MoROCKo Part 2: In Hour You Be Laughing

Chelsea and I practically ran off of the bus that was still trying to park in the bus station (AKA a big patch of dirt) and there were so many people trying to get us to go to their trusty cousin's ryad in town but we pulled away and started walking. To where...we weren't sure...but we had arrived! With Chelsea's map we started walking down main avenues and then this kid came up to us and was like...woah, haven't seen any Americans yet. The only liquor store in town is just down the street the other way FYI. And with that, he was the last American form of contact we would really have the entire trip. Glad to know he had his priorities straight too. They teach us well.
We made it into the Medina (the great walls that inside have all the twisty turvy alleyways and the souks) and we actually found the restaurant Taro's recommended in Chelsea's book first so we stopped there to eat since we were famished.
It was great to regroup and enjoy the scenery and eat our first bit of chicken tangine and shortly afterward we began our walk into the Medina to find our ryad.
Wow. What a pleasant surprise when we walked in. It was absolutely magnificent inside. A truly hidden gem. We were shown our rooms and showered up and by the time we headed out we started walking along the beach to ride our camels at sunset. Of course it was the one hippie dude on the beach stopping us to buy his hash cookies...I really did think about it for a minute but I knew not to trust those that you could trust in Morocco.
We stopped for a quick cup of coffee and just as soon as the camel handlers were going to pack up for the day we ran over and got the last ride. It couldn't have been better timing and I appropriately got on the camel named "Cappuccino" which I had just gotten done drinking. Match made in heaven really. The sun seemed to set perfectly between this split in this island in the distance...truly magical. We even got to see Jimi Hendrix' old mansion on the beach and "The Castles Made of Sand" that he supposedly wrote about in Essaouira. Cool.
By the time we got back to our ryad Kathleen and Dawn were waiting for us and we ate at a typical Moroccan restaurant to commemorate our first day in Morocco. We packed it in shortly after to get a full day.
Since Kat and Dawn had missed the camel trek they did that first thing in the morning while Chelsea and I went walking around the port area and tried to see a fish auction go down. We met up for lunch at the seaside to haggle for our meal that was literally prepared right in front of our eyes. It was a once in a lifetime experience for sure. We did a little souk shopping and bought some typical clothing and some souvenirs and went to the old fort to take some pretty pics and before we knew it, it was time to say goodbye to the coast only to head back to Marrakech.
I had told Kat to take Supratours and so they went to their nice bus station which was only for Supratours while we headed to the "bus station" in town and with our tickets in our hands were looking around and we don't see the name of the bus anywhere...so we walk inside and Chelsea decides to go to the front counter for departures to Marrakech while I decide to go to the police station in the bus station. In the worst attempt at French ever I explained I didn't know French (I'm sure I didn't need to tell him that) and that I spoke English. I think I asked him where the bus was departing that was on my slip and he took it from me and told me to follow him to the Marrakech departure stand and exchanged a few words with the guy behind the booth and he shortly thereafter wrote us two new tickets at no extra cost!!!!
One we were really excited because we would get on the bus bound for Marrakech and two we had been duped by the first guy in Marrakech. I hope hes happy with my 6 euros. So we run to the bus which is practically pulling out and what do you know...we are sitting in the back with a bunch of teenagers. These two behind us started off really funny but then it grew annoying. The one would recite every word he knew in English, "Hello my name is Abdul. What is your name? Would you like a cup of coffee? No, maybe later. What is your phone number? My phone number is 83515313..." Haha. No.
Then we asked his buddy to switch seats so he could now sit behind me. Chelsea leans over and was like, "don't freak out but hes been touching my back for the past 30 minutes...he going to try to mess with you but don't acknowledge it." I think its safe to say that I will definitely acknowledge that behavior.
I was prepared though and leaned forward so he couldn't touch me. Yeah right. He had like extend-able fingers and was like stroking my back and I slammed backward but he still continued. I moved forward again but he was digging his fingers into my back. I threw my bag of souvenirs crushing his fingers and he jumped back surprised and he stopped soon after. But the English taunting didn't stop. "No. Stop it. Don't touch me. Stop screaming." I have no idea where he learned those words and I didn't want to know either.
We had finally made it back to the sketchy bus station in Marrakech and we saw a petite taxi parked and told him that we had 20 dirham if he could take us to our hotel. He pretended that he didn't know the name of it I'm sure and just said no. So we crossed the street to this big hotel and there was a map of the city and lucky for us it was really close so we started our walk to the place just outside of the center and got there really tired, hungry and dirty.

MoROCKo Part 1: Couscous Kachoo

Where do I start!?!

