Copy of Email sent on the 10th December:
Hi everyone,
So you will excuse future typos, this is how the keyboard is set out:
The auick brozn fox ju,ps over the lqwy dog:
As you can see, typing this email will be a little tedious.
Extreme apologies for not writing sooner. Honestly, the only time we
have had internet access was in Chefchaouen and it was so slow that we
couldnt even log on before things timed out. As a warning, there wont
(sorry, no apostrophes that I can find!) be one for perhaps 10 days
after this because we are trekking as of tomorrow then at our
Community Project.
We are all well. The day we left Casablanca, big rain hit. You might have
seen it on the news because 20 people died. We are constantly monitoring the
weather and will adjust our trip accordingly if weather is going to be an
issue.
The flights werent so bad. The first one was very turbulant, but the second
quite smooth. Both Morocco teams were sitting together so we felt like
one big happy Roseville family. However, on arrival in Casablance, we
went our separate ways and Team B started to function.
Our first stop was Meknes. To be honest, we didnt really do much
there. Jet lag had hit, we were ready for bed, but we managed to
source some food after changing money (thanks Scarlett for using your
French so well!) and settled down for a nice roast chicken and hot
chips meal. Not exactly the most Moroccan meal, but we'd had a four
hour bus trip after the long flights and it was all we felt like
eating.
I suppose we should tell you about the hotel. It was nice. Really
nice. Really really nice. We all thought Antips was about roughing it
and doing travel at a basic level, but no. This was great. Hot
showers, comfy beds, elaborately decorated rooms and foyer, and
everywhere a feel for what Morocco was going to be like with mosaics
and cool pictures lining the walls. Obviously Antips wanted us to
settle in and be ready for the adventures ahead. Oh, we should also
mention that we sorted out transport for the next day to take us to
Chefchaoen - the city that is all blue and white.
Feeling very at home after a great night's sleep, we were keen to set
off on our first real adventure in country. At this stage, we realised
how awesome Mike (our last minute leader) is and everything fell into
place.
We set off on another long bus ride (maybe 4 hours) and it seems that
this was when our theme song for the rest of the journey (or at least
thus far) was set. For those of you who want a taste of what our bus
sounds like, turn on Dynamite by Taio Cruz, change the lyrics to
"singing eh oh, we're in Morocco" then do some funky dance moves with
your hands in the air whilst remaining safely seated at all times.
En route to Chef we stopped at Volubilis. Volubilis is a site of cool
ancient ruins and we saw what a town would have been like when the
Romans occupied parts of Northern Africa. Like all Roman towns, there
were gates leading into and out of the city. Each gate had three
doorways - a large one in the centre for chariots and horses and two
on either side for pedestrians. Aside from seeing some great mosaics,
we saw the ruins of houses, shops, temples, the market place and many
other interesting things. The Romans used phallic symbols everywhere
(door knockers, wind chimes etc) as a sign of health and fertility, so
we got some interesting photos. It was all in the name of learning the
history and culture of Morocco. We promise.
Arriving into Chefchaouen was like experiencing another world. The
city is completely blue and white, with our cameras never able to do
it justice. It was an Andalusian wonderland. The experience seemed
even more surreal when we were met by a throng of people as we got off
the bus and went to enter the medina leading to the heart of the city.
In Morocco, most of the small, picturesque towns were built long
before cars were invented, so the alleys are too narrow for traffic to
enter. I guess we should clarify and say automobile traffic, because
the human traffic would give peak hour on Sydney's roads a run for its
money.
The traditional dress in Morocco for men is a long gelabra (not quite
sure about spelling, but sounds like jel-arb-rah) with a pointed hood.
Two things came to mind - KKK (although the robes are usually brown in
colour and never white) and also Star Wars with the sand men. It was a
feast for the eyes to try to take in everything going on around us and
not miss a thing.
A lovely local decided to show us to our chosen hotel, or rather
hostel. This is where the whole "Antips" thing was going to kick in,
or so we thought. Careful research by our accommodation people
revealed that the Hotel Mauritania might be an excellent choice within
our budget, so off we set.
