gibraltar to
Morocco
September / October 2019
We spent a just over a week in La Linea, Spain before going to Gibraltar to clear out of the EU. We made new friends. Did a lot of socializing and quite a bit of provisioning for long life foods for the Atlantic crossing.
But, the preferred weather window to the Canaries was closing, so we plotted a course for Tangier, Morocco. A 30 mile run. First attempt aborted due to dense fog. Second attempt a go, though heavy clouds hung thickly overhead. We had good forward visibility of 5+ miles. The top of the Rock shrouded as was the African coast. Departing with the 8:30 opening of marina channel, we headed south and west through the Straits of Gibraltar noted as one of the busiest in the world. An average of 120,000 ships pass though each year according to ASG Straights of Gibraltar Shipping.
Dolphins and freighters, Ferries and fishing trawlers kept us busy for the first few hours as we hugged the Spanish coast. 8 miles past Tarifa, Spain we crossed the shipping lanes safely, conversing with ships and consulting AIS as to their speed, directed and proximity. The closer we got to Tangier, Morocco the thicker the fog; less than 1/4 mile of visibility.
A symphony of fog horns calling out to each other, like mating calls through the mist. The crew of Inishnee was all eyes and ears trying to decipher their origins. A hour plus of high anxiety. The wake of a fast ferry tossed us around passing less than a quarter mile to port though no visual contact was made. The chart plotter indicated we were at the harbor mouth when the first glimpse of Africa filtered through the dissipating fog bank. 
We were instructed to tie to the wharf and wait for customs to meet us. The shore party officials took many photos of us; ship and crew. After a ship inspection and completed paper work we were assigned a berth. 
Shortly after securing the boat, a marina official approached Jim with a warning about not flying the Moroccan flag, a steep (500euro) fine. He said the police send him. Jim pointed to our courtesy Moroccan flag flying on the starboard spreader… The man acknowledged it and left. We later confirmed that it is an offense to not fly the Moroccan flag and keenly enforced….
Tangier
We spent 1 full day in Tangier. Exchanging cruising guides with fellow cruisers and walking the medina. The village and city are relatively clean. The locals poor but appear content… And happy to relieve you of a few Dirham (MAD); 1 MAD = .10 US… an easy conversion. The prominent language is French.
Rabat
Departing Tangier was similar to arriving. A stop at the customs dock. Lots of photos. And a visit from the officials who poked around, opening cabinets and peeked in bins before declaring that we were free to depart.
Officials instructed us to remain on the boat. We were soon boarded by various suits and ties, some with weapons. Their main concern, again as in Tangier, was did we have a drone (no) or firearms (no)… The clearance was very efficient and formal. A bit timely. Then we were directed to our berth… With a very short pier and no end cleats… geez! After a lot of finagling, we were secure. Over the next several days cruising boats came and departed daily. The marina staff juggling boats in and out of slips. 
Lucia and Andrew aboard Alba arrived the same afternoon we did. The four of us did a fair bit of socializing… we ate in the medina and walked the alleys. Discovered hidden treasures: zebra and wild dog pelts (hyena), snake skins twice as long as Jim. Beautiful leather slippers and shoes, colorful scarves and stunning Djellabas, traditional robes (unisex) for day wear and Kaftans (a fancier version for women)…. 
Marrakech…
Jim and Kathy decided this would be a good opportunity to visit inland and do some touring. So,… All on board the Marrakech Express! First class with air conditioning. 3 1/2 hours. The heat rising steadily as we sped along turning inland at Casablanca.
We choose our lodgings at Riad La Haylana. Riads were once the homes for the wealthier inhabitants of Morocco. Built inside the medina’s. Riad’s were multi floored homes with interior open courtyards, allowing the women of the house privacy. The bedrooms and living spaces circle the courtyard on each level, opening into the inner garden area. The roof tops are open air with canvas awnings, used for sleeping, lounging or eating, but walled, again for privacy. 
As modernization took hold, these stately homes were often abandoned, some for many years, the owners moving into newer, modern homes with electricity, plumbing etc. With the tourism boom, these homes are now being converted into guest homes, like a B&B. They have been renovated, adding electricity, indoor plumbing and air-conditioning units; but retain their charm with small rooms, unique spaces and personalized services. They’re very quite, often located down secluded alleys away from the bustling market streets. Most include a simple but sufficient local breakfast. Upon entering a Riad, home, or business, you are often given a complimentary cup of tea…usually mint, choice sweet or plain. 
