If the font changes this is because I am copying and pasting from my journal. So here we go.
The short sea trip from Spain was good on a modern motor ferry - bit like the spirit of Tasmania.
MORROCCO IN GENERAL.
After a couple of days the things that initially struck me about this place seem of have been confirmed.
First there are the people walking. You can be in the back end of nowhere, miles from the last place, and there will be somebody walking along the road. They don't try to hitch a lift (Not the older ones anyway) they just keep plodding along minding their own business
Then there are the satellite dishes. Even the poorest places somehow seem to get themselves wired up to a satellite dish. If their houses don't have one, they go to a cafe that does.
What else about the place? Even though the first language is standard Arabic, for me it's nice to be able to speak French again. ATTENTION PAUL A French is the pointing finger with the funny accent!
MORROCCO CITY BY CITY.
FEZ.
Fez first day arrived late afternoon. The photo that opens this entry is the view of Fez from our hotel room. This another one for the Outside My Window album. Again, it is quite humbling to sit and look out over a city that is many hundreds of years old.
I couldn't help imagining this sight way back in the past before modern development. Imagine a caravan of camels passing through the magnificent city gate. Or an invading. army thundering up to the city walls and through the city gates being met by a hail of arrows and yelling. All the participants dressed in flowing robes with flashing slashing swords.
On a more mundane note, Julie and I went shopping in the local “hypermarche,” I achieved something wonderful as someone said to me, it takes a lot of talent to get lost in Arabic!“
Ud live. After the shopping trip it was time for dinner in the hotel restaurant. Imagine my surprise and delight when instead of having someone play the piano, they had an older gentleman playing the ud, the musical instrument that I am holding in the photo.
The ud is the Arabic lute, the grandfather of the Spanish guitar. The forerunner of the flamenco guitar. I was really happy because I wanted to hear some ud music live but I didn't know how I was going to fit it in. Little did I know that I would be hearing a lot more of it played in many different ways as time went by.
By tradition is is played with an eagle feather. But I remember thinking that if I hit my guitar strings that hard, they would break!
Fez. The second day opened with one of those lucky coincidences that can add to a holiday. First thing in the morning on our way to the Medina, a wedding took place in the square in front of the King's Palace, a favourite place for wedding photos.
The family were very open and accepting and let us horde of tourists take photos and share the happy occasion. The bride wore white, and looked terrified. The groom was pretty laid back and posed for the photos, once he had hung up his mobile phone! After this we all piled back on the coach to go to the Medina
The opening photo is an aerial view of the Medina or the ancient walled city of Fez. It was everything I had expected and hoped it would be. A labyrinth of tiny narrow twisting alley ways that were deliberately designed to get people lost. Even in the sunshine of Fez many of these alleyways remained dark and gloomy, and one can only imagine how terrifying they would be at night.
It was very strange to see the Garbo using a donkey! Because the streets are way too narrow for cars. The guide,who was born and raised in the Medina told me that many of the older people prefer no to leave the Medina, because they are part of a tight community that has everything it needs in there After walking through this maze of alleys, with its tiny shops an workshops, I can see how they could feel this way.
It is said that if you get lost in the Medina you stay lost. I'm sure this is true. But there was one strange contradiction. If you zoom in on the photo, you will see that the roofs of the ancient city, are covered with satellite scanners, and it seems that everyone in this seemingly closed society, has access to cable T.V. And the big wide world outside.
The day ended with a Moroccan meal with belly dancer. Although I didn't dance with this one (my turn came another time) at least I had the decency not to make a grab for the dancer as did a drunken Indian on this night. Don't know why, but for some reason this spoilt the evening (((a bit.
MARRKESH
From the first day in Marrakesh, I knew it would be one of my favourite cities. It is the city of four colours. Blue for the sky, green for the vegetation, white for the snow on the Atlas Mountains in winter, and ochre for the colour of the buildings, as shown by the walls of our hotel.
The buildings are coloured ochre, because the people who live here have found that it absorbs the morning rays of the sun, and it is also easier on the eyes. Because just about all these buildings are this colour, Marrakesh “looks like"what a Maroccan city "should” look like. We arrived later the aft on for a very special and enjoyable night to end the day. This was a horse and carriage ride to a restaurant where we saw a assortment of music thanks available in Morrocco, I “ made friends"with a green lady, or she made friends with me, I had a dance with a gorgeous belly dancer, and we all finished the evening with a walk round a very lively market.
After we unpacked it was time to go for a night out and get the horse and carriage!
