Arabian Nights

It’s somewhat difficult to summarize my journey to Morocco. To put it simply, it was a thrilling and an eye-opening weekend.

After a quick hop, skip, and a ferry ride from Tarifa Spain, through the Straight of Gibraltar to Tangiers Africa, I found myself in Northern Morocco, surrounded by the striking and expansive Rif Mountains on Friday night.

From the ferry we went straight to the hotel for a traditional Moroccan feast. Our table was piled high with round chewy rolls, a large salad with beets, eggs, corn, tomato, carrots and cucumber. In the center was the pièce de résistance, a mountain of couscous with a plethora of vegetables. Following dinner a Berber man gave a presentation on spices and apothecaries in Morocco, explaining various products that can heal any ailment. 

Saturday morning we hopped on the bus and drove through town after little town. The locals glared up at us through our tinted windows, while young kids ran behind our bus, even jumping on the back at times.

We went on a short camel ride on one of the beaches in Tangiers overlooking the point at which the Mediterranean Sea meets the Atlantic Ocean. Then we explored the Caves of Hercules.We stopped in a town called Asilah for lunch at what appeared to be a rundown deserted building, but once inside we were transported back into time. We sat low to the ground on pillows, dining in an intricately tiled room with a domed ceiling. 

We spent the rest of the afternoon shopping and bargaining with the shop owners in the Medina (central part of the city enclosed by walls) of Asilah. The vendors were quite aggressive, but in the end I bought a scarf, and a little leather camel for half the dirham (Moroccan currency) of the original asking price. Before we left the city, we sipped on fresh, sweet mint tea as the call of prayer sung out over all of Asilah.

On Sunday we drove to see the cities of Tetouan and Chefchaouen. Although it was a long bus ride I was able to gaze out the window at the panoramic view of the Rif and Atlas Mountains, while swapping stories with friends I was reunited with from orientation. 

My favorite city was Chefchaouen also known as "the blue city,” situated in a valley between two mountains, with a waterfall running through. This clean, and potable water is quite miraculous, since we were advised not to drink the any tap water in Morocco, not even while brushing our teeth. According to our tour guide the houses in Chefchaouen are freshly painted every 6 months with contrasting variations of blue, and bright white in order to ward of flies. 

There was something very mysterious and enchanting about Chefchaouen, it seemed to really represented the heart of Moroccan culture. The blue houses were striking; around every corner was a picture perfect sight.

For some reason, I imagined Morocco to be desolate, arid, and barren, but this could not be further from the truth; I seriously underestimated the beauty of Morocco. The landscape is a bit surreal, one moment we were driving along the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, and the next moment we were in the lush mountains. Nevertheless after two very full days I have to say that I could not be happier to be safely back home in Sevilla.