Exploring the medina was fantastic. A mishmash of locals, tourists, hawkers, and laborers. Donkeys and scooters. Snake charmers and street performers. And all manner of things to buy. Foods, souvenirs, clothes, dry goods etc. The medina in the larger cities are used mainly for the tourist trade. The thousands of stalls selling goods for every price range. The local market lies just outside of the walled medina. Fewer tourists. Live chickens for purchase. Hanks of beef, lamb, goat or sheep, cut to order. Eggs. Fresh breads. All the necessary items for daily living.
Morocco is home to a very unique and beautiful tree; Thuya (Araar), latin for ‘the tree of life’. It’s only found in morocco, a type of evergreen. The leaves and oil have some medicinal value. It’s a hardwood and very aromatic. The wood is used by artisans; carved, cut and polished into fantastic works of art. The wood is harvested, cured and transformed into hundreds of different products, mostly for the tourist trade. Bowls, ‘magic’ boxes, trays and toys, just a few of the many options… Inishnee is now in possession of quite a few extraordinary pieces!
We sampled a number of the local dishes, Tajine’s and couscous (the national dish). Khobz (local bread). Brochettes (kebabs). Briwat or Briouats (sweets, deep fried filo pastry filled with almonds). Olives; green, black, Kalamata…
and Pastilla or B’ astillia ! Kathy’s favorite… A surprising dish; cooked, shredded chicken; (originally squab or pigeon) seasoned with cinnamon, ginger, saffron, turmeric, coriander… and sugar! add eggs and scramble… place in a filo type shell called warka. Top with toasted ground almonds. Surround and sealed inside the warka and baked… served with a dusting of cinnamon and sugar… the combination of savory and a hint a sweet is unexpected and delightful! Variations include fish or vegetables…
Sahara Touring and camel (Dromedary*) riding…*one hump and desert dwellers.
We signed up for 3 day 2 night tour to the Sahara Desert! A one day delay due to ‘camel fever’… tummy trouble etc…
We were picked up promptly at 7:30 am outside the medina walls; no autos allowed inside… a new van; air-conditioned and first in so we had our pick of seats! It’s a loong, HOT ride to the Sahara from here. Then, we were transferred to the ‘budget’ van that would be our real ride… oh well! Now, we were the last in… We were offered seats in the front with the driver, Karime… by the first rest stop we decided to move aft for more leg room and conversation (Karime was quite tight lipped) and join the 9 other riders, all under 30 and on a budget ….… So, we settled in near the back. Lots of bottled water, as recommended and a few snacks. 
The day worn on; the road, temperature and landscape steadily climbing. Valleys and gorges. Rivers and deserts…and the Tizi N Tichka and Hight Atlas Mountains. All backdropped with the burnt red rock of Morocco.
We were now in the heart of Berber territory… Berber’s historically were known as Amazigh’s (i-Mazigh-en) … an ethnolinguistic group with their own language and customs inhabiting the Sahara regions of Morocco.
Early afternoon and the heat of the day, the driver stopped in a village. We would be picking up our guide Mostafa here. Soft spoken. Knowledgable. English speaking. On his arrival we continued on to the first of 2 Kasbahs (fortress) visits.
A Kasbah refers to multiple buildings or structures situated behind high fortress walls, usually no windows. The leader of the area would generally reside inside the walls.
We made a quick stop at one of the Kasbah ‘homes’ now a small artist studio with a young Maffoud in residence. He demonstrated the local ‘magic fire’ painting technique. Treads of saffron (sigma and styles from a crocus flower) are soaked to release their pigment, then painted and layered on white paper. A nearly invisible on the sheet, building the pigment layer by layer. When satisfied with the application, the paper is thrusted under a torch and moved vigorously back and forth. The various layers of saffron painted designs slowly emerge to reveal the artist’s secret…Browns, yellows and golds… Desert, camels, palm trees offset with figures of indigo blue, the traditional color / dye of the berber people… For a small fee, $1.50 and up these special little images can be purchased….
This was followed by a quick visit to another older Kasbah under heavy renovation; plumbing, electrical water etc… This Kasbah housed numerous families and businesses.
Our guide departed, each tourist paying the requested 20 Dirham per person for his services… $2.00! for several hours of work…
We still had a few more hours on the road before our nights lodging in a Berber village, so we got back on the road again… Kamire dropped Jim and Kathy at their ‘hotel’ just as the sun was setting…he stopped the van and said ‘you, out!’ so we did. The others in our group would be lodging farther up the road at another venue.
