant they had been pilgrims to Santiago.  They told us that they were stopping in Tangiers, but another English speaking couple were on our tour.

We arrived in Tangiers in glorious warm sunshine and hung around waiting for the bus.  We had noticed a small, slim Moroccan in 'fancy dress' smoking nervously and were initially a little disappointed when he announced that he was our guide.  Appearances can be deceptive and Soussi turned out to be the Star of the show and made our tour come to life.

The map above left was snapped in a tourist office and we apologise for its quality.  It shows that, although we were staying directly opposite Tangiers, we first went round the coast in order to come back in a boat then cross the Straits.   Then on our coach, after dropping off the Tangiers contingent, we journeyed down to Fez.  Above centre is the team, left to right: Carolyn, Kate, Alan and David, with the Rock of Gibraltar behind.  Above right is Soussi, taken later in the tour when we found he could really laugh. 

We went first to Larache, where we stopped for a very late lunch.  This was our first introduction to the two Morocco's.  We thought this was an 'included' meal and tucked in, even though we had picnicked on the boat.  We were presented with a bill that would have been a bit steep by Paris standards.  Just around the corner, we could have eaten well with the locals for pennies.  We were to realise that the Moroccans, whilst polite and friendly do see tourists as fair game.  We also came across our first beggars and hawkers.  Beggars are usually young children, who are most persistent in their demands for a few Dirhams and, at first, we were taken in.   Later, Soussi explained that the children never used to beg until kind tourists started giving them money because they looked cute.  Eventually, the kids realised it was easy money and turned it into a full time occupation. 

We also learned early on that Morocco is a police state - in the nicest possible way.  We were soon aware the every few kilometres there were roadside police checks.   These seemed friendly enough and Soussi told us that they never bothered tourists.   Within ten minutes of his saying this, to his and our driver's surprise, we were indeed stopped.  The police only wished to see the coach's documents and we were soon on our way.  We also noticed that all the towns were lined with flag poles with the national flag and bedecked with banners.  The new King was expected at some time to tour his Kingdom. 

We arrived late in the evening at Fez and, as we had booked the cheaper 4-star deal, we waited on the coach while the extravagant tourists took their rooms at the 5-star Fez Sheraton.  We were to learn that the star system in Morocco is not quite what you think.  5-star means 5-star, but 4-star scarcely means 3-star and we have definitely stayed in better 2-star hotels.  However, Soussi was to work his first miracle for us and, having waited for ages, returned to tell us that we were being upgraded.  We spent a most comfortable two nights in Fez.

By this time, we had got to know Janusz and Bronwyn, the Australians who made up our party of six English speakers.  Actually, 5.95 as Janusz is a Pole and his English is only nearly perfect.  In fairness, it has to be said, that this is pretty good since he also speaks almost perfectly Russian, German and Italian.  Janusz and Bronwyn are a bit younger than the rest of us, but are also on an indefinite European tour.  Janusz, who is a graduate communications engineer, escaped from Poland some time before the collapse of communism and seems to have had a successful, if brief, business career in Australia after a spell as a refugee in Italy. 

1st November, 1999

We had been told to be up early for our tour of Fez.  We were to learn that this tour was not for the lazy or tardy as we had much to cram in.  We also had our first introduction to the Moroccan tourist system, which is very well organised.   Soussi, and all the other guides, are state employees and work as a team to shepherd the tourists safely around.  This means that, although we did get to see the real Morocco and were subjected to all the hassle that a lone traveller must expect, we were really protected from any extremes.  It only required a guide to raise his finger to his mouth to silence any excessively persistent child beggar.  We also found in our meandering that odd guides would appear and disappear at strategic points and, if one even looked as though one might be lost, an arm would appear pointing the direction of the rest of our gang.

We were handed over to Abdul, who was the Fez specialist guide and began at the Royal Palace, shown below left.  The doors, detail below centre, are covered with hand-tooled bronze and are truly magnificent.  We then began one of the highlights of the tour - The Medina.  This is the old town of crowded streets and souks where there is virtually no mechanisation and donkeys the only form of transport.  We entered through the gate, shown below right, into another world. 

Below left is a typical street, with wares on display.  Below centre is the son of the craftsman who had made the bronze doors above.  He was demonstrating his craft in a shop - obviously intended for tourists, crammed with brass and bronze objects.   Here we had our first go at bartering and would have to say they got the better of us. 

Below left is Kate making way for a donkey and centre making her way up a crowded street.  Below right is the oldest Mosque in Fez and one of the oldest in the world.  

Below left is the remarkable ornate back wall of the Mosque at the other side of which are the mortal remains of the founder of the Mosque and Fez itself.  Abdul then warned us to prepare ourselves for a truly awful pong, as we were to visit the tannery, shown below centre and right.  Most of us have seen photos of this at some time, though we did not know it was in Fez.  In fact we didn't find the smell any problem, but some of the Spanish appeared a bit squeamish.  This is one of those sights that, in reality, is amazing regardless of how many pictures or films you have seen of it.  

Now we were treated to our experience of sales pressure Moroccan style.  We were taken to a large carpet emporium where they were determined to sell us something and treated to mint tea.  No matter how often we told them we had nowhere to put a carpet in our caravan, they would produce another one and extol its virtues.  Below left is Kate examining one of these carpets. 

After an exhausting morning, we lunched at the hotel, as this was the included meal because that night we were going to a show.  We spent the afternoon wandering the more modern part of town and realised that a lot in the old Medina was laid on for the tourists.  We were hassled scarcely at all and could have been in a slightly down market area of Paris, or anywhere else.  We planned to take in the hotel pool, but misjudged the sun which had gone by the time we returned, so we got ready for our show.

We were taken to a club down a windy dark alley in the Medina, the interior of which, shown above centre, was beautifully decorated in mosaics.  The English speakers had a table to themselves and enjoyed a traditional Moroccan meal, followed by entertainment starting with drummers, then a sort of juggler and tumblers.  Next thing Janusz and Bronwyn were dragged away to reappear ten minutes later in traditional costume and were then put through a 'wedding ceremony' shown above right.

Finally, we had the belly dancers.  The first, though competent, was getting on in years and was actually a comedy turn, co-opting tourists to learn the art.   Next followed a younger, though still mature, lady who was closer to what we expected but in the end turned out to be the fire-eater turn.  Finally, the lights dimmed and David's elderly Hi-8 cam-corder totally lost its focus - as did some of the other men.  This was the real thing and we were treated to a beautiful damsel in traditional attire doing the traditional belly dance.   Technology came to the rescue in the shape of Alan's digital cam-corder and we were able to change to 'night' mode and at least have a monochrome record of the event, shown above left. 

We returned to our hotel and prepared for an early start for Marrakech the next day.

Last updated:  18/03/01