This was our mode of transport to the restaurant. Of course there were jokes about the Queen, and such, but it was really quite a wild ride. After we left our quite leafy street, we turned into Main Street in the rush hour. The only road rule in Morrocco, are that there are no rules. Cars and motor bikes were cutting in jut inches in front of our horse, horns blaring. A full sized bus keep pulling up about a quarter of an inch behind our carriage, bull horn blaring if the horse didn't move fast enough. But neither the noise nor the bustle seemed to trouble any of the horses.
The green ladies (PARENTAL GUIDANCE ADVISED)
The Marrakesh “green” ladies. Strictly speaking, they were Beduin Arab ladies who were dressed in green
When we arrived they sang and danced a greeting for us with much ululating, a vocal noise that is easy to recognise, but hard to explain. Sort of like the female Arab equivalent of cheering.
Later in the evening they came around the tables in the restaurant and danced for us while we were eating. Whilst I was eating one of the people at my table told me to turn around and look. I did, and it was just at that moment that one of the green ladies was doing a sort of shake and shimmy dance directly behind my chair, my eye level being directly in line with her breasts. This was not an UNPLEASANT EXPERIENCE! but it did come as something of a shock!
As the evening progressed we were treated to all kinds of music and entertainment from the various ethnic groups that live in Marrakesh. There were the Arab dancers and some musicians from Ghana who managed to make a hell of a racket, but generate a lot of rhythm playing metal castanets. Their specIality was to make all this noise whilst spinning the tassel round on their hats. Of course numerous members of the audience had the hats plopped on their heads for them to have a try. Not o good idea to try and make a tassel spin round on your head if you have had a couple of drinks too many!
Eventually this very attractive young belly dancer came on, and invited various members of the audience to dance with her, I was one of the lucky ones. She had a grace and fluidity to her dancing, unlike the dancer the previous night who was probably a stripper and came across as a )bit trashy. Of course tonight all us old blokes got up and danced and made fools of ourselves. Yet this time, I felt it was something of an insult to this young lady, so I got up and shimmied a bit (just to keep in the spirit of the thing) then immediately sat down. Why would someone want to see a clumsy old oaf like me stuffing around, when they could be watching her.
Marrakesh markets. At the end of the evening we all walked across the Main market in Marrakesh to get to our coach.
The photo does not do justice to the activity there. At night, the market becomes a massive outdoor carnival/party. There are singers and dancers, endless food stalls, paddlers selling every kind of rubbish, and sellers of things like blue/white torches whose sole purpose is to be thrown up in the air and fall slowly down so that they look like a cross between flares and fireworks. This square during
the day is a centre for trade and activity, but at night, it's let the good times roll!
Second day Marrakesh Palais de la Bahia dopey moroccan cop nice coffee. Lots of shoe and hat shopping. Beautiful shoe present.
This was one of the best, if not the best day of the holiday so far. We saw a beautiful but small moorish Palace, (which i cant find a photo of t the moment) found a delightful coffee shop, got lost on the way back and ask a Morrocan policeman for directions which were wrong! (It was HIS French not mine!, and experienced first hand, the generosity of the Moroccan people.
Marrakesh second day nice coffee shop.
After breakfast we went for a little stroll down a beautiful wide boulevard and found a homely but elegant coffee shop for coffee. With the bright morning sunshine shining on the ochre buildings, the coffee served in the French manner, and the sound of laughter and happy chatter in the French language, no wonder the French colonialists had such a happy time here.
Marrakesh second day Christina's shoes.
Julie has written all about this on the blog. The older lady on the right was the lady who gave away the shoes. The younger lady was her daughter.
I enjoyed being “The Interpreter?!” Because it was so nice to use the language for something other than getting directions and finding things in Supermarkets.
After the present had been given, and names and addresses had been exchanged, it was time for us to say goodbye. I advised Christina that a polite peck on each cheek would be appropriate. But she was so overcome by it all, it ended up as a bear-hug!
CASABLANCA
Casablanca. You've seen the movie, and heard Charles Boyer in the thick French accent say loaded with sexual innuendo, “Let me take you to the Casbah!” So the first words that immediately spring to mind when you hear the name Casablanca are: mystery, adventure, romance, right? … Wrong!! For me the word that best describes the real Casablanca, is contradiction.
Within the first ninety seconds of arriving in the place you know that this is going to be place of extremes. After another couple of minutes you know that this is true.
