After a long Day 7 that left us drifting into humid sleep in Algeciras, we awoke to exciting thoughts of crossing the Strait of Gibralter by ferry...to Africa! I had yearned for an Amazing Race-like moment at some point in our trip, and I finally got my wish. Our leisurely stroll down to the Port of Algeciras quickly become a mad dash from the ticket counter, up escalators, through a couple of checkpoints, and down three long hallways to a ferry that was due to leave in 5 minutes. The scheduled departure time came,... and went..., and we soon realized our first cultural lesson of the day when the ferry set out to sea a 1/2 hour later. JUST CHILL.
During our 1.5 hours on the water, announcements in Arabic, French, Spanish, and English -- all by the same woman -- reminded us to have our passports stamped by the Moroccan police onboard before arrival. Our encounter with the officers was mostly cordial, except for the odd questioning about whether my husband and I were siblings due to having the same last name; and where my American-born Korean beau was really from..."no, really."
When we arrived at the Port of Tangier in Morocco, we immediately knew that we had been transported into another world. Animated conversations, mostly in Arabic with a smattering of French, surrounded us, along with dusty streets and stone buildings in the shadow of the towering mosque nearby. We hailed a "petit taxi", the smaller -- and cheaper -- of the two types of taxis that zip through downtown Moroccan streets. "Bonjour Monsieur. Parlez-vous francais?" (Do you speak French?) -- I asked through the window of the red Datsun. "Oui," came the drawled reply. We then haggled a 20-dirham ride down to 10 dirhams (or US$1.20) and were soon speeding to the Tangier train station, dodging donkey-drawn carts along the way.
"Snapshots" of images at the station and subsequent train ride:
- The pleasant Moroccan (who bore a strikingly dreamy resemblance to Terrence Howard) who advised us to tip the woman sitting outside the restroom 1 dirham before going in.
- The "helpful" porter who showed us to our train seats, then kept his palm outstretched until my guy dropped enough coins into it.
- The abundance of trash and fighting wild dogs along the train tracks.
- Beautiful rolling hills in the distance, occasionally dotted with sheep, donkeys, and cows escorted by a young shepherd.
Three hours later, we climbed down the train in Kenitra, dusty and fatigued. And that was just the first day of our Moroccan adventure.
1 comment:
TIA! This is Africa! - A
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