While touring southern Morocco, we arrive at a new place, either by train or by bus, and are immediately accosted by many of the local youth. They hand you “gifts” only later to request dirham in return. I try to hand back their present to me, and they refuse. I say no thank you and they shrug. I smile and they smile. With no other option I motion the gift in their direction, and then place the gift neatly on a nearby rock and return their shrug with one of my own. And sometimes, the gift is not tangible, but instead, it is their presumed assistance in helping me find my way. They ask if I know where I am going, and I sometimes lie so that they will not point 100 meters away to the entrance of my destination and then request a tip. I would love to engage on a non-monetary level, but unfortunately, at least in Marrakech, such a wish may have to remain only a wish.
Southern Moroccan Excursion
While still in Istanbul, Adam and I heard stories from other travelers of the various treks in southern Morocco, and soon after entering our Riad, we found a poster with photos of camels, sand dunes, and Berber villages. Convincing us to go may have been one of the easiest sells that the Riad had to do.
Our route took us from Ait Benhaddou to Ouarzazate to La Vallee des Roses to Les Gorges de Dades, where we spent the first night. The second day we traveled to Les Gorges de Todra, then to Merzouga, and finally took camels to the middle of the desert in Bivouac, where we spent the second night. The final day we had a long journey back to Marrakech.
In the Berber village, we all received the hard sell in a traditional home for a handmade rugs. After a couple rounds of tea, getting to know the Berber family, and eventually being shown many colorful rugs, I found one that I liked, bargained the price down, and made a semi-impulsive buy.
Later in the journey, the western Sahara lived up to expectations. The sand dunes looked like ocean waves, except that they begged to be climbed. And with one high-reaching dune next to our camp site tempting the group to climb it, we couldn’t resist. About half way up the dune, we realized that this was going to be more difficult that we originally assessed. For each step upward, we slipped slightly downwards as well. And as I eventually starting crawling up the mountain because of its increasing slope, each planted claw would cause a miniature land slide just around it. Eventually, one of the group members, a physically fit individual from Argentina reached the top of the hill giving me a clear target to reach. I summit the hill while I am well out of breath and inspired by the surrounding sand in every direction.
The night ends with me on a thin mattress covered by a blanket staring up at constellations unfaded by street lights or even by the moon. The slight breeze against my face felt perfect as I drifted off to sleep.
Marrakech, Morocco
Our time in Marrakech begins at the Amour de Riad located on Derb Jamaa near Derb Debachi. The Riad (hostel) staff is very welcoming as they give us a quick tour, show us our room, and provide us with some helpful recommendations. Riad technically means garden, but it also signifies a Moroccan house with an interior garden or courtyard, and although I have little to compare it to, I feel that our Riad has an authentic feel with many stories and rooms surrounding a central common area. In addition, the derb of our riad is relatively quiet and clean compared to much of the Old Medina. This is a welcome change compared to the hustle of the main square and its immediate branching derbs.
After changing into clothes to better prepare ourselves for the desert heat, we head out to find some food and to see the sites. I eat some delicious chicken tajine and set out with Adam to the Bahia Palace and Dar Si Said only to find them both closed. So, before getting our third strike, we decide to wander through the Old Medina and enjoy the Jemaa el Fna, its central square, and we save the other sites for the next day, both of which end up being a great way to see Moroccan architecture with their elaborate woodwork and mosaics. In addition, we end up going to a photography museum that has great old photos of what Marrakesh, the Old Medina, and Moroccans looked like in years past.
Moroccans and their Tea
Tea has become an unplanned theme of my trip, so I might as well continue to weave this theme into my Moroccan experience. Requesting tea in Morocco always means requesting sweet mint tea, and labeling this tea sweet is an understatement. Sugar is easily the primary ingredient, but having the sweet tooth that I do, I never refuse a refill. Staying in the Riad de Amour in the Old Medina of Marrakech, Adam and I are offered tea one evening, and I use the opportunity to learn the intricacies of sweet mint tea preparation.
