Monday, January 08, 2007
Tuesday 12th December – Tangiers, Morrocco
We were up nice and early to catch the fast ferry from Tarifa to Tangiers, only 35 minutes, the sea was a little rough! After reading a travel guide where they had not chosen a guide and wished they had, we decided to follow their advice. For 70 Euros for the family we were promised a car tour, a trip to the medina (Old Tangiers) a ride on a camel and a visit to the market and an authentic Moroccan meal.
So after being marched through the dock (with Cadan walking headlong into a signpost!), we piled into an old Mercedes taxi with the driver and the guide in front. Our guide had many animated Arabic conversations on his mobile, in between these conversations he was quick to point out places of interest with comments such as “that is the Spanish Embassy”, “that is the kings summer residence” and “that is the catholic cemetery”, all this as we drove past at about 30 mph.
We stopped for our camel ride whereupon the children were seized by our guides and the camel handlers and plonked on top of a camel. They then led the camel on a five minute walk around what could only be described as a car park and then after a photo we all piled back in the car. We were then taken to a beauty spot at the most northern part of Africa where on the right is the Mediterranean and on the left is the Atlantic, we oohed and ahhed and piled back in the car. We were then taken to a spot overlooking the main square. The square was quite fascinating to watch with all the different types of dress and general goings on. In the 15 minutes that we were observing we saw a man taken away by the police, some men trying to remove a lamp post that had been completely knocked over and was lying in the road, the peasant farmers from the hill with their colourful ponchos and straw hats bringing things to sell in the market and all the other different types of dress worn by the different groups. We also heard the Islamic call to prayer. All of this was interesting and what a wonderful bit of home education!
We were then passed to our guide’s brother-in-law, who was to conduct the walking tour. This was what we expected from Morocco, narrow winding streets with a market that seems a little chaotic, noisy and smelly. The fruit and vegetables looked fresh and inviting and our 2nd guide was quick to point out that they were all grown without chemicals. We were taken through some more winding streets past shops selling traditional clothes, carpets and wooden ornaments. Our guide took us to a restaurant where he left us in the hands of the waiter and were served a delicious Moroccan meal.
After our meal we were taken to another market where there were stalls upon stalls of olives, it was a bombardment of colour and if any of us actually liked olives, we would have been unable to resist. The spice stalls were also a wonderful array of colour and aroma, however, we were unable to savour all the different sensations as we were marched through this market as quick as we had been marched through the rest.
We were taken to a shop whereupon we were given a little demo about spices and oils, basically it was a sales demo. I did succumb and bought some spices and a cube of musk. The guide realising we had not bought much joined in the sales patter but to no avail. We were then taken through some more streets and into a carpet shop where we were shown many fine carpets, which were admittedly lovely but we did not want one, we had just spent 2 months de-cluttering our lives we did not want to then go and purchase more clutter even if they were very nice, we simply did not need a carpet, a rug or a mat! So we spent an embarrassing ½ and hour trying to explain we simply did not want one. After the seller said “I will embarrass you no longer” he then proceeded to bring out carpets “for the children”. A further 10 minutes passed before he realised his attempts were futile and we were released back to our guide.
After this we were marched to a dress shop where again they tried to convince us we needed to buy silk pyjamas for the boys or I should have a dress or Jon should have a caftan. When it seemed we would not buy any of these we were taken to the trinket shop across the street, where Jon and I were really just worried the boys were going to break something. Having disappointed our guide yet again we were informed we needed to head back to the dock to catch our boat and were marched there at a faster pace then before, although I didn’t think this could be possible, and at several points I had to carry Jory and run to catch up. We of course arrived at the dock at least ½ hour early and sat around waiting for the ferry. Throughout all this walking we were dogged by a street seller trying to sell us some drums, for the boys, demonstrating what a wonderful loud noise they made, as if that would entice us to buy them. You have to give these people their due they don’t give up easily. Being a typical brit and not wanting to offend, even though I was practically running carrying Jory and dragging Cadan along beside me, I kept smiling and shaking my head saying “No thank you”.
The Ferry back was even rougher than before and I had a couple of very dodgy moments, Max also started to look ill. Just when I thought I could hold back no longer we were coming into port.
On reflection we thought we might enjoy Tangiers without the guide and without the children. It seemed to be one very fast day moving quickly from one thing to the next with little time to stop and savour. Of course the main purpose of the guide was to get us to buy from the shops whereupon he would earn commission, but we simply were not interested. It is impossible to judge a country from one city and we have been told the hills and the surrounding countryside is very beautiful.
We spent the next couple of days recovering from our trip to Morocco and then packed up and drove to Cordoba for a 2 night stay, neither of us being able to remember why we chose to drive North in order to drive South again! Tomorrow we are off to Portugal.
