That's what we were hailed as at pretty much every step of our visit to Morocco (Picasa link). At the first word we pretended to not hear them, at the second we'd turn around and look a bit quizzically - as if to say, 'Really?'. Having realized that we were Indians they'd then cry out the most popular Indian origin word/person in Morocco - King Khan! This was then followed by an invitation to their shop, home, to have some tea etc. - anything to get you to step into their shop and loosen the purse-strings! Such was the story of Morocco.
We flew into Casablanca on a warm and muggy night (unfortunately it wasn't cold and stormy, so I couldn't start this blog on a better sounding note). Passing reasonably quickly through customs and a fairly clean and boring airport we headed to the city - and it felt like being back home. Rinky dinky taxis not much bigger than rickshaws, asthma inducing levels of pollution and hap-hazard roads - all of which somehow work without overpowering the city morgue. Our stay in Casablanca was all to brief - there really isn't much to see here other than an enormous building which also passes off as the second largest mosque in the world. So we headed to Marrakesh to pick up a car and drive out to the Atlas Mountains and a taste of the desert.
They say travelers to Morocco shouldn't rent their own cars, especially small city cars (and the dents on the rental certainly attested to this), but being 'independent' travelers as we like to consider ourselves, and just plain cheap, I picked up the smallest and cheapest model available that looked like it had won the destruction derby. Well - I am happy to note that the roads were good and while there were a couple of hair-raising moments, by and large it went well and we made our way to the Higher Atlas.
The next two days we spent driving around the mountains, exploring 'Kasbahs' - fortified mansions, driving up one gorge, down another and eating some fabulous Moroccan food. We also managed to score a night at a Kasbah as a result of some plain dumb and our overall lack of planning. We were headed to Zagora for the night and as is usual were running a couple of hours behind schedule, when we stopped for dinner at a small god-forsaken town called Nkob in the middle of nowhere Morocco. The waiter was a chatty chap and after he heard where we were headed to and at what time in the night, he just said 'NO'. A bit confused, I asked him what he meant by 'NO', and he replied its too late and too dangerous to drive there at this point. He then made his way over to the only other non-locals in the joint and had a chat with them. Turned out they were a German couple who had purchased a Kasbah and had spent the last five years painstakingly restoring and converting it to a fancy hotel. They had just about opened the place and didn't have any guests staying that night. They very graciously offered us a room for half the price (and that was still way expensive!) and we headed over to their Kasbah. We slept like babies, wallowing in luxury and followed it up with a great breakfast the next day.
Having got our 'living like royals in the desert' fix, we headed to Marrakech and its famous Medina. The Medina is the old city and is a warren of two-three story buildings accessible by the tightest and twistiest lanes you'll ever encounter - all set within the fortified walls of the city. 99% of the lanes have only foot traffic and getting lost is the first thing you'll accomplish upon entering one. We couchsurfed the first night and then spent the next night at a great Riad in the middle of the Medina. Riads are the two story traditional family houses built a couple of hundred years ago in the Medina. They normally house around 60-80 occupants clustered around a central courtyard with balconies running along the inner courtyard. These days however, a number of them are being converted into specialty hotels with five to six rooms/suites each - which gives you an idea of how the crowded it is usually! The Riad was to be our oasis in the madness of the old city. The minute we stepped out, we were assaulted from all directions by offers to check out shops, people curious to know who we were and where we came from and constant offers to guide us to some sight or the other.
Unemployment is pretty high in Morocco and on every corner there are a couple of men aged 18-35 who in passing ask you where you are headed to and then proceed to walk along with you while at the same time engaging you in conversation. After arriving at your destination they then put out a hand for baksheesh - irrespective of whether you asked them to come along or not, or knew the way yourself - and get downright pissy when you refuse to indulge. At one point even a six year old girl asked us where we were headed to - they do start them young! Even opening up the map is a scary proposition and in no time you are surrounded by folks wanting to 'help' you. Shaking off these 'guides' proved to be a full-time job and I think we got pretty adept at it. Marrakesh's medina has a gigantic square - Jamaa El Fna - which turns into a mad-house/Kumbh mela every evening. Every available space is taken up by snake charmers, henna painters, orange juice sellers and pick-pocketers. There were also stalls selling smoked snails - yes, I did try a bowl, and yes, they are delicious. Having thus enjoyed Marrakesh we moved onto Fes, and pretty much repeated the story by staying in a Riad, wandering around the medina lanes, and visiting the tanneries - which smelt hideous.
