(To follow the full Morocco trip, start at TRAVEL: Morocco 1)
Once again, notes from our Morocco trip:
We began the day at 7:30 and climbed the steep hill that looms behind the town of Azrou. The ascent was treacherous at times and not super well marked, but we got a great view at the end. Nothing quite like watching a sunrise slowly bathe a city in morning light. We scooted and scraped our way down and returned just in time for breakfast which was similar fare as yesterday: baguette, pastry, thin fried dough, apricot jam, coffee and orange juice.
Once satiated, we set out into town to find a Tuesday market Ellen had read about. It took a half hour of searching but when we finally stumbled on it...it was intense. Hundreds of makeshift stalls selling every good imaginable: shoes, dresses, children's toys, hardware supplies, baskets, buckets, grains and spices in open burlap sacks, furniture, toiletries. The produce section was massive - a vibrant collection of colors and smells. Trucks and carts inched and muscled through the already cramped alleys of the market, their rickety beds full of various sundries, produce, and even livestock. There were tinsmiths repairing teapots and cobblers toiling over the soles of shoes. There were even men selling durable cloth bags for overladen shoppers.
Emily bought some yarn for knitting by pleasantly stumbling through French with a smiley salesman. One of his fellow coworkers, a surly gentleman, wore a sweatshirt with the Winnie the Pooh character Tigger slapped on the front. It read, "Tigger - All Bounce." There was an entire football field's worth of space near the back of the market devoted to selling sheep. The poor creatures were tied together by the neck, looking like upright wooly bushels, while empty trucks waited by the sidelines. We witnessed a couple men wrangling up four sheep between them for sale - A mess of frantic bleats and grasped limbs and necks locked in armpit nooks. It was both comical and disturbing. Feeling it was time to head out, we meandered our way back while also grabbing lunch for the upcoming car ride: bananas, oranges, dates, figs, olives and radishes (for Tym). We also had a few hunks of baguette we buttered and swiped from breakfast.
Once returning to the riad arms, full of goodies, we separated and packed quickly. Just before leaving we ran into the delightful woman who made us dinner the night before and breakfast that morning. We thanked her profusely and she gave Emily a big hug and a double cheek kiss. She was our favorite.
We left the city promptly and set out on our 5 hour journey through the Atlas mountains. The start was hilly, eventually traveling down a small canyon with a mostly dry river running through it. The homes flattened out and becoming less frequent. The who vibe reminded me of the American west. There were mossy balls that look like the furry tribbles from Star Trek. At one point we turned a corner and saw the snow-capped peaks of the Atlas mountains. Truly breathtaking. After the view, the road smoothed out to an easy flat plain with mesas looming across the landscape.
We caught the occasional rest-stop, restaurants and hotels advertised on faded signs. One featured the figure of an Italian chef with a tajine in hand. Another even had a big tajine as a roof. In a small "one-horse" town, butchers hung formidable slabs of meat. We were passed by a string of motorcyclists who we later learned were German when we stopped at a gas station and paid 3 dirham(~$.30) to pee. A red sign featured Chinese characters, of all things, for a multiple story hotel that catered to Chinese tourists. Quite bizarre in the middle of the mountains of Morocco. One town, clearly flush with cash, featured sprawling housing developments and water fountains. A giant apple perched in the center of a roundabout.
I noticed solitary people sitting by the road, far from settlements, sometimes wandering out in the arid landscape. I wondered what they were doing and what their lives must be like. So many people just watching, lounging, doing nothing.
The way got gradually steeper, with winding switchbacks as we climbed the mountain. The rocks were a popular place to paint graffiti, but most of them were censored with crude patches of white paint. There was barely a trickle of river in the mountain pass, where people watered there sheep and hung out. We even saw a few cars parked in the riverbed.
The pass turned quickly into a rust-red canyon s we descended and the river became engulfed in bright green trees and prehistoric looking palms. One of the most bizarre and beautiful things I have ever seen in my life. A hotel took advantage of the atmosphere of red rock and foliage, calling itself "L'Hotel Jurassique". Ruinous, ancient walls dotted the sides of the canyon. Cleary people had been living there for centuries, feeding off the bounty of the lush canyon.