We were greeted at the berber hotel with a welcome tea before being taken to our room… Quite adequate, we had opted for the premium air-conditioning unit for a few dirhams more… Dinner followed, salad, tajine, bread and fruit, a new batch of friends… then horizontal and sleep…
We were met early the next day by our ‘tribe’. We retraced our tracks a bit back through the Rose Valley and continued on toward the days itinerary… Our new guide Jamil, hopped in the van and we continued on… Jamil was full of energy and passion
Our first adventure was a walk along and through a dry’ish river bed. After the rains, the locals plant various crops in the moist, nutrient rich soil. Potatoes and corn. Grapes and onions. Trees for nuts, apples, olives and other stone fruits grow further up the banks. Alfalfa, grasses and grains are grown for livestock. Nearly all hand sown and harvested. 
Our walk through and along the river bed was shaded and comfortable.
We were introduced to two local women who were busy ‘sawing’ grasses for their animals. Fatima allowed us to try our hand at the task (our donkeys would have been quite skinny waiting for us to cut and collect enough for their needs). She continued to humor us and allowed us to try on her shawl and pose for photos. Jamil relayed our questions to Fatima in Berber then recited her explanations. She explained that her face tattoo’s symbolized her marital status: the vertical tattoo on her chin indicated she was married. The dots either side of this represent the number of children… If a women was widowed she could remarry or if she ‘was done with all that’ she would get an addition tattoo on her forehead meaning ‘I have no intention of marrying again’… Fatima was married at hte age of 15 and now 4 children; ages 5 - 25…. She was kind enough to allow photos of her with Kathy, Jim and Jamil …
Continuing on, we crossed the river, not much more than a creek; just enough to water a few donkeys or do the laundry. And, it was indeed laundry day for several local women. The younger girls from our group began snapping photos without seeking permission, which infuriated the women. One of them bending over, snatching up a big rock ready to hurl it at them and Jamil while giving them an earfull! Probably best we knew no Berber at that point… Jamil was able to diffuse the situation and we walked on, the washer women continuing to scold the group as we passed……
We then returned to the local village and walked around, Jamil pointing our things of interest. Tourism is still a new concept here. Luckily, Jamil was able to find a carpet sales man! … who was happy to get us a ‘tour’ of his carpet factory; a ruse for selling rugs. The proprietor was informative on the various methods and techniques for each type of rug and its origins. One by one, at least a dozen were unrolled and displayed on the floor like a patchwork quilt, in front of us. All for sale, as well as silver jewelry and many odd trinkets. We all took a pass.
Returning to the van, we were driven to a Berber family compound / restaurant for lunch. The compound was walled and gated. The views were expansive from the primitive roof top, overlooking the river valley. The multi-generational family living and working within. Gardens for produce. Animal paddocks. A toilet / bath house. A kitchen house for cooking and several other building for the families living purposes. We ate in a large dinning room that could accommodate around 50 diners at different table groups… A huge feast, family style. Moroccan salad (diced cucumbers, tomatoes and onions), chicken kebobs hot off the open fire. Tagine (again) the national dish of Morocco… very tasty and far too much for our group or 11. Costing 100 dirhams per request per person. $10 US…
We left Jamil soon after, we still had a lot more miles to cover before the main event!
On and on we drove… Hotter and drier outside and in… the fight continued over the use of the aircon … Kamire still reluctant to use it for any length of time…
Villages and small towns whizzing by the windows. All sorts of modes of transportation… foot: human, horse or donkey. Wheels of 2 - 8; pedal power or motorized… 
We stopped one last time for water (iced!) and the recommended Tuareg Desert Veil (head / face scarf)… Dyed dozens of hues and colors. Multiple sizes with optional embellishments; fringe, beads, patterns etc… prices from 30 dirham, $3 …. (They’ll make great gifts!)
Instructions were given on how to knot, twist and wrap so it could used as a face cover for wind or sand or draped for sun protection… EVERYONE bought at least one….
Equipped with our new fashion wardrobe accessories and weighted down with water… we continued on…
Finally, we arrived at the staging area! Camels, camels and more camels… and tourists! Lots of tourists, all sporting their Tuareg scarves and eager to meet their camel; dromedary !
