Morocco

Morocco has been near the top of "most excited to visit" countries for a while. Jen and Chris spent a month traveling the country in 2001. We most remember the food being excellent and that the country has such a wide and deep variety of sights and experiences. Morocco still feels like Africa especially outside of Casablanca, but it also feels slightly European too. They kept the religion and alphabet of the Arabs after that empire faded away and built a country that is wholly it's own. 

 

We were also excited to arrive in Morocco and have the chance to connect with some more friends from Fort Collins. Upon arrival, we immediately departed via train from Casablanca for Marrakesh, our favorite Moroccan city, where we checked into our Airbnb.

 

    

 

 

There had been a terrible (non-covid) cold going around the ship and Jen wasn't feeling too great.

 

 

 

 

A traditional Moroccan riad, it was 3 floors of house centered around a small courtyard with an open air roof. It did rain a little and it was strange getting rained on going from your bedroom to the bathroom. Having a kitchen was a bonus (maybe a necessity) because it was the holy month of Ramadan for Morocco and the rest of the Islamic world which meant that most Moroccan people didn’t eat while the sun was up. We were a little concerned initially about what this might mean for our family given that our kids eat roughly every 5 minutes.  That said, ultimately visited during Ramadan ended up being a really cool experience. 

 

One of the most interesting things was observing the evening ritual as sundown approached. Sunset was around 6:45pm and around 4pm people started moving around the city in preparation. People had food to deliver and pick up so they could all be with their families for the breaking of the fast. By 5:30pm the city is a frenzy of motorbikes whizzing through narrow streets so all could be on time. At sundown the call to prayer alerted the city that the fast had concluded. The call to prayer in a Muslim country is a really amazing thing to have the chance to hear. The call in Marrakesh, which is densely populated with many mosques located together, is particularly mesmerizing. As mosque after mosque announces “Allah Akbar” a cascade of praise fills the city.  It’s beautiful. 

 

For the next 30 minutes to an hour the city became completely quiet as people broke their fast, taking in their first food and drink with people who were close to them. Shops and restaurants all came to a halt. On any typical moment, and particularly in the evening, I would describe Marrakesh as one of the liveliest places on earth --- noise, smells, chatter, traffic, people, monkeys, salespeople, and snakes all intermingle. The quiet, therefore, felt particularly sacred. And then, after all had eaten and prayed, the city busted alive with vibrant energy from 8pm on.  

 

One of the signature memories from the last time Jen and Chris had been to Morocco was of the many, MANY, juice sellers in the main square of Marrakesh. There are perhaps 40 juice sellers all lined up together, though in our memories it was easily 100. They all sell the exact same thing made the exact same way. So the only way to differentiate was pure personality. And effort. Boy, they make a lot of effort to gain your attention (and money).  

 

 

 

 

 

After all these years, man, the juice is still great!

 

 

 

Rigley had been wanting to try out some henna for a while on the trip and in the main square they have all the henna people anyone could ask for. 

 

 

 

It must be about 4pm in the photo above as the street food is cranking up. These folks made plain bread, bread with onions baked in, and some sort of sardine mixture. We opted for a few loaves of plain and onion bread to go with our dinner that night. 

 

 

 

Croatia has waterfalls, and Morocco has markets. Get ready for more than a few market pictures. They sell literally everything and as much as the markets are for tourists, the markets overlap with all the things any local Moroccan would need as well. 

 

On day two we were anxious to hang out with Chris’s bestie from Fort Collins, Mark Benn (otherwise known as “funny Mark” by the Johnson-Leck offspring). Mark loves to travel and tries to leave the U.S. at least once a year to explore new places.  He was joined by two of his adult children, Beth and Andrew, and his bestie from Philly, Stumpy. We met Mark, family, and Stumpy in their riad and headed out to wander the market together.

 

 

You can wander for days without ever seeing the same market stall. Mark shopped for local art (his souvenir of choice from his travels), Stumpy wandered off taking pictures of everything around us, and Rachel/Andrew brainstormed ideas for their new blog, “Boomers in the wild.” The Benn fam and Stumpy were still pretty jet lagged from their travel, so we wandered and wandered to keep everybody awake, periodically stopping for the requisite food and mint tea, always loaded with sugar (“the Berber way”). 

 

 

 

 

At night we decided to eat on the plaza after the fast broke. Per usual, the plaza was hopping -- juice stands, pop up restaurants, salespeople, tourists, drums, motor bikes, monkeys, and more – truly one of the liveliest places on earth with an extra celebratory vibe after the break of fast during Ramadan. Restaurateurs shout, clap, and sing to try to convince patrons to sit at their stall. One of my favorite sales pitches went something like this “It’s all the same shit. Our shit gave no one diarrhea in 5 years.”

 

Well….that’s something! We picked one, and were quickly loaded down with all types of Moroccan delights. It turns out that Billy Jean King was in town for a tennis tournament hosted by the Moroccan King. Can you spot her in the crowd?  

