One word: Morocco.

Hello gente!

Last week I did something very spontaneous... I went to AFRICA. Well, it's not actually as crazy/dramatic as it sounds. I traveled (with just one "L") to Morocco, which for all intents and purposes is Spain's neighbor. The maritime distance between the tip of Spain (cities like Tarifa and Algeciras) and the tip of Morocco is some 14 km (or 8.7 miles if you prefer to stick to the good old English system like me). A surprise holiday is what prompted the whole thing. I don't work Fridays (or Mondays, usually. lol) and I found out that last Thursday was a holiday, San Pedro Regalado. I didn't know this because it's only celebrated in the city of Valladolid, thus it does not appear on the Junta de Castilla y León school calendar. Surprise! With a 5 day weekend (okay, that's a week really) I couldn't pass up the opportunity to travel somewhere new and exciting. Lindsay and I had really been wanting to do one last trip together but I didn't think it would work out. So, when I told her I had a mini vacation she said "We have to go to Morocco!" To which I replied "OK!" Again, I swear this is not as crazy as it sounds. A lot of Moroccan people live in Spain and a lot of Spaniards travel to Morocco (Tunisia and Egypt as well--maybe next year!) so the big cities are just the right amount of "touristy" to be safe for an impromptu vacation (if you use some common sense) but not as annoyingly touristy as some places can be.

Anyway, Lindsay and I met at the Madrid airport and hopped on one of those lovely low cost flights to Marrakech. (For her it actually would have made a bit more sense to hop on the ferry and cross the straight of Gibraltar but we wanted to go "juntas"). When we arrived it was like nothing I ever imagined to see in my lifetime.

First of all, in contrast in Sub-Saharan Africa, North Africa is really part of the Arab world, so stepping off the plane and seeing everything written in Arabic was kind of a weird. Morocco is a former colony of France so most people speak French as well. I was going to say "luckily for us..." but I don't know how lucky it was considering my pathetic French speaking capabilities, but more on that later. Right off the bat the bargaining began... with a taxi driver to take us to the city center. We were warned time and again that although there are plenty of honest people in Marrakech, most of them try to rip you off. So, I whipped out the amazing "regateando" (haggling) skills I picked up in Bolivia. And we ended up taking the bus.

Riding into the city I was in shock. I'd only ever seen places like Morocco in the movies,

so I felt like I was in one... at the foothills of the Atlas Mountain range with little boys playing soccer on dirt fields and veiled women riding their bicycles into town. The city itself is was so exotic, divided into the old fortified "medina" and the adjacent modern city called Gueliz. Once we were in the medina we found (rather, stumbled upon, since it's impossible not to get lost in the winding streets) a nice hotel to stay in. The owner was very kind and let us practice our French and Arabic skills on him. (Thank God he spoke English!)

We spent the next two days exploring the old medina whose main sights, besides just the streets themselves, include the Place Djemaâ el Fna (the largest plaza/square in Africa) and the souks (incredible labyrinth like street markets).

There was just so much to look at. And I loved seeing how the people go about their business in the square. We also explored the more modern parts of Marrakesh and it's really interesting just how diverse it is. To me the diversity became evident from the way women were dressed. Some wore head veils (called a hijab), some wore the hijab and a veil that also covered their faces (called a niqāb) and some wore nothing at all. I liked seeing the differences because a lot of times I think that Westerners mistakenly believe that in any country where they practice Islam all the women are forced to wear burqas or something, and it's not really like that.

One of my favorite moments in Marrakech was sitting on the rooftop patio at our hotel and listening to the call to prayer. It was so eerie. All the mosques have loudspeakers throughout the city so it's as if the medina becomes almost haunted, for lack of a better word. We stayed up there watching the sun go down.

And then the two boys who worked in the hotel made us some mint tea and whipped out their guitars. And a bongo! It was an impromptu musical performance, and very cool one at that. We had a lot of difficulty communicating with them due to our overall lack of French, Arabic and Berber language skills but it was still a really good time. Bold Lindsay tried out all three languages with the boys and it was such a hoot. I think the funniest was when the littler one asked her "Do you want to meet a Berber?" (being his friend, who was of the Berber people) and Lindsay thinking in Spanish (Berber sounds like "beber" which means "to drink") said in French, "no, thank you." We all just about died laughing. I think I had tears in my eyes.

After our good times in Marrakesh we caught the train to Casablanca. Yes, THE Casablanca. It's not only the biggest city in Morocco but home to the third largest mosque in the world, Mosquée Hassan II; also, one of only two mosques in Morocco where non-Muslims are allowed to enter. Unfortunately, we didn't arrive on time for the tourist visits. But just seeing it from the outside I was amazed.

It's a mosque with the typical minaret and base but there are also fountains and plazas and enormous metal doors, all of which are very ornate, so it seems like more of a complex than anything. But it's truly awe inspiring. And I forgot to mention that it overlooks the ocean, so that only adds to the effect. I sat down on some steps and just took it all in. There was a very holy sense about that place. In the end I got this feeling that we all are praying to the same God. Pretty powerful stuff.

After the amazing mosque and a night in the famous city we caught another train to the capital of Rabat. Traveling by train was also another neat experience. If you happen to get on a train where there are compartments (as opposed to rows of seats) perfect strangers cheerfully chat in a variety of languages and offer one another food and drink. I loved it. I also loved Rabat.

It was a beautiful city with another labyrinth of interesting souks to wander through. My favorite part was the Chellah ruins, remnants of the most ancient human settlement in that area, probably Phoenician or Carthaginian. After we explored the remains of the ancient castle on Monday morning, it was time to take our last Moroccan train to the airport and head back to the peninsula. I was sad to leave Morocco and really happy that I went in the first place (thanks for convincing me to not be a sissy, Linds!)