Camel train after camel train continued into the dessert, their turbaned riders sitting high and plodding off into the sunset (quite literally), as we awaited our instructions and camels…
Most our group was sent off… only 5 left… hmmm ? now, all the camels were gone… Not a single one left… just us 5 gringos and our driver (still not talking, at least not to us) and the head camel man… The 3 girls we were with were having difficulty proving they had a reservation (really? how the heck did they get this far without one?)…
Our driver finally said to us… ‘get in car’. (we did) ‘buckle up!’ (we did!) and we were off… destination unknown but away from the camel paddocks and the Sahara… we bounced and bumped and roared across the desert, then, hit the main road and went as fast as the driver could manage…. skirting the dunes to our left… where? as yet, unknown to us… The low fuel light glowing on the dashboard… 10 minutes, still driving like a bat out of h$!! …. through towns, taking corners on two wheels (kidding!)…
Wanting some claiification… Jim asked: where are we going? Jamil: ‘other hotel’… Kathy ‘grrrr!’ … 15 minutes; still speeding down the now deserted road… 20 minutes… the sun now obscured by clouds but just above the horizon…
We pull into a ‘hotel’… WTF! ? we are about to explode on the driver but… he just needs directions, gets them, and we cross the highway where 5 camels are waiting!!!! Why! the company ran our of camels but they made a few calls and found us a ‘ride”…
We hopped out and met our camel driver, Hassan. A pleasant young man in his early 20’s… and, he spoke decent english too! He helped us climb on our ride and told us to hold tight as we were launched up and forward by the camels unique maneuvering to get to a standing position… Finally, we were on our way! Just Jim, Kathy, Hassan and our 5 dromedaries. A private tour. Hassan, on foot, leading the camels into the desert with us trailing behind. The setting sun painting the rust red dunes; saffron yellow, veiled beige, ruddy, flaming, feverish reds…. Dusk upon us, then night fall. The stars slowly piecing through the deep blue blanket above. The soft heat of the dunes drifting skyward.
The glimmer of camp lights shivering in the distance. A quiet and peacefulness descending over us and the dessert as we plodded on. The trail obscured in the darkness…
An hour later, in camp, our tender derrieres were ready to dismount. Hassan showed us our accommodations, a spacious (hot) private tent and comfortable bed. Shower house close by. A few other guests milling around. A generator softly rumbling in the distance, suppling power. A welcome tea with cookie were offered and accepted. Dinner was served family style, bread, pasta, and potatoes… Kebabs and Tajine... again.
Dinner was followed by a campfire, drumming and song. Our camp group happy to sing along as well as contribute to the drumming. The Milky-way luminescent overhead… A gentle breeze wafting through. Freshly showered and quite content we went to bed…
Fortunately the construction of tent kept the dust and sand from entering, however, it also kept the cool breezes out too. We tossed and turned. Rehydrated and dripped… it was great!
Up at 5:30 am. Packed up our belongings. Breakfast by candle light (one) because the generator wouldn’t start. And back on the trail by 6am to catch the rising sun.
Now, a caravan of 16 travelers (tourists), 4 guides (they walk and lead the camels). 4 groups steadily making our way in the dusky light. At a designated location, we dismounted and climbed a dune to see the sun creep up and greet the day. The colors of the dunes ever changing.
Then, the signal for us to return and mount up! Several of the riders opting to walk the remaining distance, there ‘bums’ a bit too tender… Jim and Kathy continued the ride aloft. Hasan, led us off and way from the group for a perfect photo op… His camels well mannered and trained walked on while he circled us snapping pictures and filming videos… A whistle brought the camels to a halt, he recovered the lead line and we returned to the caravan…
What a fantastic experience!
We met up with our tribe for the long, hot ride home. 10+ hours. Rest breaks and lunch. The aircon feud still going on. Kamire agreed to open more windows, the crew in the back of the van finally feeling some relief… but, the gals nearest the windows didn’t care to the breeze, so they shut the windows! so, the remainder of the ride was sweltering…. perfect timing for Kathy to get ‘camel fever’…
Kamire thankfully drove us to our hotel after leaving the others at the medina walls. We were told our hotel may require a marriage license at checkin (which we didn’t have with) but were processed and given a lovely room on the 6th floor… Great views. Air-conditioning. Breakfast included. None of which Kathy could appreciate. However, the porcelain ‘god’ was anointed numerous times… aaaa
Jim said the breakfast was nice as was the pool… CHeck out at noon. Kathy pulled herself together enough to be presentable and we headed for the train station and Rabat… WHy! WHy did we not book our tickets in advance???? First class was sold out, second class would have to do. Comfortable but no air… temps hovering around 100f…. 3 1/2 hot hours later, we stepped off the train and into the cool ocean breezes of the capital city… A taxi ride home.