Needing a bit of fresh air and peace we made our way to Chefchaouen. Chefchaouen is a small town set high in the Rif mountains in the northern part of the country and is the official marijuana capital of the world. The plant is grown in prodigious quantities here and legally too - most of which then makes its way to Europe - where it is illegal. The city medina climbs up a fairly steep hill-side and only two colours are permitted, white and blue, which gives the entire medina a very Spanish or Greek fishing village look. Well, the air was fresher, the medina smaller, the shop-keepers not as pushy and we spent pretty much all our time lazing around town and exploring its lanes. After two days of refusing all offers to smoke some pot and convincing people that inspite of being named Ashish - which they all heard as 'Hashish' - I don't smoke pot we headed to Tanger to catch a ferry across the Strait of Gibraltar and onto Spain.
The next 20 days will be spent with the in-laws and in the interest of remaining their son-in-law I will be picking the thread up again in Turkey :).
- Ashish
We flew into Casablanca on a warm and muggy night (unfortunately it wasn't cold and stormy, so I couldn't start this blog on a better sounding note). Passing reasonably quickly through customs and a fairly clean and boring airport we headed to the city - and it felt like being back home. Rinky dinky taxis not much bigger than rickshaws, asthma inducing levels of pollution and hap-hazard roads - all of which somehow work without overpowering the city morgue. Our stay in Casablanca was all to brief - there really isn't much to see here other than an enormous building which also passes off as the second largest mosque in the world. So we headed to Marrakesh to pick up a car and drive out to the Atlas Mountains and a taste of the desert.
They say travelers to Morocco shouldn't rent their own cars, especially small city cars (and the dents on the rental certainly attested to this), but being 'independent' travelers as we like to consider ourselves, and just plain cheap, I picked up the smallest and cheapest model available that looked like it had won the destruction derby. Well - I am happy to note that the roads were good and while there were a couple of hair-raising moments, by and large it went well and we made our way to the Higher Atlas.
The next two days we spent driving around the mountains, exploring 'Kasbahs' - fortified mansions, driving up one gorge, down another and eating some fabulous Moroccan food. We also managed to score a night at a Kasbah as a result of some plain dumb and our overall lack of planning. We were headed to Zagora for the night and as is usual were running a couple of hours behind schedule, when we stopped for dinner at a small god-forsaken town called Nkob in the middle of nowhere Morocco. The waiter was a chatty chap and after he heard where we were headed to and at what time in the night, he just said 'NO'. A bit confused, I asked him what he meant by 'NO', and he replied its too late and too dangerous to drive there at this point. He then made his way over to the only other non-locals in the joint and had a chat with them. Turned out they were a German couple who had purchased a Kasbah and had spent the last five years painstakingly restoring and converting it to a fancy hotel. They had just about opened the place and didn't have any guests staying that night. They very graciously offered us a room for half the price (and that was still way expensive!) and we headed over to their Kasbah. We slept like babies, wallowing in luxury and followed it up with a great breakfast the next day.
Having got our 'living like royals in the desert' fix, we headed to Marrakech and its famous Medina. The Medina is the old city and is a warren of two-three story buildings accessible by the tightest and twistiest lanes you'll ever encounter - all set within the fortified walls of the city. 99% of the lanes have only foot traffic and getting lost is the first thing you'll accomplish upon entering one. We couchsurfed the first night and then spent the next night at a great Riad in the middle of the Medina. Riads are the two story traditional family houses built a couple of hundred years ago in the Medina. They normally house around 60-80 occupants clustered around a central courtyard with balconies running along the inner courtyard. These days however, a number of them are being converted into specialty hotels with five to six rooms/suites each - which gives you an idea of how the crowded it is usually! The Riad was to be our oasis in the madness of the old city. The minute we stepped out, we were assaulted from all directions by offers to check out shops, people curious to know who we were and where we came from and constant offers to guide us to some sight or the other.
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| Jamma el Fnaa |
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| Chefchaouen blues |
The next 20 days will be spent with the in-laws and in the interest of remaining their son-in-law I will be picking the thread up again in Turkey :).
- Ashish
Haha, when you told them your name they probably thought you were asking for hashish! Ferry to Spain sounds exciting. Man, you both are having loads of fun (and experiences)!
ReplyDelete-Ashutosh