Sunday, March 6, 2011


So, this may be a little wordy, because lots has happened, and I've been negligent about updating this.

First of all, let's talk Morocco:

My travels to Morocco started early last Saturday morning, when I got up, grabbed my bag, and headed to Plaza de Cuba to wait for my bus. After embarking on the bus, and watching a very, very, *VERY* drunk, shirtless man walk* (read as: stagger/waver/almost fall) around the Plaza, we headed off towards Gibraltar.

Gibraltar is physically in Spain, but actually belongs to the UK, which makes for a very interesting mix of cultures. :D Gibraltar is also known as "The Rock", which has significantly less Sean Connery than you may originally assume. Anyway, it's aptly named, since it happens to be...a giant rock. With monkeys at the top. Go figure.

Everyone in Gibraltar speaks perfect Spanish and English, and there are loads of British pubs and chip shops. I managed to pick up a box of Ty-phoo tea for the roommate at home, which is awesome. Anyway, my group of friends decided to grab breakfast at an Irish pub, where there was eggs and soda bread and fish and chips had by all.

After Gibraltar, we headed to the bus again, off to Algeciras, where we took the ferry to Ceuta, which is Spanish owned territory next to Morocco. Cueta was gorgeous, and we drove up the steep hills to stand at the top and take a break and take pictures. 

SPEAKING OF PICTURES. I have actually very few of my own pictures, since, like a *moron* I forgot my camera card. Yeah, yeah, I know. There are pictures on FB that I'm tagged in, and I plan on stealing a bunch of them. 

This is right around the part in the trip where I developed a headache that I couldn't shake. I think it was part dehydration, heat, and being tired, but it made me kind of grumpy and taciturn. Thus, I plugged Garcia (new iPod after Patrick died. ;__;) and kept to myself for a while. No need to unleash my grumpiness on others. 

Anyway, (after some period of hurry-up-and-wait) we got back on the buses, and headed to the border. At this point, I can't really describe the scenery, since it was getting dark. It is also prohibited from taking pictures at the border, something they apparently take very seriously, and no one was dumb/brave enough to try it. I do kind of wish we could have taken pictures, because we totally saw some people border hopping. !! All  sneaky like, these guys would slip down down from their perch on the side of the hill, hop up around this little building, over the fence, and then slip down the wall. We saw two or three guys successfully get into Cueta this way. 

Moving on, we headed to our hotel, called Dreams Hotel, which was really quite lovely. After a break to freshen up, we went to dinner. Food was bread, soup, and chicken with lemons and olives (which is apparently a pretty standard dish, since we ended up having it twice). Dessert was flan. 

Dinner was also really long- like two hours. Mostly because there were a lot of people, but service was generally slow. It didn't make for too much fun for me, since my head was still hurting pretty badly. However, my friend Michael is pretty much a hero, and gave me two Advil after dinner. 

After drugging myself, I pretty much faceplanted my bed, and remained there for a few hours. 

The next morning, we ate breakfast and then headed to a wonderful town called Chefchaouen. Everything in the town is blue and white, seen here, courtesy of Google images: 

It's kind of ridiculously pretty, and the people were absolutely amazingly friendly. We spent a few hours there, I ended up splashing around in their small waterfall, where they wash clothes and goof off in, fun was had by all, etc. 

After Chefchouan, we headed back to our first city, T├ętouan. After lunch (more chicken and olives) we went on tour of the city, going through the markets and getting a small demonstration at a apothecary/herbalist shop. There, I scored some saffron for Mom, and got a massage. Win. 

After our tour, it was time to head to our last destination, Tangiers. Sadly, we didn't actually get to see much of Tangiers. Our last night in Morocco, we saw a show involving traditional Moroccon warriors on horseback, and then ate dinner. During dinner, we saw a bunch of really cool acts-- a magician, a two contortionist children, and a belly dancer. 

With dinner concluded, we partied it up at the club next door to the hotel. It was a lot of fun, lots of dancing and good times. 

The next morning, (which came a little too early for pretty much everyone involved) we got back on the bus, sat on the bus for thirty minutes whilst seating confusion occurred and whiny people were whiny, and then headed off for specific locations. 

First, we went to the spot where the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean meet, which was pretty cool. After than, we headed to a spot where we would get to ride camels. While one group got their camel ride, the other group could go down to the beach, and get their feet wet in the Atlantic.

At this particular point, I must add a disclaimer, and that disclaimer is, SOMETIMES I AM NOT SO BRIGHT.

You will see the reason for this in a moment. Ahem. So, I was in the second group, so while the first group waited, I was stood at the top of the hill to watch the ocean, etc. I SHOULD NOTE THAT ORIGINALLY, I WAS NOT PLANNING ON GOING DOWN TO THE SHORE. Alas, my first instincts were not the ones I eventually went with, and I ended up heading down to the shore. 

Things I took with me to the shore: my purse, and my shoes. The leather Hollister flipflops that I stole from Colin. Things that I should have left at the bottom of the stairs to the beach: See above. 

As I stood at the shore, I honestly thought that I was out of the zone of *actually getting wet*. It turns out that I was *honestly wrong* about that part. One moment I laughing, because, hey, whatever, I don't really care, and then I realise that ONE OF MY SHOES HAS JUST COME OFF. That's right, off, as in, heading back into the Atlantic Ocean. 

After a moment of being stunned, I threw both purse and other shoe further up the shore, and waded into the ocean to get my other shoe back.

This adventure concludes in me being wet from the upper thighs down, with soaked shoes, and (since, apparently, not being a good thrower comes with mild idiocy) a damp purse. Everything in my purse was fine, except for my Spanish phone, which won't turn on. Granted, it was acting weird prior to the beach incident, but I digress. 

ANYWAY, I managed to get my camel ride, and then get back on the bus, now approximately 40% more wet than coming off of it. After a short trip, we concluded our Moroccan trip with a visit to the Hercules Cave. Which looks like this:

  It is incredibly difficult to get a photo of, since it's totally back lit, but it was really, really lovely. Also at the Hercules Cave, I paid a euro to use a "bathroom" (read as: ungodly smelling hole in the ground) and change my clothes. 

And that, friends...pretty much sums up Morocco. It was unbelievably beautiful and wonderful, and I wish I could have stayed longer than three days. 

However, last Tuesday was the first day of real classes, and some things just can't be avoided. I think I'm going to make a separate post for this past week though, so look out for that tomorrow or sometime. 

I'll update it, I promise. 




  1. AHHH. You got to ride a Camel! Too cool. I didn't know Camels were prevalent in Spain.

    ~* the more you know *~

    Also - that whole seaside story - typical Morgan. "Let's go to King's Dominion! AH my shoes! AH my contact!" I would have been worried of that HADN'T happened =]

  2. ...Yeah, you know, with that perspective, it really isn't all that surprising, really. XD

    I don't think they do have camels in Spain. We were in Morocco, which is part of Africa. :)