Since my journey to Morocco impacted me so much, I wrote out an account of all the days I was there in my journal and thought I would just copy and paste it here. I must warn you that it is really long and not very polished, but if you want to walk with me through my experience there, read on...
Day #1
We took of at 6:30 am from Ogijares where Chris dropped Sarah and I off at the bus station for the 7 am bus to Madrid. We sat in the front seats, the ones where it seems like there is a giant glass wall in front of you, and attempted to sleep on the way.
When we arrived at the bus station in Madrid we traveled through the long tunnels and mass of stairs that makes up the Metro to the airport. Anyways we arrived at the airport, waited in the long passport line while watching kids from completely different countries,who didn’t even know each other’s languages, play together like old friends, then passed finally through security. Once we found our gate we also found Starbucks (I’m pretty sure I heard heavenly music when I saw the sign...just saying) and throughly enjoyed a meal before boarding.
It was Sunday and so we were informed that all the families we saw had been on a picnic together in the park and we certainly saw many people sitting in the grass soaking up the glorious sun. We drove along this huge mud brick wall and were informed that it was the wall that led into the old part of the city, the Medina, which is where we would be staying. We drove through a gate in the wall and immediately entered into a maze of small streets, shops, and people. There was nothing we could do but hold on and watch the flurry of colors, smells, and people pass by.
We finally pulled into a small opening which we learned was a square and the driver stopped beside a man who was dressed what I considered normally and although he looked about my age he looked very stern. I was nervous and a bit concerned for a second until the door opened and a giant smile lite up his face as the once stern-looking man revealed his name and that he would be showing us to our Riad. His name was Youssef and as he carried our backpacks he led us through the maze of the chaos and noise he often warned us of the oncoming motorists and showed us bit by bit the steps to the dance of life there.
We moved clumsily along until we got to a street that led us to another small street that took us past a small mosque and then we turned to yet another street with a small fountain where a boy was washing his feet and filling bottles. The street then turned and we followed it until we found a small alley which led us to...you guessed it another street and close after; our door. The door was made of dark wood and was very heavy and old looking. Youssef joked in what we would learn was his usual way about the immense size of the sign for the Riad which was in fact only about 3 inches big and was right beside the door. It seemed to whisper rather than shout that you’d arrived at Le Coq Fou, finally.
We entered into a small but pretty entry way where a desk/office area was in front of us and a typical and beautiful patio was revealed to our right. We were led down a few stairs into this patio that displayed beautiful climbing vines that stretched to the top of the third floor and framed a pool and fountain filled with pink roses and petals.
Youssef informed us that it is typical in Morocco for guests to be given a welcome tea. So he led us to a table for us to wait while he prepared it in the kitchen that was in one of the many rooms off the patio. I feel like I have used the verb LED a lot so far and I guess that would be because looking back I feel Sarah and I were very literally led step by step through this journey there as if God took us by the hands and led us through the labyrinth of this adventure.
Anyways as the tea had finished brewing it was brought out on a silver tray and poured from a silver colored tea pot into glass cups. When he poured the tea, which I later saw was their usual way, he poured it very high above the cups so we saw a long stream of golden tea flowing into the cups. As I held my cup I noticed the tea smelled very strongly of mint and my first taste was a mix of mint and very sweet. I was told it was made with tea, a sprig of mint, and lots and lots of sugar. It was delicious and thankfully it was a drink we would enjoy many times on our trip.
After we had finished, Youssef brought out paper and a pen and drew us a very detailed map of where we had been, where we were, and the roads to get to the main square. He gave us an official map, advised us on what to see, told us we would get lost, but informed us to only ask store owners or women for directions, and then gave us the card of our Riad. He asked us about our plans since at that point we had only booked one night there, partially out of skepticism and also because we didn’t have a set plan. So we told him about the different ideas we had and he advised us to stay the whole time there and that they would take good care of us. We thanked him our of politeness but I still held onto my skepticism, I was still wary of Morocco.
After a Youssef style joke about us only being booked to sleep outside on the terrace, he led us up to the terrace-roof on the third floor where there was only one enclosed room. Our room was like it’s own house on top of the flowery roof where we could see the many roofs of the city and an oncoming sunset. Inside our room was simple yet beautiful with its own bathroom and decorated in my favorite shade of sea blue and white. It came complete with another silver tray at the foot of the bed and an array of pink flower petals dispersed throughout.
After a moment of rest and refreshment we decided to journey out of the tranquility of our Riad. So with our home-made map in hand we set out through the streets. I was struck with such an arrangement of smells from sweet sugary smells, to spicy cinnamon and cumin, to the occasional whiff of trash and body smell. At first it was very hard to get through the mass of people and stressful to watch out for the many bikes, motor bikes, donkeys and carts, and even the occasional car through those tiny winding streets. The shop owners called out from their stands at us, pretty ladies come see what we are selling. We heard how “nice” we were and how everyone could make us a great deal every step we took along our journey to find a place to eat dinner.
It was very overwhelming yet at the same time exciting to see everything and everyone. It reminded me though of the many distractions and seductions that we face every day, Satan trying to sell us another truth other than the real One and Only Truth. He tries to flatter us and appeals to our pride and often good sense, but what He is selling will never deliver on its promises.
So after entering and exiting a very upity and touristy restaurant we finally came upon Le Bougainvillier that was very cute and so we sat in another indoor patio with a fountain and a pool and with large silver round lights, lighting the tables. It was very different to hear French and Arabic floating in the room instead of Spanish and to once again be in a place of complete ignorance.
We decided upon couscous and chicken pastela, both of which are typical of Morocco and so we thought that we could get both and split them. When the chicken pastela arrived at our table it was beautiful, it was a round-shaped pocket-type pastry that was covered with a checkerboard of cinnamon and sugar on top. It may have been one of the most delicious things I have ever put into my mouth. The couscous was also good, but it really couldn’t compare. After the meal and the joys of figuring out Durhams, Moroccan currency, in comparison to Euros we made our way back.
One our way back the streets were quieter and the streets lamps were full on, surprisingly we had no trouble finding our way back through the maze to the Riad, thanks to our hand-drawn map. Once we got inside we sleepily made our way up to the room and collapsed on the bed, feeling much more inclined to stay at the Riad the whole time or at least on our last night.
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