Having my partner in crime, Chelsea Hamashin, come visit me was such a blast!!! She got here May 5th, just as soon as the month of Fería in Córdoba was kicking off (so much to do!) As soon as she arrived we were literally out the door exploring the Judería (the Jewery) to see the public patios with the beautifully decorated...well, patios. We walked around and saw the Mezquita, La Correderra, etc. and called it an early night since she was pretty exhausted.
The next day we explored a bit more and then we met up with my friends Jackie and Caitlyn to go the ¨wine tasting¨. It was anything BUT that. They have this ticket system for all of their events, very much like the fairs at home if you want to go on the rides. We bought 10 tickets between us, thinking we would only sample 5 types of wine and maybe buy a bottle because the prices were generous.
I was not aware that out of the 100 casetas (tents) that they would all be this distinct (in my opinion...nasty) white wine, called ¨vino fino¨. Lets just say by the end of the night I couldn´t tell you my name, I will never show my face on Vial Norte again, and I have no clue how we managed to get in a taxi and me tell where I live because I know Chelsea couldn´t help because she doesn´t speak a word of Spanish.
I woke up the next morning hating myself. I have only had one beer since 3 weeks ago. Me being a bad hostess and Chelsea being a good sport set off to the farmacía to buy me some meds since I was absolutely disgusting with my smokers cough (apparently I´m allergic to the olive trees here in Spain..get to that later) and she brought back the nastiest medicine ever. I had to plug my nose to swallow it and it was just fatal. Looking back, I probably should have been consistent with taking it.
Anyway, by the time I had motivated myself to get out of the apartment a lot of our afternoon was lost and we headed out to get a bite to eat since Chelsea managed to eat everything in the apartment the night before. Jackie saw us off before we took our 5 hour bus ride to Madrid. I was really looking forward to this...we thought we were going to be up all night in Madrid going to a seedy Sevillana bar listening to music and enjoying cheap beer and wine until we had to catch the metro to the airport because our flight left at 6:30 in the morning.
However, come to find out the metro closes at 2 AM and re-opens at 6. Problem #1. We were clear across town when we found out. Problem #2. It was 1:50 AM when we found out. Problem OH SHIT. So we ran down to the closest metro stop and took it as far as we could before it shut down for the evening (I thought Madrid was the "town that never sleeps"...no, thats NYC. Don't label yourself with that motto unless you stick to it). We got off at Avenida America because it seemed promising. Boy, that was not right at all. There was a lone cabbie chilling outside chain smoking and looked sad for us. We eventually convinced ourselves that this was in fact the night that we had not planned and gave up around 2:30 and made our way to the airport. 23 euros later we had arrived to the airport.
Apparently everyone had our problem because there were many people sleeping in the fetal position scattered around the airport. It looked like a war zone with luggage and zombies. Then I realized...I forgot my boarding pass, which was on my bed at home. It costs 40 euros for Ryan Air to print you out a boarding pass and I was really stoked when I found that out. Well, 6 AM arrives and I'm first in line to check-in at the Marrakech counter and I go up to the lady and in Spanish I explain what an idiot I am for forgetting my boarding pass and she was really sympathetic but she told me that I had to go wait in line at the RyanAir counter to pay for the boarding pass and I walked off feeling defeated and pissed because now I had to use the 40 euros I was going to spend on my train ticket home (2 hour trip) and now have to buy the bus ticket home (5 hour trip). So we're standing in this line and it hasn't moved in 30 minutes and its insane now because flights are getting canceled due to this ash cloud and I'm thinking we won't even make the flight because of me and all of a sudden this little woman is walking around saying, "Alejandra Warenik"!??? And I was like, "sí, yo" and she explained that her associate had printed out my boarding pass and I could continue to my gate. I almost kissed the woman and was jumping up and down! We were off to a great start!
As soon as we got on the plane...well, I don't remember much after that. We passed out the 3 hour plane ride and shortly had arrived in Marrakech! We made it to the great and vast continent of Africa!!!!! It sounds so cool.
First things first was getting to the bus station to buy our tickets to the coastal town of Esssaouria. Want to know the sketchiest place in all of Morocco? The bus station. Clearly. We thought the only dependable bus company was Supratours so we walk in and we are looking for it, right? Well...its nowhere to be seen and this guy comes up to us and is hustling. He was like, "headed to Essaouira!?" and we turn to each other...how did he know? "No, were looking for Supratours". "You won't find it here, its at the train station (that makes sense). You will be wasting your time. The next bus leaves at 2PM and I've got a bus bound for Essaouira in 15 minutes and it will get you there by 12PM." We didn't know whether to believe him or not but we only had 5 minutes to figure it out. It was unanimous. "Okay. 2 tickets to Essaouira." He managed to get round-trip tickets out of us for 120 dirham (12 euros round-trip). WOW!
Well, we realized this was going to be an uncomfortable trip as soon as we got on. I've never smelled so many foul people together at the same time and so many creepy men coming on and off the bus all at once. We were supposed to leave at 8:45 and probably didn't pull out until 9:30 because of blind men begging, men preaching from the Koran, men selling food, etc. Even while we were moving people were continually jumping on and off the bus. Weird.
So we made the bus ride end quickly by passing out for most of the 3 hour bus ride. Around 12 we had finally arrived in Essaouira! It had a completely different vibe from the second we pulled in.