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| I decided to head into the mountains to escape the heat
of the city. After haggling for a ride (haggling is an everyday experience),
I went out to Setti Fatma in the Ourika Valley to visit a waterfall. After
waving off many prospective tour guides, I walked the trail to the
waterfall. It was very cold and refreshing. On the way back down, I ran into
a few young Moroccan guys, who wanted to walk and talk
along with me. I was very wary at first, thinking that they would say they
were my tour guide and ask for money. After a while, they must have sensed
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| wariness, because one
of them said that they weren't trying to be a tour guide. So, with that out
of the way, we walked along the river up the valley. After a while, we
rounded a bend in the valley and stumbled on the most beautiful vista I've
ever seen. A "road" made of large rocks piled together winded its way
alongside the river. A man walked his donkey loaded with produce. On the
other side of the river, a woman loaded with straw picked her way along the
rocks. Ahead, we could see a tiny village made of mud huts cut into the side
of a mountain. Further ahead, we could see the snow-covered peaks of the
High Atlas mountains. I felt like I was transported into the Himalayas. It
would have made a perfect picture, BUT I WAS OUT OF FILM!!!!! I vowed to
return to that place someday. |
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| My last night, I had the best meal of my trip
from these bunch of guys in the town square. I was so impressed that I
started to help the guys out and bring in people to eat a fantastic meal.
The first person I accosted happened to be a guy that I met in Lagos a few
weeks before. Small world. We hung out for the evening before I went to the
train station to get my night train back to Tangiers. I really wished I were
staying longer. |
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| As I walked to the train, I was surprised by
people banging on the window of the train. I looked up and saw the very same
people who I hung out with on the train ride down! I got myself settled and
brought my drum back to visit with my Moroccan friends. We sang (well, they
sang. I just clapped my hands) and laughed and had a great time. The
Moroccans sure know how to have a good time - even without alcohol!
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I went to bed and awoke in Tangiers. On the
ferry ride back to Spain, I met several Canadians and Australians who were
also on the same train. They said that they couldn't sleep because someone
was playing a drum and lots of people were singing into the night. I
sheepishly showed them the drum that was the cause of all the noise.
Morocco was such an amazing place. It doesn't
deserve its dodgy reputation. I strongly suggest that anyone go there if
they have the chance. To help any prospective travelers thinking about going
to Morocco from Spain, click here for tips and information that will greatly
ease your time in Morocco. |
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This guy was better at the drum than I could ever hope to
be. |
I took my turn at the drum, complete with fez. |
Next stop, Monkey Island...I mean, Gibraltar.
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