Just out of the canyon was a massive, crystal blue lake, bordered by foothills. Soon after, the land became much flatter and devoid of vegetation. Red rocks as far as you can see. But as we enter ed Errachidia, palm farms blossomed from the landscape. In many places, woven palm fences were used as barricades and the walls and ceilings for trade stalls. We drove past a significant and decorative mosque and a place called "Pizza Burger". Errachidia is a wealthy city, and there are dozens of compounds, areas closed up with red stone walls and single gates describing their contents. Government centers, military complexes and academies, from what we can gather. We passed a colorfully painted area full of bustling children, most definitely a school. Just beyond that, we saw soccer field after soccer field in the flat terrain and a community center hosting a large crowd with a graveyard behind it.
A half hour out from our destination we start seeing signs for shops with fossils, and in front of one is a full T-Rex skeleton. The land is rich with fossils and local businesses take advantage of the bounty. Just beyond that, there are dunes in the distance, a taste of what we can expect tomorrow. Entering Arfoud we're met with droves of palms set in water, a strange sight this close to the desert.
At the end of our epic road trip, we pulled into our hotel for the night, complete with parking that didn't involve getting hassled. The place was fabulous. There was a main lobby with a dining room and gift shop and out back the paths tendriled around a crystal blue pools to cute little houses. The palm trees are everywhere and everything is Disneyland clean. While we were sitting by the pool to plan for dinner, the manager showed up with mint tea and led us through all the amenities and logistics of our stay. His English was the best we've heard since coming, to the point where he tricked us by saying breakfast was from five to six in the morning, leading to fear, confusion and eventual relief when he revealed that he was joking. Great guy.
Shortly after deciding we were going to go to an interesting pizza place nearby (yes, I know, pizza) we were approached by a woman with a heavy New York accent. She asked us about where we were from and our plans and we discovered she was the wife of one of the co-owners. She had a home in Fez and frowned at us going to Meknas instead, because the walls of Meknas were built with the blood of slaves by some ancient tyrant. Yikes. She was also bummed we weren't going to eat at the hotel, but we had a pizza mission to complete.
We walked along the road for a mile or so, passing some other hotels and restaurants. Lots of bikes and cars and horse drawn wagons passed us by. We managed to find the place easy enough. The atmosphere was lovely and we had Moroccan salads and strange, sauceless pizzas topped with unique things like dates and tuna fish - all surprisingly good. After paying we walked back along the road keeping one eye on the traffic and one on the stars. There was a friendly circle of African drummers parked on bikes on the way home.
Tomorrow we go into the desert.
Today's HaikuOnce again, notes from our Morocco trip:
We began the day at 7:30 and climbed the steep hill that looms behind the town of Azrou. The ascent was treacherous at times and not super well marked, but we got a great view at the end. Nothing quite like watching a sunrise slowly bathe a city in morning light. We scooted and scraped our way down and returned just in time for breakfast which was similar fare as yesterday: baguette, pastry, thin fried dough, apricot jam, coffee and orange juice.
Once satiated, we set out into town to find a Tuesday market Ellen had read about. It took a half hour of searching but when we finally stumbled on it...it was intense. Hundreds of makeshift stalls selling every good imaginable: shoes, dresses, children's toys, hardware supplies, baskets, buckets, grains and spices in open burlap sacks, furniture, toiletries. The produce section was massive - a vibrant collection of colors and smells. Trucks and carts inched and muscled through the already cramped alleys of the market, their rickety beds full of various sundries, produce, and even livestock. There were tinsmiths repairing teapots and cobblers toiling over the soles of shoes. There were even men selling durable cloth bags for overladen shoppers.
Emily bought some yarn for knitting by pleasantly stumbling through French with a smiley salesman. One of his fellow coworkers, a surly gentleman, wore a sweatshirt with the Winnie the Pooh character Tigger slapped on the front. It read, "Tigger - All Bounce." There was an entire football field's worth of space near the back of the market devoted to selling sheep. The poor creatures were tied together by the neck, looking like upright wooly bushels, while empty trucks waited by the sidelines. We witnessed a couple men wrangling up four sheep between them for sale - A mess of frantic bleats and grasped limbs and necks locked in armpit nooks. It was both comical and disturbing. Feeling it was time to head out, we meandered our way back while also grabbing lunch for the upcoming car ride: bananas, oranges, dates, figs, olives and radishes (for Tym). We also had a few hunks of baguette we buttered and swiped from breakfast.
Once returning to the riad arms, full of goodies, we separated and packed quickly. Just before leaving we ran into the delightful woman who made us dinner the night before and breakfast that morning. We thanked her profusely and she gave Emily a big hug and a double cheek kiss. She was our favorite.