People stopped what they were doing as we went through the narrow gate
to the medina, just to get a closer look at us. I guess it would be
weird for anyone to see 15 white people with probably more luggage on
their backs than the locals even own, trying to walk the steep incline
into the heart of Chefchaouen. Before long, we were safely at Hotel
Mauitania, a great price was negotiated, and we entered.
WOW! OMG! I'M IN MOROCCO! were just some of the things that came to
mind. Similar to a traditional Riad (look it up parentals if you don't
know what it is - but baically it's a traditional Moroccan homestead),
there was a central courtyard inside, completely covered in blue and
white mosaic tiles, and gorgeous doors with colourful stained glass
led us to our rooms. We did have one room called the smurf room
because it had 4 single beds lined up very close together, but it was
home and we loved it.
Before going for dinner, we visited a carpet shop and had our first
mint tea with a lovely shop owner. He was desperate for us to write
pick up lines in his pick up line book, but of course, none of us know
anything about pick up lines so we weren't able to help so much. End
of story.
Not wanting to miss a thing, we set off up the hill to arrive at the
central square of Chefchaouen, and most of us chose to eat shish
kebabs for dinner. It was at this point that Miss Shanahan was renamed
Shaz-kebab for the remainder of the trip, and the poor waiter was so
confused when we were ordering because he thought every time we said
Shaz-kebab we wanted more shish-kebab, and desperately tried to
correct our terrible Arabic! After such long journeying, we returned
to our hotel for an early night, eager to get up early to explore the
delights of Chefchaouen.
Breakfast was had in a charming restaurant, with the owner so excited
to have such a large group so early in the morning. It was nearly 9am,
but the rest of Chef (our affectionate name for it) was still
sleeping. We mostly drank freshly squeezed orange juice and ate yummy
omeletes, and were greeted with "good morning Shaz-kebab" when our
restautant from last night opened up. We think he thought we were all
called that.
Anyway, we set off to the other side of the square and began the big
climb to the top of the town. This place is built on a hill, and it
seems that the wealthier people live uphill, the centre is in the
middle, and the poorer live below. Winding our way through the
gorgeous blue and white-washed lanes meant our cameras got a good
workout and we were falling in love with Morocco. We visited local
artisans' shops, bought many trinkets we love but don't need, and then
finally all purchased a traditional Moroccan scarf with the intention
of wearing it during our time in the desert. A special mention must go
to Miss Witt (affectionately known as Flea) for becoming the official
turban do-er-up-er-er after learning the art from our boisterous
salesman.
Next came our first free time of the trip. Free time on these journeys
consists of us being in a group with a minimum of 4 students at all
times. This is so that if something happens to a student (eg broken
leg) one student can stay with the injured party while two return to
the teachers/leader to get help. The teachers/leader hang about in a
very obvious spot so we all know where to find them at all times.
Free time for some meant trying to go on the internet, for others
buying chocolate. This is where an interesting story comes in. Don't
worry, we're all fine. We promise.
We'd read that Morocco can have some aggressive men (as can Australia)
and were all prepared for the worst when we arrived. After such a
wonderful reception from everyone thus far, we'd kinda relaxed a
little and were feeling quite at home. However, on this particular
day, a sharp reminder was brought to our attention so we'll be super
vigilant from now on.
Holly W was purchasing a chocolate bar and the shopkeeper decided she
was an easy target so refused to give her back her change. By the way,
he hadn't even given her the chocolate bar, so basically he'd taken
her money. As Holly W hadn't done much shopping at this stage (uh, it
changes later on!) the note was a large enough one to be of concern.
When the group of 4 pleaded their case, he became a little angry with
his tone of voice, so two of the students went to the teachers/leader
for help.
Shaz-kebab came along and the shopkeeper looked happy at the thought
of being able to continue to shout at another willing listener. That
was, until she asked him what had happened. In Arabic. He explained.
In Arabic. She responded. In Arabic. He freaked out and said he didn't
speak Arabic. They started speaking French. Then he didn't speak
French. Then it went to Spanish. The he said he only spoke English.
English was the easiest bit for us of course, so he was lost. He
finally said he doesn't speak anything at all because he's mute. Hmm.