I've never been to Rio de Janiero, but I wouldn't mind betting that Casablanca is its African equivalent. Like all cities where the streets are supposed to be paved with gold Casablanca seems to have the best with the worst. It is a place that is better described with pictures than with words so my blog entry is the best place for this. Sufficient to say that I have been in Casablanca for about half a day, and for me that is enough. We are leaving for Rabat and Tangier first thing in the morning.
I'll add captions to some of the photos. For some of them you might like to just look at the photos and draw your own conclusions. Ancient building and morn technology, same age, different cultures.
Driving into Casablanca you see the beach "shack" of the Prince of Saudi Arabia, which he occasionally uses. It covers acres of prime beach front land, and is so big, it has its own private palace, mosque, and minnerete. It was hard to take a photo of it because it was hidden by a high wall and trees. The less tha 100 meters down road THERE IS A SLUM!
Then, Just another 100 meters or so you see this. The Grand Mosque built by one of the Morrocan Kings. Note the young Arabic girl using a modern mobile phone.
Then less than a hundred meters down the same road there is ANOTHER SLUM!
It reminds me of when an Australian reporter went to file a story on a meeting of African Presidents in a third world African country. The T.V. Cameras showed the multi million dollar congress hall glistening in all it's modern majesty behind the steady convey of shiny black Mrrcedes pulling up in front of it. He looked round the corner, and there were people living in whatever they could, beside open sewers. The contrast was beyond belief. This scene was not as bad as that, but a clear case of the very rich, and the very poor.
Humphrey Bogart's "Rick's American Bar" in the film Casablanca now looks like this
With a menu and prices to match. And instead of white jacketed Humphrey to meet you at the door, this very fit and capable "doorman" awaits you at the door and won't let you in until after six pm.
Here are a couple of other photos that show Casablanca as a melting pot and place of contradiction.
LAST DAY IN MORROCCO = RABAT, ASSALAH? (A beach suburb of Rabat) and TANGIER?
Rabat doesn't seem to have that much going for it except for:
It is the tomb of one of the Kings = a sort of Morrocan Westminster Abbey
It is the future site for a massive marina development (see cleared land in photo)
It seems to be the only place in the country where you can photograph anyone in any sort of uniform= the soldiers in ceremonial uniform.
Apart from that I just photographed a couple of things that appealed to me:
A little boy having his photo taken with the soldiers. This used to happen to me when as a child I was taken up to London to have my photo taken with the Gaurdsmen.
And don't you just love a Morrocan girl dressed in traditional kaftan of blue, but who also wears blue denim and chews gum!
ASSALAH The beach suburb
Just a quant little beach suburb. Nothing flash. The photos were chosen so that you could join us for a walk along the beach front and get some of its character.
A couple of things that took my eye:
The Customs and border protection post .... Complete with washing line on the roof.
Schools in for the afternoon for the local high school kids after lunch. Like Aussie kids who live in a Beach suburb some actually make it to school, some only as far as the beach!
CAPE SOMETHING OR OTHER ='where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Mediterranean Sea.
TANGIERS
A fascinating place where from after the Second World War until 1957 when it was integrated into Morocco it was divided into seven separated into international zones, English, French Italian American etc. Bit of a hassle when you just crossed the road into another zone because you had to have your passport stamped and your currency changed. Remember in those days the Euro did not exist.
The following photo of Tangier was taken from a very expensive Bel Aire Rodeo drive type location
In the highland of Tangier. Where various princes and millionaires of various Arabic and Eastern states have private residences and palaces that seem to range over. Couple Oz squill ion acres of prime real estate..... High security gates and guards included!
Because we spend so little time here a Google image search will have to do to show the differnt parts of Tangiers
One sad part of Tangiers life. Every now and again there is a thumping sound from under the coach, when the coach is slowing down or stationary. This is the sound of young men trying to climb under the coach so that they can be illegal immigrants into Spain and Europe. Usually they are high on hashish to give them courage.
When we leave tomorrow, by law we will have to get off the coach while it is being searched and scanned for illegals. If the scanner doesn't work, we will have to wait around while the whole coach is unloaded, manually searched, and reloaded, and this is one of the very few times when a "small donation" to the respective official doesn't work.
So that's Morocco! I hope you have enjoyed this blog and it wasn't too long or boring.
Was coming to Morocco worth the effort? Yes it was.
Would I come again.? I don't know about Jule but for me only Marrakesh and Tangier.
Next blog from Spain. Talk to you then.
Wow! Fantastic update and photos John. I think the shot of Julie (not you this time) in front of the wedding party should be a framed one - gorgeous. What an amazing time you are having. Well done for the blog updates, I can guarantee you will treasure them in years to come.
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