The city, normally gorgeous, was littered with garbage and the street-sweeping crew was out in full force. Apparently we missed the most epic party of the week the night before, and now the whole city was turning out in their best clothes for a massive procession! We were salmon flowing against the stream as we made our way to the bus station. Semana Santa is, without doubt, an activity for the bucket list.
The trip south was pretty, though not nearly as remarkably so as southern Portugal, with exception to the stunning area just outside Tarifa. We were using a 2010 edition guidebook for the Europe part of this trip, and it turns out that was a mistake. For the ferry crossing to Tangier, Morocco, you want to cross from Tarifa, Spain on the 35 min passenger ferry (by FRS or Inter-Shipping), which costs you either your firstborn child or 65€ roundtrip. Algeciras is now the commercial ferry port, and connects to its Moroccan commercial counterpart of Tangier-Med that's still a ways away from Tangier.
(Note: Algeciras does, however, link to Ceuta, a Spain-owned portion of Moroccan, er...North African land near Tangier).
So we made the spontaneous (and correct) decision to get off early in Tarifa and catch our ferry from there. Described as a kite-surfer's paradise, the town definitely looked it, and had numerous shops catering to the industry. The port area was decent, however, and had a nice stone fortress we would've liked to explore. Instead, we sat at Olla, a restaurant with over-priced but delicious vegetable pasta, and used the wifi to plan out how to arrive in and navigate Tangier and Marrakech.
We also typed up Kendra's allergy to seafood and nuts in French and Arabic, which was really helpful as we'd show it to waiters and shopkeepers numerous times during the trip. Add the many stray cats and bee-covered sweets to the mix, and it's clear that Morocco is aiming to take Kendra out.
The high-speed ferry lived up to its name and put its hydrofoils to excellent use jetting across the straight. Walking towards the front, we randomly crossed to the opposite side of the ferry and sat next to a nice Moroccan couple. We would've never guessed it at the time, but this would be one of the best moments of the entire trip.
The couple, Fatima and Larbi, were actually Moroccan-Americans living in New York who were visiting Morocco and had spontaneously jumped up to Spain for the day. Getting to know them better, they spent half of the ferry ride walking us through Morocco and helping us shape our itinerary. They also gave us their contact information should we need any help while in-country. "What wonderful people!" we thought to ourselves. Little did we know, it would soon seem strange to write about them so impersonally as I am now, because they'd basically become our Moroccan family...
Exiting the ferry, tourists are met with a mob of unfortunately pushy touters, wanting to "guide you," change your money, or simply extort you in some fashion. Fatima and Larbi hung with us and acted as a Moroccan shield from them, then guided us down along the port walkway (about a half mile) to their friends at a nearby restaurant, Al Boughaz. This would be one of many lessons from them - make friends while traveling. Friends can help you when in need, and give you the opportunity to extend grace to others. Their friend Adil, the owner, directed us around the corner and up a steep hill to the nearest ATM where we could withdraw money, instead of having to deal with the hassle of exchanging money back at the ferry. They then invited us back to the restaurant (all of this walking and time during their limited vacation, of course), for some mint tea and maybe a snack at the restaurant.
Little did we know, the snack turned into a seafood feast with mint tea, bread, fries, salad, and giant platters of shrimp and fish. The salad is very unique, as it contains no lettuce, and instead has stripped lunch meat, boiled potatoes, olives and beets. We had a blast chatting with them and learning more about Morocco and their lives. We learned about how they left Morocco when they were recruited by Disney as cultural liaisons for Epcott (awesome), how Fatima makes a mean couscous, how Larbi takes his mint tea (no sugar), and so much more.
Just simply sharing tea with them was wonderful. Hundreds of years ago, a British ship hit a snag and was forced to pull into Morocco's port, selling its tea to the locals. Soon, mint was added and it became inextricably Moroccan, with mint tea time as Moroccan as a post-Tapas siesta is Spanish. The tea is served traditionally very sweet, and to order a pot of it, you say "bread atay."
With the sun beginning to set, Fatima and Larbi continued to astound us with their thoughtfulness by not only covering the meal ("We invited you as our guests") but also dropping us off at the train station via their hired driver! We met them as fellow travelers, but left considering them as though family, truly blessed by their generosity.
The night train no longer had first class tickets, a tragedy if one plans to actually sleep, so we opted for second class, knowing painfully well what waited ahead. Sometimes, you have to be uncomfortable to greatly enjoy yourself.
We discovered that the train was loading early by mere chance (no announcements), and found two seats on a plastic bench in a green-lit coach. Our restless night was full of incredibly loud announcements on a speaker system in French and Arabic, being awoken multiple times by the ticket checker, freezing cold air through paper-thin windows and repeated crying or cell phone ring tones and the subsequent loud talking.
Since we've done this before, it was like dropping into a trance - if you're new to this, you might consider delaying until better seats are available. Needless to say, you need ear plugs, eye covers, a blanket, and a serious amount of patience to come through in one piece, and we had almost all of those things...you can come to your own conclusions about how we felt in the morning. But no matter - we were in Marrakech, and the gateway to Africa was open wide.
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