Amanda beat me to the punch and got the first word in about our Morocco trip but while she was getting hassled and taken advantage of (monetarily speaking) by Moroccan men, Mark and I had one of the best days ever spent out of the United States in a small town called Chefchaouen. But I'll get to that in due time.
BONUS: I learned how to add some pics to spice up the blog so hopefully you'll have a better idea of what Morocco was like for us. When Marc adds his pictures to facebook, you'll see get to see the awesomeness that is town of Chefchaouen.
6:15 am was the wake-up call for Friday morning but even with a 3 hour bus ride to Madrid and a 40 minute ride on the metro (their subway system), spirits were high as me, Evelyn, Karen and Amanda entered the terminal and met the 8 other members of our group.
ASIDE: NEVER AGAIN will I travel in a group bigger than six. It's not that I didn't like the people on our group at all, in fact I liked pretty much everyone that was there, but, as the girls for sure can tell you, traveling with such a big group is a logistical nightmare. It's impossible to please everyone, different people want to do different things, and naturally some people get excluded when it comes to times for meals and excursions. For anyone reading this blog planning to do some traveling of their own. Take this advice to heart.
So, as Amanda already wrote, our flight was delayed between 3-4 hours which was not the ideal start to what would be, for some, a stressful trip. Mark and I even bought a little flask of Jameson at the Duty Free but when I was about to take a sip, I noticed the receipt which said: "It is illegal to consume this beverage until you reach your destination country." The airlines are experts at aggravating passengers. I could rant about the airline companies and how much I loathe them but I don't have the time, and this is hardly the forum. Maybe next post...
Keely, Laura, Jessica and Maddy waiting in the airport for four hours.
So we reached Morocco but our hotel we were staying in, Hotel Tarik (named after the Muslim general who invaded Spain in 711 AD), requires you to pick up vouchers from a travel agency before you can check in. In most places, this wouldn't be a big inconvenience, but in Morocco, this could not have been any harder. Once our group arrived (in 3 separate taxis), we had to ask for directions in a mix of Spanish and French before we found the place.
I was expecting Tangiers, where we stayed, to be filled with sand dirt roads but the city was surprisingly Cosmopolitan. It actually looked a lot like Tel-Aviv, big buildings with a main strip right on the beach, clubs and restaurants everywhere. They even had a two story McDonalds featuring the "McArabia." Don't you love cultural imperialism?
A small picture of Tangiers
After securing our vouchers, the travel agent told us to walk along the main strip and we'd find the hotel in about "12-15 minutes." I don't know if this guy had ever been to the hotel, or was converting minutes to Dirham minutes (the Moroccan currency) or something like that, but we walked for a full hour (without getting lost) before we found the place. There was literally nothing there except the beach.
After a nice dinner (pizza and mint tea for me)and some resting in the hotel room, spirits were restored and we went to bed early with growing excitement for the one full day we'd have in Arica.
From green shirt to black jacket: (Mark Me, Laura, Maddy, Keely, Evelyn)
Here's where my story differs from that of Amanda's. As I said before, it's nearly impossible to do a trip with 12 people since everyone wants to do different things, or in this case, too many people wanted to do the same thing so we had to split up. Four girls went to the Medina (market) in Tangiers, 6 girls went to the beach town of Asila for the day, and me and Mark, being the only two guys and the most ambitious, decided to take a 2.5 hour excursion (that's 2.5 hours, one way of driving) to the mountain town of Chefchaouen.
For 20 euro we were driven there and back along with 6 other Spaniards on vacation from Andalucia (southern spain), and given a guided tour of the town all day. Though the Spaniards were hard to understand (the Andalucian accent is very difficult, even for Spaniards) they were very cool and looking to have a good time like us.
Chefchaouen is built into a set of cliffs in the Rif mountains, and looks like something out of Lord of the Rings (Minas Tirith? or maybe star wars.) Either way it was like stepping back in time: No cars, few, if any women outside, no TVs, narrow and dirty street, and a general lack of infrastructure. During our day there, we heard the muslim call to prayer from the Mezquita 3 of the 5 times it happens each day.
Our driver dropped us off with our guide named Achmed, a small wizened old man, who wore a fez and seemed to know everyone in the city of about 45,000 people. Though we didn't notice it at first, he walked around the entire day with a pinch of snuff on his hand which he was snorting up his nose periodically as he walked us through town. After about an hour, his nostrils and upper lip was brown from the stuff. Hopefully Mark will upload his pictures and post them as a supplement to this entry.
The only negative part of our Chefchaouen experience came when Achemd brought us into a rug shop to supposedly "show us how the rugs were made." It turned into 30 minutes of awkwardness as the proprietors of said shop showed us their wares and pressured us into buying something. We were finally allowed to leave when one of the couples caved after bartering for a 30 euro rug.
After walking around the city until 2:30pm, the eight of us (achmed didn't eat with us) went for lunch at an authentic Moroccan restaurant called Cafe Hassan. It was a little pricey, 12 euro for a meal, but the food was well received and Mark and I got some more delicious mint tea, the drink of choice for most Moroccans.
After lunch, our group was granted access, with Achmed's help, to the roof of this restaurant for what can only be described as one of the best hour's I've spent in my life. The sun was shining on us on us, we drank some more mint tea, had a beautiful view of the city, took some great pictures, and Mark and I bonded with the Spaniards over some of Chefchaouen's famous local delicacies.
The rest of the day was spent checking out the markets in town, buying cool sweatshirts like this one, 
(that's Mark) and walking around an ancient walled garden. Needless to say, by the time we got back to the hotel around 7:30pm, we were very satisfied with our day.
The next day was your basic traveling until we got to Madrid and the 12 of us finally split up to get back to Salamanca in whatever ways we had planned.
ASIDE: Contrary to all Midnight Express beliefs about the strictness of Moroccan police and security, the airport security was so lax it was startling. There was barely a bag check, one metal detector, few glances at my passport. Either way we all made it back without ending up in jail for ten years.
So once we all split up, me Amanda and Evelyn arranged to spend the day in Madrid and catch a 7:30 pm bus out of the city, giving us around 6 hours of free time. After a disappointing lunch we found this incredibly cool market with fresh food (breads, shellfish, sushi, gourmet pizza, candy and an equal amount of wine and beer stations.) Here's a picture of us inside the market:
Suddenly out of money, we walked to the Plaza Mayor, tried to take pictures with a guy in a mickey mouse costume, and filmed Evelyn and Amanda doing some not-so-sober one-handed cartwheels over across the cold stone pavement of the plaza.
Amanda and Evelyn with Mickey in the background
Somehow we made it to the bus with 4 minutes to spare where I promptly fell asleep until the bus pulled into the bus station in Salamanca.
So that was our trip in brief, without the excruciating minutiae of every single boring minute and this post is still spilling over into its 4th page. Thanks for being so patient with my infrequent yet lengthy musings loyal readers (all 5 of you.) I think I may have actually gotten my internet working but with Cadiz for Carnaval coming up this weekend I don't see myself posting anything new between now and next Monday.
Hasta luego,
-Corey
Words of the week- In honor of Morocco here are some commonplace spanish words taken from Arabic:
Almohada- PillowAlfombra- Rug
Alcazar-Palace
Aceituna-Olive
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