I’ve wanted to visit Morocco for a long time. I didn’t expect to be entering the country on a converted 4×4 Bedford ex-army truck with 15 other adventurers. The ferry ride from Tarifa to Tangier was short and before long we had made our way to Chefchaouin. The blue city:
It’s been really nice to use my Arabic to find bathrooms, order food and buy fruits and vegetables, bread, kettles and spices. It surprises a lot of people and most already know I learnt it in Egypt. If they are educated they know Classical Arabic which is similar. There’s a few differences I’m enjoying finding out.
To make life easier with the chores and communal cooking Ryan drew names out of a hat for the rota. Five groups of three people rotating through cooking, truck, washing up, and camp duty and “donfi” which stands for day off not f’ing interested! It’s been working out ok with three days on each duty. We’ve been eating rice/pasta/couscous with vegetables etc. Cereal, porridge, bread and jam, and fruits for breakfast. Lunch is usually acquired in whatever town we are in or passing through. Plenty tagines and sandwiches.
Chefchaouin has been my favourite town so far. It’s not too big and only has one small touristy square where men try to entice you into their restaurant. The medina (old city centre) is painted beautiful blues and winds up and around and down again. The streets are small and pedestrian. Small shops selling blankets, trinkets, jewellery, paintings, beauty products etc. Cats running around, children playing.
After seeing the town we went up to the mosque where everyone seems to congregate at sunset. Teenagers playing drums and singing, men smoking and laughing. The views over the medina were stunning.
We only spent two nights here before loading the truck up again with our tables, chairs, tents and cooking equipment and hitting the road. To pass the time on the truck I’ve been colouring in my diary and I’ve done two sketches of Lukas and Jussi. I’ve also given a few felt tip pen tattoos and graffitied some positive words on the woodwork. There are a lot of good books people have to share and someone is always eating something!
On our way to Meknez we stopped at Volubilis an archeological site. Love a good photo bomb from Jussi there:
Abdul guided us through the ruins, telling stories of Roman people gorging on food and drink then using the lavatories and vomitariums.
On the 26th I entered my donfi duty and started the day with yoga and a hot shower. We departed at a reasonable 10am stopping at a supermarket where I got a green yoga mat to double as a sleeping mat. Anytime we stop somebody is playing something. Hackysack, football, stretching…
Our next stop was Fez. We set up camp then played volleyball until we lost the light. For the evening entertainment I introduced everyone that wasn’t on the wifi to the cardboard box game. I learnt it from Tabby my friend with the farm in the south of France. You take a box (we only had an empty litre of wine box), take off the top and you have to pick it up with your teeth. You can only touch the ground with the soles of your feet. Once everyone’s attempted, the next rounds see the box getting smaller and smaller. I’m with some very flexible and competitive people who took the game to a new level. They raised the ground they were standing on till finally the gymnast Maria won.
Then up top for panoramic views:
We visited a ceramics workshop which I enjoyed as I’d like to do an apprenticeship one day in pottery.
Then Idris guided us through the maze of the old medina stopping for strawberries and pancake bread.
I didn’t think much of the Argan oil cooperative, the prices were high. For lunch we went to a carpet place where I think the cheapest carpet was about 300€.
Bit expensive for a backpacker group. I waited outside the tannery as it smelt like death, watching the guys play a card game a bit like whist.
I experienced my first hamam on the 28th which cost 15 dirham (1.50€). I’m very British when it comes to nudity so being in a room with 15-20 half naked women is not something I’m used to or entirely comfortable with. None of us really knew what we were doing and the other women looked annoyed with us gibbering newbies. I don’t have the vocab in Arabic to ask what are we supposed to be doing and the acoustics in the dome roofed rooms which were all steamy made it very difficult to communicate. Going without my glasses further complicated things as I couldn’t see if people were talking to me.
We’d bought our olive oil paste soap but failed at bringing a small bucket to scoop the water and a mitt to scrub ourselves. The ladies tried to show us we needed to have two buckets of water you fill up in the far end. I still don’t know what temperatures each bucket are supposed to be. They were horrified when we asked if we could use the olive oil soap on our hair. Maria kindly went back to the changing rooms for her shampoo. I wished I’d declined when they asked if we wanted a massage. It was short, soft and not worth giving any money for. But they made us pay 20 dirhams (2€) nonetheless.
That afternoon I happily played frisbee fully clothed until Tom V provided us some entertainment. He’d slept outside and had been bitten in the night. A few jokes and he was convinced it was bedbugs and the only way to get rid of them is to boil all his clothes and bedding. We gave him the idea to fashion a leaf skirt and he embraced his inner tribesman.
The next day we packed up and headed out into the high Atlas Mountains. We found a derelict building and set our tents up in the empty rooms. I decided I’d try sleeping on the truck to see whether it was any warmer. It wasn’t. This was our first wild camping spot and the toilet shovel was christened.
This wasn’t the case the following day. On the 31st January at around 10.30am we were driving along a narrow bridge in Tinejdad. It was our right of way. An oncoming car decided to overtake the car in front of him and didn’t get back over in time. He hit our left wheel turning it to the left. The truck doesn’t have automatic steering so we flew off the bridge and with all the luck in the world landed on a dirt pile.
The truck’s a beast of a machine and she protected us as best she could. Gloria hurt a disc in her back and had to fly home for surgery. Jussi got a bang on the head and needed surgery on his thumb. Everyone else had a few scraps and bruises. My iPad mini screen smashed as I was writing my blog at the time. My diary got soup on and is unreadable in places. My camera flew from my bag and was under everything at our feet but appears not to have a scratch on it. The windscreen and front end is damaged as are a few bits under the truck. We still can’t believe how lucky we’ve been.
The police were very good and efficient at the scene until one gentleman told all the women to go to the cafe and drink tea. Me being me queried why only the women should go and I was told women are weaker than men. Of course I voiced my opinion to the contrary. Luckily a fellow policeman told the guy he was needed. He told me he would come back to me to teach me something. The others who heard what happened thanked me for saying something as they were shocked at what he said too. I know Maria could have beaten him at an arm wrestle that’s for sure!
For the first time since joining together we split up. Six of us going to the hospital with Gloria, Jussi and Lukas who hurt his ankle. Tom V, Gudbjorg and Bjorn went for support and translation. Eight of us went to the campsite in Todra Gorge and Frazer and Ryan stayed with the truck and finished the police reports.
After the truck had been pulled and lifted back onto the road we grabbed our tents and bags and some people grabbed some wine. Everyone agreed that due to the circumstances the bet should be suspended for one night. When I waved Jussi off I asked him if he had everything he needed and whether I could get him anything. He’d asked for a beer so I thought ok, to calm my nerves I would partake in a glass or two of red wine. Little did I know that Jussi didn’t get out of hospital until 11pm and had been prescribed enough drugs he didn’t need any alcohol. He forgave me my night of wine on the condition after his hand heals he could have a night of drinking too. So the bet is still on and the journey continues.
betsybluetoes 