Maybe he should get a second opinion on that diagnosis because he'd
proved it wrong just moments before! Completely frustrated, he wasn't
a happy camper. After a less than pleasing outcome (will tell all in
person, but seriously, everything is fine), we cut our losses and got
out of there, ready to get on the bus for Fes. Exciting afternoon.
The bus to Fes - booked with our trusty driver Larabi (we call him
Mohammed though) because the buses from Chef to Fes don't run on the
day we wanted to leave. He assured us he'd pick us up at 3pm. At
3.30pm, Mike (leader) and our transport people went to call him, and
it turns out there was some misunderstanding so we wouldn't be leaving
until the following morning.
Our accommodation team had a mission. Get us accommodation in Chef for
another night. Different accommodation. Beautiful as our hostel was,
there were a few too many noisy Spanish tourists staying there for us
to want to stay another night. So, off they went with Shaz-kebab to
find us a home for the night.
After much searching, Hotel Barcelona became our home. It's on the
"rich" side of the plaza but cost almost half the price of Hotel
Mauritania. The rooms were lovely, but the highlight was the roof,
which overlooked all of Chef, including the town square and its big
fort. It was simply magnificent.
Our extended stay in Chef had a number of consequences. 1. We were
known. We'd spent the afternoon building rapport with shop keepers
(except one) and this meant that everywhere we went people were
calling out to us. It felt like we were locals. 2. Lizzie bought a
gelabra (and has worn it pretty much ever since) and a traditional
Moroccan guita (and has serenaded us with it pretty much ever since).
All good consequences.
We had a lovely dinner then slept like babies before rising to get on
the bus to Fes.
This time, the bus to Fes was charged with iPod speakers the
teachers/leader bough in Chef. We had a sing-a-long for the entire bus
trip (4 hours) and then were ready for the most conservative city
we'll visit on this whole trip.
Arriving in Fes, we were again greeted with an awesome hotel organised
by Antips. This has definitely been a luxury tour! Having limited time
available to us, we headed out pretty much straight away, with Maddie
leading the way to the Palace doors so we could get pictures of the
intricate gold designs that are beautiful enough to grace the cover of
the Lonely Planet Guide we're all living from at the moment. The doors
were truly spectacular, sparkling in the afternoon sun.
We then walked to one of the many gates leading to the medina, and
purchased mandarins from a local seller when we got there. Intrigued
by our group, many came over to see where we were from, and
immediately offers for a guide were flowing. We accepted the offer of
the first guy, and he walked us to a great restaurant for lunch while
we waited for our official guide to turn up.
Lunch (meant to be 80 dirham pp but we bargained and got it for 40 pp)
consisted of the Moroccan bread we're all eating 24/7, and a kefta
tajine which had egg, a tomato sauce and yummy lamb meatballs. Food
here is amazing. the nice thing is that they serve meals in communal
dishes and we all help ourselves out of those, meaning that the dining
experience is an involved one with lots of laughter and chatter.
As soon as we were done, our guide was ready to take us on our tour.
He spoke great English for greetings etc, but we realised as soon as
we were in the heart of the medina and his information started flying
that he in fact had extremely limited English. Bummer. However, he
spoke perfect Spanish, so he conducted the tour in Spanish and
Shaz-kebab translated for us. It worked out just fine in the end.
Among other things, we learned that Fes is the cultural, religious,
artistic, spiritual and theological capital of Morocco. Merchants used
to come from all around to trade goods, and there are over 9,000
alleys in the medina alone. This is why we had to keep the guide even
though his English was limited. We went to the tanneries, shopped in
traditional silk weavers' shops, bought carpets and really had a great
time. We rode home in mini-van taxis and went out for a lovely dinner
of tajine. Again. Tajine is the staple food here.
Again, a great night's sleep then we were off again.
The internet cafe is closing now, so we have to log off. That's a
start, but promise we'll fill you in ASAP on ALL the adventures.
Everyone is well and we're all getting along fine.
Thank you thank you thank you for letting us have this wonderful experience!
Love Team B. (B is for busy today).
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