Predictably, the process begins by boiling water. A small amount of green tea is the steeped in a little tea pot. Meanwhile, mint leaves are crushed and washed. The steeped tea from the small pot is stylistically poured into a cup from an unnecessary height before returning it back to the small pot. The other rational reason I can produce is that a cooling process aids in something. Afterwards, the mint leaves are added into the small pot along with more boiling water to fill the pot to the top. The most critical ingredient ingredient, sugar, is then added by the cube full. In a pot that may have held about 200 to 300 ml, about 10 sizable sugar cubes are added. The small pot is then placed on the stove until the water comes to a simmer and threatens to spill over. After a little more fancy height pouring, some tasting, and adding more sugar, the tea is ready to be served. But just in case the tea is not sweet enough, it is served with more sugar alongside. My question, however, is given that the sugar can no longer stay in solution at the present moment, how is adding sugar going to do anything except to contribute to the bottom sugar collection.
The strong religious, Islamic culture in Morocco results in limited availability of alcohol. After all, one cannot drink alcohol while in eyesight of a mosque, and the country is not short on mosques. One evening, Adam and I try to find a local beer, and everyone we ask in the Marrakech Old Medina points us to Gueliz. The vagueness that is Guilez was a bit frustrating because it only signifies the new area of Marrakech, and we ask the cab to take us there, we end up in front of a McDonald’s. We complain and say we want to go to an area with bars, and we are soon dropped off at a building with the word “Bar” inscribed in bright red lights at the top, where we eventually find a Casablanca brew. More typically, in the evening, instead of seeing a group huddled around a bar, many locals relax at a cafe, sip tea and cafe noir. At the end of meals, tea is served. When negotiating in a rug shop, tea is present. After entering a home, tea is offered. When planning our southern Morocco excursion, we all sip tea. Tea is ubiquitous, delicious, the beverage of choice here in Morocco.
Dinner in Marrakech
A juke to the left, and then I perform a spin move around a very aggressive restaurant employee so that I can explore more options before making a decision. And by restaurant, I mean a tent covering a stove alongside several tables, one of which is full of raw ingredients waiting to be cooked. The food is all traditional Moroccan and every restaurant prepares identical dishes with identical prices. That is probably why they all feel the need to tackle prospective customers as they walk near. The first night, after failing to understand the menu, which is written all in French, I stand up and point to vegetables and meats that are laid out on the table instead of guessing what each might be called on the menu. The food comes out hot and as soon as its ready. Adam and I eat like this for two nights, and over those nights I try the couscous with chicken, meat skewers, peppers, mushrooms, and potatoes, all of which are delicious. And after dinner, we wash down the meal with a glass of sweet mint tea before settling our very reasonable bill.
That all said, my favorite Moroccan dish is Tagine, which are slow cooked so that the meat, either chicken or beef, comes right off the bone and melts in my mouth. Unfortunately, the dish is very hot, so when it’s close to 100 degrees outside, a hot meal becomes slightly less appetizing.
The Orange Juice
One glass, two glass
The oranges amass
A fruit and a snack
I always go back
To the orange stand
With no particular brand
And juice so pro-pulp
That I must always gulp.
And at four dirham for one
Being one and done
Would be a big joke
For any thirsty bloke.
Casablanca
“The guidebooks love to tell you that the movie, perhaps the most famous film ever made, was shot entirely in Hollywood. I found it strange that it should have attracted such a cult following, famous for being famous. As the first scenes came and went, I couldn’t help but notice that the Casablanca depicted on-screen had very little to do with the city in which I was sitting. Indeed, I wondered if the two had ever been true reflections of each other. In the film, wartime Casablanca was a mysterious haven in which refugees heading for America would become stranded. Although the story line may have been founded on a fragment of truth, the city dreamt up on Warner Brothers’ back lot was a suffocating blend of Arab styles, whereas Casablanca of the time was European from top to toe.”
I can relate this quote from Tahir Shah’s “The Caliph’s House” to at least one emotion I felt while wandering around the city of Casablanca. Before arriving, my main exposure to the city came from this award-winning film. My high school prom was even themed Casablanca. I had my fedora ready and was prepared to task Sam to play it again. When I arrived, as Shah describes above, Casablanca is slightly different than the movie suggests. And Rick’s Cafe even closed at the early hour of 12pm on a Saturday night.