The ‘camel fever’ (our silly name) came and went quickly, a 24 hour bug. All was well on Inishnee.
We shared dinners and conversation with Lucia and Andrew. No tourist stalls here. The real deal. Exploring the old medina of Sale which is the actual location of the marina… lying on the opposite side of the river from Rabat… connected via abridge. Lucia did some research and learned that the marina was built because of President of Morocco. In is younger days we enjoyed the sea and ocean sports. As an adult he decided to he would like to encourage foreigners to visit, especially cruisers…. voila! When you are King… you can make things happen…
We wander the streets and alleys. Strolled by the cemetery located at the sea shore an on to the fish market located on the banks of the jetties at the harbor mouth. The fishermen returning from the sea with tubs of catch, heaving them ashore to be sold…One stall had a hefty tuna, nearly as large than an average human… The fog rolled in and swallowed the scene… the beach hidden on mist.
A few hours later, 6 cruising boats, converged at the river mouth and were escorted up the river on an ebbing tide with a substantial current… The fog having just lifted! Each assigned a berth after the formalities. It’s time for another cruisers gathering!
Kathy made arrangements with the marina to use on office space for the cruisers to gather for a meet and greet. The marina was incredibly hospitable, not only providing a large air-conditioned meeting room complete with boardroom table and chairs. They also served complimentary tea and water… And, distributed hats embroidered with the marina insignia !
We had a very productive meeting, introducing each other and sharing a bit of our ‘stories’… 28 cruisers representing several nations! We all commented on our great relief to finally be meeting other cruisers and enjoying the company. The Mediterranean is great for cruising but most of us found no sense of community and ew gatherings or social events…
Many thanks to Mr. Amine Benmimoun, Directeur de la Marina Bouregreg, for his graciousness support and hospitably!
We decided to visit a Hammam. A public bath. We scouted out a few options and decided on Hammam Marassa in Rabat. Used by the locals buy accommodating to westerns. Several options: Bring your own stuff (soap, scrub mit, bucket etc) and have your companion scrub your back etc 20 dirham ($2) … for70 -90 dirham an attendant scrubs you… up to GOLD treatment for 250 ($25) for all the bells and whistles…We opted for the basic scrub with and attendant… Jim, Kathy, Lucia, Andrew and Linda all set off… A bit of apprehension but excited!
On arrival, we decided on our ‘treatments’, paid and split up; men and women use separate baths. … Inside it was nice an warm, humid from the constant flow of water. There are several rooms beginning with the changing room. You remove all your clothes, underwear are optional… Then, waited for instructions because it was our first time… We were quite thankful for Lucia being able to speak the language and interpret what was being asked / told… I (Kathy) was quite surprised at how natural it felt even though most of the women were completely or nearly naked, chatting, laughing going about their business. We were then instructed (sign language) to follow someone to the last room, which is the hottest… and to bring our scrub cloth, soap etc. 
The rest of the communication was done with pointy, gestures and pulling because we were somewhat separated from Lucia… No worries! The attendants knew there job and all we had to do was follow along… and, by looking around you could see the various stages of the ‘scrubbing’ process…
Buckets and buckets of to hot warn water were filled for each person…we were doused with fresh water then completely covered with a henna paste (it opens the pores?), earthly and yellow brown! After 10 or so minutes you are doused again repeatedly with fresh water to remove the henna. Then, the real reason you go… for the scrub! Your attendant puts on your scrub mitt and starts scrubbing… really hard… everywhere! Your dead skin rolls and gobs up and clusters all over you… it was quite disconcerting seeing all the ‘stuff’ that was being rubbed off… this goes on for 20-30 minutes… You sit, you lay you lean… you do as you’re told… and it feels awful and great all at the same time… When you are throughly roughed up, pink and tingling… we were doused again and again to remove the sludge from our skin…
It was the most wonderful, exciting and satisfying experience! We all agreed it was fantastic and a definite repeat…
The group had prearranged to meet next door at a cafe for tea… all of us pretty high on adrenalin… the guys had a similar experience, though without an interpreter a bit more confusing. The major difference was that the guys were given a much rougher scrub mitts than us ladies!
Our final day in Morocco… prepping the boat, saying goodbye’s so long… shopping for produce and long-life bread… we are heading to the Canaries from here… 4 days if all goes well!
What a great experience we have had…
Morocco, you will be remembered fondly!
