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.