The city has a look that it used to be a more glamorous city and that it is trying to recapture some of that sparkle. For example, as I was doing Lonely Planet’s walking tour, I noticed they are in the process of tearing up a major road to install a tram system. In addition, in the 1990’s, the Hassan II Mosque was built on the water’s front. This mosque, one of the King’s projects costing about half a billion dollars, is a controversial subject considering the high unemployment rates in Morocco and the other uses for such a large sum of money. That said, the mosque looked like it cost about that with its 210 meter tall minaret, its courtyard made to handle crowds of 80,000, its centrally heated floor, a different glass floor, and its retractable roof. There was a line somewhere and I think Hassan II may have crossed it.
Staying at the Hotel Central in Casablanca’s Old Medina, the owner of the Hotel recommended we try a nearby restaurant called Sqala for dinner. We did just that, were not dissappointed, and it later reappeared in Shah’s book.
“[Zohra, Shah’s assistant,] suggested an excellent restaurant called Sqala, set in a former Portuguese fortress on the cusp of the medina. Moroccan food tends to be as inferior in restaurants as it is superior in the home. To achieve the subtle flavors takes an astonishing amount of care and time. The ambiance is important as the food itself, as is the attention lavished on a guest. As you gorge yourself on the delicacies, with your hosts whispering flattery, it’s very hard not to give in to delusion.
“The meal reintroduced me to the sensory marvels of real Moroccan cuisine. We ordered a selection of dishes. There was chicken tagine flavored with tumeric, honey, and apricots; a pair of sea bream marinated in a saffron sauce and served on a bed of couscous. After that came bistiya, a vast platter of sweet pastry, beneath which lay wafer-thin layers of pigeons, almonds, and egg.
“Zohra said the family was the center of Moroccan life, and that food was at the center of the family.”
A couple other highlights of my short time in Casablanca were both athletically driven. In the afternoon, the Casablanca futbol team won its league (or something along those lines based on the explanation I was given in broken english), and those dressed in green and white flew their flags, crammed into buses unclear to where, and made lots of noise. Then the following morning, on our way to the Hassan II Mosque, Adam and I walked along a part of a half marathon route. We pretended that we were disappointed that we didn’t know it was occurring as if we would have participated otherwise.
Although Casablanca was not the cultural center of Morocco, it did have some impressive sights and offered some delicious tastes for my first day in the country.
Byzantium and Constantinople
Istanbul has a rich history that has been influenced by many cultures in many times. Istanbul was Constantinople. Now it’s Istanbul, not Constantinople. Been a long time gone, Constantinople. Now it’s Turkish delight on a moonlit night! Throughout its long history, this city that touches both the European and Asian continents was once the capital of the expansive Roman and Ottoman Empires.
The sites we visited that most highlighted both the city’s history and its grandeur included the Hagia Sophia (Ayasofya), the Topkapi Palace, the Blue Mosque (Sultan Ahmet Camii), the New Mosque (Yeni Cami), and the Istanbul Archeology Museum. The Archeology Museum was overwhelming as I made my way through the one million artifacts including some beautiful Roman statues and some very elaborate sarcophagi. And with our hostel located just next to the Sultanahmet District, all of these sites were only a short walk away.
Ferry Boats
Athens and Istanbul both had great ferries. Athens had a system with boats that looked like cruise-liners while Turkey’s boats were more ferry-like, but they both were effective and enjoyable. In addition, Athens boats traveled longer distances instead of just over the Bosphorus in Istanbul. Given my positive ferry-riding experiences in these two countries, Dr. Derek Shepherd may have had it right when he chose to work in Seattle because of their ferry boats. A daily commute that includes a short ferry ride could be enjoyable (as long as traffic wasn’t an issue).
One City, Two Continents
Before leaving Istanbul, it wouldn’t be fair to us or to the city itself not to go explore the Asian side, so Adam and I hopped on a ferry and ventured over to Kadikoy. Here, we enjoyed a much less touristy experience, good food at a restaurant called Ciya Sofrazi, and a fun network of lively, filled streets. From this journey over to Kadikoy, we can now better appreciate the fact that one city is built on two different continents. That said, the area still had a more Turkish than Asian feel, and based on the shear number of Turkish flags (which we have seen all over the city hanging from almost every building), there was no question that we were in Istanbul first and Asia second.
