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• Chefchouen (this page) [added January 3, 2007] • About Rabat [added February 23, 2007 • Some Thoughts on Traveling in Morocco [added February 23, 2007 • About Marrakech [added February 23, 2007 • Casablanca Cabbies [added February 23, 2007 |
• Chefchouen Photos [added January 7, 2007] • Volubilis Photos [added January 7, 2007] • Rabat Photos [added January 7, 2007] • Essaouira Photos [added January 10, 2007] • Marrakech Photos [added January 10, 2007] • Casablanca Photos [added January 12, 2007] |
Larger map of Morocco
Even larger map of Morocco
23 November 2006
Chefchouen, Morocco
We made our way out of Europe yesterday, arriving in Ceuta, a Spanish territory in North Africa, around 9 p.m. When we set out from Granada yesterday, we hoped to get to Morocco and we did, but what an adventure it was! We had hoped to leave Granada around 9 a.m., but we got tied up in an errand and left around 2 p.m., which meant we got to the port of Algeciras around 6:30. While on the train, we saw a guy talking to three Japanese girls about where they were going. By his accent, we guessed he was Brazilian, and he turned out to be from Liza's home city of Belo Horizonte. When we were arriving in Algeciras, we started talking to Angelo, the Mineiro, and the three Japanese girls. Angelo was going to Morocco, with the plan of getting to Chefchouen, but unsure how far he'd actually get. The Japanese girls were set on going to Marrakech. It turns out they spoke very little English, and no Spanish, Arabic or French. Hopefully they made it to Marrakech safe and sound, and enjoyed their trip.
We were planning on going from Algeciras to Tangiers, but Angelo said he'd heard several times that Tangiers was not a very pleasant entry-point. We'd read some warnings about the hassle in Tangiers, as well, and decided to join up with Angelo and go to Ceuta instead, and from there enter Morocco and make our way to Chouen. We got to Ceuta no problem, and caught the bus to the Moroccan border. At this point, things got a little more complicated...
At first, we walked out of Spanish territory without so much as a word from anyone. Between Ceuta and Morocco there are 100 meters or so of a sort of wasteland. In this space, there were hundreds of people in the act of smuggling something or other, with a few police hanging around casually observing the chaos. We walked through this garbage-littered DMZ, and were eventually approached by a number of young men trying to give us entrance forms and saying they worked for the police. Always the smart travelers, we refused their offers and went directly to the border police. However, the border police ignored us in turn, and would only talk to us when we were with the young men with their forms. Eventually, we reluctantly handed over our passports and watched these guys try to fill the forms out. They managed, and then wanted a tip for their help. We were forced to give up one Euro -- apparently not enough, because the run-around really began then! The border guard told us we had to return to the Spanish side to get exit stamps in our passports. We went back to the Spanish side and they said no stamp was needed. Finally we convinced them to give us the stamps, and we crossed the no-man's land for a third time. Then, the waiting game began. The guard kept telling us, “espere.” So we waited. A tour bus came through, and he stamped all the passengers' passports, then came to us and said, “espere.” The other guards were all arguing, apparently about whether or not Brazilians were rich, and how much of a bribe could be expected. People would tell us to bribe the office and then we could go. We waited more. They would point us in one direction, then the other. It was a hugely stressful affair. After two hours of arguing, waiting, and smiling, we finally got our stamps. The guard was really angry about having to let us through, but it seems his superior forced him to. Judging by the force he employed in stamping our documents, it was a truly bitter task for him.
Finally we were in Morocco, but there were no buses to take us to Chouen. We approached the taxi stand, tried to bargain, and had to pay more for the fare than we wanted. Eventually, though, we bargained to a price that would take us all the way to Chouen for a somewhat reasonable price.
Our driver's name was Nassir. Along the way, he stopped for tobacco, and then showed us how he could roll a cigarette while driving with no hands on a mountain road! As he performed this feat, he told us about his last accident on the same road, four years earlier. Nassir was cool, though, and tried to help us learn a little Moroccan Arabic on the way. We ended up sharing a room with Angelo that night, but the next morning moved over to a cheaper hotel, where we have our own room, and everyone sits around smoking all day in the lounge.
We spent Thanksgiving in Chefchouen, and while we didn't have turkey or Aunt Rosalie's Famous Broccoli, we did have a Moroccan feast, which included couscous, meatballs, chicken, vegetables, and one of the best salads we've ever tried. We also met a really cool couple: Rafael from Barcelona and Evelyn from Mexico City. The city is beautiful, full of narrow streets and blue walls, with mountain views all around. Also, it's very clear that we've left Europe behind. Hopefully, it's the beginning of a great adventure!