 

 

 

 

 

When we sat down to order we were pretty specific about who was vegetarian, who is deathly allergic to shellfish, etc, etc. They didn't care. They brought us a little of everything and the kitchen sink and then gave us a HUGE bill when it was all done. Our fault for not drilling down harder at the very beginning. Wally basically lost his bananas and had to be dragged away after he started yelling at people about being ripped off.  

The Benn crew and Stumpy opted to sleep in on Day three and we decided to try to visit a Botanical Garden we had our eye on. Remember that cold Jen came to Morocco with? Well, now Guthrie had it and he was coughing up phlegm and his nose was running like crazy. We thought we'd do a little walk, see a garden, and then come home and take a nap. Another part of this story is that none of us (other than Chris) has had any kind of haircut since the voyage started. Guthrie, in particular, was starting to look like a blond headed troll doll. It was time to get a cut. While on the way to the Botanical Garden we saw a barbershop and pulled in. The shop was run by a father/son team, neither of whom spoke any English. The language barrier was no problem, though, we just showed them a picture of our desired outcome. The dad was finishing up with another customer, so the son (probably age 18/19) started with Guthrie. We could tell he was being super careful, just taking a little hair using a clippers. At this pace the haircut would last approximately 2hrs so we settled in. What's the worst that could happen?

 

 

 

 

 

At this point Guthrie looks back to us in distress and promptly vomits all over his bib and into the sink in front of him.  Ughhhh. He had swallowed so much mucus his stomach just couldn't handle it. Head half cut, Chris and I apologized profusely, trying to look up “we’re soo soo sorry” on google translate English-Arabic. They refused to allow us to leave and kept saying "No problem" over and over. The teen cleaned the vomit, I searched for water, and the dad barber moved Guthrie into his chair. From that point forward, he clipped at lightning speed, completing his work with a straight razor to make the neckline and ear line--without question the best haircut Guthrie has ever had.  

 

They even went and got a fresh bib with the American flag on it.  

 

 

 

Jen and Guthrie headed immediately back to the airbnb to rest and recover while Chris and the big kids went out for tea. Moroccan tea is the real deal. We even bought some tea glasses to bring home so if you come over some time we can make you some if mint continues to take over our garden at home. 

 

 

 

Rigley, Wally, and Chris also went to The Secret Garden which is a quiet place right in the middle of a sea of markets.

 

 

 

 

 

Jen and Chris traded places and it was time for more market wandering with Mark, Beth, Andrew, and Stumpy. 

 

 

 

 

 

They ended up at a French restaurant called Fluffy. Our big kids really enjoyed hanging out with them, especially Andrew and Beth who are both funny, charismatic, honest, and use a lot of cuss words. After that, it was time to say goodbye. They were headed off for a desert trek and the JL crew was headed for the mountains and some more waterfalls. 

 

It was a three hour ride from Marrakesh to our destination through some amazingly beautiful scenery – green hills, small Berber villages, and lots and lots of sheep and their herders. And then, up into the mountains.

Jen started getting queasy even before the halfway mark. The windy roads accompanied by some lingering congestion from her cold, plus high speeds, lead to some really serious carsickness. Grateful to finally arrive, we all thought it would pass with some fresh air and walking, but after sitting and breathing for a few minutes, she still felt terrible. 

 The first stop on the tour was to a Berber village where women did a small demonstration of how they processed nuts and other products the areas around their village. Our guide plopped Jen down on a couch near the demonstration and instructed her to lay there, saying the women would “take care” while the rest of the group proceeded with the tour. 

Jen: I was so grateful to be able to lay down (and be close to a toilet) that I didn’t worry too much at first about the larger situation at hand, mainly that I was now laying down, sick, basically front and center in the middle of every presentation the Berber women did to the groups of tourists rolling through at 15 minute intervals. Hundreds of people from all over the world came through to see the demonstration and wonder what the hell that white lady was doing passed out on a couch. Traveling at times can be really humbling, and this was my moment. It took me four full hours to recover (dreading getting back into the car every minute of my rest). 

Meanwhile, Chris and the kids went on the hike to the waterfall.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The waterfall was impressive, but what was really fun were the row boats that take you up close and personal. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a gorgeous day so the spray from the waterfall was perfect. 

Next was a great lunch overlooking the waterfall. It was probably the best authentically Moroccan food we had the whole time. We had the vegetarian tajine and couscous and even then kids loved it. A little more tea and then back on the trail to hike back to the van. And to check on Jen.

But first...

 

 

 

A group of monkeys had taken up residence here. Mice view and plenty of tourists to beg from. And, there was a baby monkey!

 

 

 

On the way back we moved Jen up to the front seat. Some French people happily gave up there primo spot in the van because everyone was nervous to get back in with someone looking so green. The drive home at the beginning was pretty rough as we made our way out of the most mountainous areas, but fortunately once things flattened out closer to Marrakesh, Jen actually started to feel better. We concluded the evening as we always did in Marrakesh with a mesmerizing call to prayer, followed by some dinner (this time some home-cooked pasta enjoyed in our riad after a long day of adventuring). 