We left the city promptly and set out on our 5 hour journey through the Atlas mountains. The start was hilly, eventually traveling down a small canyon with a mostly dry river running through it. The homes flattened out and becoming less frequent. The who vibe reminded me of the American west. There were mossy balls that look like the furry tribbles from Star Trek. At one point we turned a corner and saw the snow-capped peaks of the Atlas mountains. Truly breathtaking. After the view, the road smoothed out to an easy flat plain with mesas looming across the landscape.
We caught the occasional rest-stop, restaurants and hotels advertised on faded signs. One featured the figure of an Italian chef with a tajine in hand. Another even had a big tajine as a roof. In a small "one-horse" town, butchers hung formidable slabs of meat. We were passed by a string of motorcyclists who we later learned were German when we stopped at a gas station and paid 3 dirham(~$.30) to pee. A red sign featured Chinese characters, of all things, for a multiple story hotel that catered to Chinese tourists. Quite bizarre in the middle of the mountains of Morocco. One town, clearly flush with cash, featured sprawling housing developments and water fountains. A giant apple perched in the center of a roundabout.
I noticed solitary people sitting by the road, far from settlements, sometimes wandering out in the arid landscape. I wondered what they were doing and what their lives must be like. So many people just watching, lounging, doing nothing.
The way got gradually steeper, with winding switchbacks as we climbed the mountain. The rocks were a popular place to paint graffiti, but most of them were censored with crude patches of white paint. There was barely a trickle of river in the mountain pass, where people watered there sheep and hung out. We even saw a few cars parked in the riverbed.
The pass turned quickly into a rust-red canyon s we descended and the river became engulfed in bright green trees and prehistoric looking palms. One of the most bizarre and beautiful things I have ever seen in my life. A hotel took advantage of the atmosphere of red rock and foliage, calling itself "L'Hotel Jurassique". Ruinous, ancient walls dotted the sides of the canyon. Cleary people had been living there for centuries, feeding off the bounty of the lush canyon.
Just out of the canyon was a massive, crystal blue lake, bordered by foothills. Soon after, the land became much flatter and devoid of vegetation. Red rocks as far as you can see. But as we enter ed Errachidia, palm farms blossomed from the landscape. In many places, woven palm fences were used as barricades and the walls and ceilings for trade stalls. We drove past a significant and decorative mosque and a place called "Pizza Burger". Errachidia is a wealthy city, and there are dozens of compounds, areas closed up with red stone walls and single gates describing their contents. Government centers, military complexes and academies, from what we can gather. We passed a colorfully painted area full of bustling children, most definitely a school. Just beyond that, we saw soccer field after soccer field in the flat terrain and a community center hosting a large crowd with a graveyard behind it.
A half hour out from our destination we start seeing signs for shops with fossils, and in front of one is a full T-Rex skeleton. The land is rich with fossils and local businesses take advantage of the bounty. Just beyond that, there are dunes in the distance, a taste of what we can expect tomorrow. Entering Arfoud we're met with droves of palms set in water, a strange sight this close to the desert.
At the end of our epic road trip, we pulled into our hotel for the night, complete with parking that didn't involve getting hassled. The place was fabulous. There was a main lobby with a dining room and gift shop and out back the paths tendriled around a crystal blue pools to cute little houses. The palm trees are everywhere and everything is Disneyland clean. While we were sitting by the pool to plan for dinner, the manager showed up with mint tea and led us through all the amenities and logistics of our stay. His English was the best we've heard since coming, to the point where he tricked us by saying breakfast was from five to six in the morning, leading to fear, confusion and eventual relief when he revealed that he was joking. Great guy.
Shortly after deciding we were going to go to an interesting pizza place nearby (yes, I know, pizza) we were approached by a woman with a heavy New York accent. She asked us about where we were from and our plans and we discovered she was the wife of one of the co-owners. She had a home in Fez and frowned at us going to Meknas instead, because the walls of Meknas were built with the blood of slaves by some ancient tyrant. Yikes. She was also bummed we weren't going to eat at the hotel, but we had a pizza mission to complete.
We walked along the road for a mile or so, passing some other hotels and restaurants. Lots of bikes and cars and horse drawn wagons passed us by. We managed to find the place easy enough. The atmosphere was lovely and we had Moroccan salads and strange, sauceless pizzas topped with unique things like dates and tuna fish - all surprisingly good. After paying we walked back along the road keeping one eye on the traffic and one on the stars. There was a friendly circle of African drummers parked on bikes on the way home.
Tomorrow we go into the desert.
Dusky red canyon
cradling an oasis
full of fat palm trees
Today's Workoutcradling an oasis
full of fat palm trees
(exempt due to travel)
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