Out of West Africa

After over three months living in Ghana, the hubster and I took a long much-needed vacation to Morocco, Spain and Portugal for the Christmas holiday. First we met up with my Son #1 (S1) and Son #2 (S2) and Son #1 Girlfriend (S1GF) in Casablanca.   Somehow we managed to all fly into Casablanca and land within minutes of each other (S1, S2 and S1GF were all on the same flight from Paris). Unfortunately our hotel in Casablanca, with whom we had arranged transportation, was a little confused on how this all was going to work so they sent three cars to pick up the 5 of us. Overkill, but remember we are still on the continent of Africa so better than no car at all. Please keep reading to see that this is also a possibility.

The ride from the airport seemed like it was going to be fantastic first and foremost because we were riding in a new, beautiful, cush Mercedes Benz. After riding in Ubers and taxis in Ghana that sound and feel like the floor is going to fall out from underneath you at any minute this felt like the luxury ride of my life! Until…we are sitting at a traffic light and some guy decides to walk by the car and brushes something against the car. Suddenly our driver is opening the car door and pinning the guy up against the car and punching him in the face. Hubster and I are quietly sitting in the back seat and I am thinking, “Oh God, please make this go away soon and please no one jump in the car (other than the driver) and drive away with us.” After harsh words in Arabic and some more pushing and shoving and punching the driver returns and we are off.   He doesn’t say a word to us.   I hope that the rest of the vacation is less stressful.

Despite the rocky start, Casablanca was wonderful. It is a beautiful cosmopolitan city with great food and shopping and also old world charm with the Medina and souks.   In addition to walking about 10 miles, we visited the Hassan II Mosque, the 3^rd largest mosque in the world.   The tour guide bragged that the people of Morocco paid for the mosque but later we discovered that King Hassan decreed a subscription campaign asking all 26 million people to contribute, so it was a tax of sorts. The people of Morocco were not exactly happy about having to dish out the dough.   The final price tag was over $500 million – not surprising considering the place has titanium doors, a huge retractable roof, a laser on the 210 meter minaret pointing to Mecca and holds 25,000 inside and another 80,000 outside.  It is a stunning site right on the Atlantic Ocean and worth a visit if you are ever in Casablanca.

After two nights in Casablanca we headed to Marrakesh.   The first two nights we stayed in the Casbah (or Kasbah) at a lovely little boutique hotel complete with a hammam and spa. If you ever are in this part of the world definitely enjoy the hammam experience. Similar to the Turkish bath, it involves sitting in a steamy room on hard marble and sweating for a while (I do this just walking down the street in Ghana so was very comfortable) followed by someone (in my case a very nice lady) applying a cleansing black soap and then scrubbing both the soap and your dead skin off (quite vigorously). My skin felt fantastic afterwards and I swear that I she removed a few age spots. Our guide in Marrakesh told us that most of the people who live in the Kasbah do not have washrooms (only toilets) and so most people bathe at the many hammams throughout the city (um, no not the ones in the boutique hotels and riads). Especially in the morning and the evening we would see people carrying buckets that they take to the hammam with their clean clothes and towel and carry their dirty clothes back home in the same bucket. They use the bucket inside the hammam to either sit on or rinse off or both.

Marrakesh is a fun, colorful and vibrant city with the snow-covered Atlas Mountains sitting in the distance. There are quite a few street hustlers especially in the tourist area.   People chase you down trying to get you to come into their restaurant or sell you a tour somewhere or take you to a “special” place to buy rugs or other goods in the souks. The souks, or markets, are concentrated in the main square in the city.   From the outside it looks like a few little booths but once you start walking inside the souks you are in a maze of shops selling leather goods, shoes, ceramics, household items, literally everything. One day we went into the souks with a guide who took us to an argan oil factory which included the mandatory pitch from some guy which turned out to be quite effective as S1GF and I both bought a bunch of argan oil products that he promised would cure insomnia, arthritis, condition our hair, and even help create some delicious meals.   But when we left this place it felt like we were NEVER going to get out of the souks. We kept walking and walking and we were still inside this maze and I wondered if we would ever get back (this was all heightened because I was hungry and I had to pee), but of course we did make it out and my hair has been looking good ever since.

For Christmas we decided to spend a few days about 45 minutes outside of Marrakesh in an area called Lalla Takerkoust.   A friend recommended a lovely small resort, The Capaldi Hotel, owned by a British couple, which sits on many beautifully landscaped acres dotted with large loungers with umbrellas everywhere and 2 swimming pools.   On Christmas Day, the hubster, S1, S2 and S1GF went on a hike through the lower Atlas Mountains. We started in the small Berber town of Amizmiz, and went to the weekly local souk first where the locals were selling the best looking fresh fruits, vegetables and meat. This was not anything like the markets in Marrakesh – we were the only tourists around and most of the items for sale were food; including live chickens, big slabs of meat including whole legs of animals and practical household items including donkeys (yes, this is a practical household item in Amizmiz). From the town we wound our way up through the Atlas Mountains and through small Berber villages. We passed children playing in the villages; sheep with mostly woman sheepherders – holding umbrellas to protect them from the sun; and people riding on donkeys, usually sidesaddle, either to or from the market. Around noon we stopped at a home in one of the villages were we were served a “typical” Berber lunch which was a chicken tagine with plenty of those same fresh vegetables we saw in the market and served with a flat bread that is baked over hot coals. We had lots of the obligatory mint tea (even the unsweetened is still sweet!) and dessert was a big bowl of fresh fruit. If this is how the Berbers always eat they sure are healthy (except maybe for the sweetened mint tea many times a day). The next morning we did a hokey camel ride, which included all of us being dressed in colorful caftans and color coordinated head scarves followed by of course…more mint tea.

On our last day at the resort I decided to go for a run out to the lake Lalla Takerkoust.   It was a great run with fantastic views of the Atlas Mountains; ran past a few mosques on a mostly dirt path (my favorite to run on) and then along the lake and back through a small valley to the hotel. I came in from my run and into the lobby of the hotel, high on those endorphins and so happy with life and walked myself straight into a clear glass door. Bam. Just like that. I had a small gash on my nose – although it looked much worse at the time because it was bleeding so much as head wounds do. We were leaving in about an hour for the airport, or so I thought, so I rushed to shower, iced the heck out of my nose, got some quick breakfast, and hoped I didn’t need a doctor.   Hubster, S1, S2, S1GF and I (holding ice pack to my face) assembled in the lobby at the appointed time and after a few minutes discover that the hotel had forgotten to arrange a car for us. They hurriedly called for a cab, told us they would be there in 20 minutes, and an hour later we finally get a car and we are off. It was a bit frenzied, but our driver sped as much as he could and we made our flight and happily landed on the European continent a few hours later.   Will Europe be good to us? Do we have more issues with cars and drivers? Will we all still like each other by the end? Is my nose broken? Stay tuned.

S2 and me in front of Hassam II Mosque

Fruit for dessert in Berber Village

Tagine with great veggies from local souk

Berber lunch!

Me very afraid on high rock

L to R: S1GF, S1, hubster, me, S2