We started the morning with a traditional Moroccan hammam (bath). In the olden days, and like many places around the world, the hammam was the public bath. Jen and Chris went to one 20 years ago where they had separate areas for men and women. It was kind of like a luke warm pool where people walked around and scraped skin and dirt off your body with a petrified loofah mixed with sandpaper. 

This time around, we found a great place called Isis, which catered to families. We could all stay together and they did one family at a time. In the locker room, we were instructed to strip down to our undies and put on robes and head to the large room where the bath would happen. The kids were pretty nervous about what was to come – being half clothed typically magnifies anxiety 😊. We instructed them to just “go with it.” 

 

 

 

The bathing room was filled with benches made out of a plastic fabric. Warm water poured into a sink. Three ladies took turns dumping buckets of warm water on our bodies and rubbing us down with soap. After getting soaped up, they used a super-scrapy loofah glove to rub off a small person’s worth of dead skin from each of our bodies. LOL. Then they covered us in some kind of sand mixture which they let sit on our bodies while the room filled with steam. After about 15 minutes of waiting, the women came back to douse us again with buckets of warm water and instructed us to head for our massages.  We were like newborn babies with super soft and clean skin! 

Each of us then enjoyed a 45 minute massage in 3 different massage rooms (Chris solo, Rig/Wall together, Guth/Jen together).  This was the first time that any of the kids had ever experienced a professional massage.  After it was done, Guthrie says, “What country are we in?  (Morocco). “Ok, Morocco is my favorite.”  A full body experience never disappoints that guy. 

After we all finished our massages, we were escorted to a lounging room where we were covered in blankets and treated to the requisite mint tea – yes, loaded with enough sugar to induce an diabetic coma. The kids were completely delighted with the experience.

 

 

 

Before our next activity we needed to head back to a restaurant we found previously that served amazing Lebanese food. 

 

 

 

A quick jaunt through the spice market to get to a jewelry maker who was going to teach our family how he makes some of the pieces of jewelry. 

 

 

 

He was unbelievable kind and patient with us. He was also a gifted artist. His dad was an artisan, and now he had picked up the trade. He said that while covid was really hard financially, it really allowed him to hone his craft and improve his techniques.

 

 

 

Each of us was given a small piece of metal and instructed to  pick a design – Rig and I picked different versions of the hand of Fatima, Chris picked an 8 pointed Arab star, Wally choose to have WJL written in Arabic and Guth chose to have his name in Arabic.  Our teacher taught us how to use a tiny saw to cut out the negative spaces, leaving the design we desired. 

 

 

We sawed away for quite some time getting our pieces cut out. Then we finished the pieces with extra details, stamping, and sanding down rough edges. All pleased with our pieces, we headed to his shop to see some of his other work, including metal signs and other jewelry, and to get cords fastened to our pieces.  Wally especially enjoyed the experience. The teacher commented multiple times about how he was impressed by Wally’s manual skills. I think Wally appreciated being good at something, and also the positive feedback. Guthrie got to staff the shop for a few minutes while we waited, but you didn't make any sales.

 

 

 

That evening we took the train back to Casablanca. Chris started on-call the next day so we had to say goodbye to Marrakesh. The train seemed to be absolutely packed with people from Semester at Sea. It almost felt like a party.

 

On our last day in Morocco we opted to explore a little bit of Casablanca.  The best part of the whole city, which is kind of an ugly industrial port city despite the allure of the movie, is the Hassan II Mosque.

 

 

 

Depending on the source, it’s known as the 5th (or 3rd, or 7th) largest mosque in the world. It’s open to the public during certain times of the day, even during Ramadan. It is an absolutely beautiful building which sits right on the shore of the Atlantic Ocean.

 

 

 

It can accommodate 25,000 worshipers on the inside (5000 women in the balcony and 20,000 men on the main level) and 80,000 worshipers on the nearby outdoor plaza.

 

 

 

 

 

The basement of the building is filled with fountains for washing. We were able to hop into an English language tour and learn about the beautiful artisan work and materials of the mosque, all of which were from Morocco (except the chandeliers, which came from Italy).

 

 

 

 

 

From there we walked to a nearby mall to find some lunch. One thing we have learned is that mall food courts around the world are a surefire win for lunch time. Unsurprisingly the only places that were open were McDonalds, Pizza Hut, and Baskin Robbins (insert a ton of gratitude for people who work in food service during the holy month – yikes, hard job). We ordered something from all three places.  The mall had a curly slide from the 2nd level of the to the main level. Unsurprisingly the boys made circuits on the loop, thankfully burning off a little bit of energy. They only got yelled at once by the security guard = win. 

Prior to getting on the ship, we visited the local market to do a little last-minute shopping. Weird looking doll heads were a real specialty in this part of Morocco.

  

 

 

Morocco really delivered. The sights and food were great, but what really stuck out this time was the warmth and generocity of all the people we interacted with. Market sellers, cab drivers, tour guides, random helpful people in the markets, everyone. 

 

 

 

Everything about Semester at Sea is in high gear. Busy and intense. Only 2 days of sailing to Lisbon, 6 to Germany and it's all over. Time is really flying.