LYNN’S SPAIN/MOROCCO
JOURNAL
Day 6, Tuesday, May 14
Travel Day to Fes (Sevilla to Algeciras to Ceuta to Fes)
Got up early again to head out (7ish). Had coffee in my café-bar and bought a toasted bread. Paid the hotel via credit card—from our funny little man who sleeps on the couch and is almost impossible to wake up when we want to get in. Took us a long time to get out of the city toward Cadiz. Lots of wild flowers on the way to Algeciras, where we had to drop off the car.
Checking Out
We stopped at the train station to use the bathroom—turns out it was good to know where it was since we left this same train station to go to Ronda later on the trip. We had been heading downtown but got lost and were heading for the port—looking for the Hertz office. On the way, we quite by chance found the Hertz office. We dropped off the car with no extra charges—these came later in the mail. We took a short taxi ride to the ferry building, where we bought our tickets to Ceuta (20 euros each) and lunch (sandwiches).
We were able to catch the 12:15 ferry—it was my goal to reach Algeciras by noon or so. It was a short (35 minutes), calm ride in a quite nice ferry. Philip saw dolphins—I mostly stayed inside where it felt safer and calmer. I had bought 20 stamps for airmail postcards at a tobacco shop in the ferry building. We could see the Rock of Gibraltar outside the big windows—pretty impressive.
Gilbraltar
Dolphins in Distance
We disembarked at Ceuta, where Philip got us a guide (or rather the guide got Philip). Ceuta is technically in Spanish Morocco—so we officially were not in Morocco at this point. I had been talking to the information person about getting into Morocco. Our guide, Mohammed, spoke pretty good English. He made our life easy at this point in the trip and for not that much money--$10 (we gave him $20). This was probably the diceyist part of the trip.
Lyn Zais was right—entering Morocco was like going into another world. I had been reading parts of her account loud to Philip while we drove from Sevilla to Algeciras. We could see the ocean; it was hot; people in djellabah were wandering around all over carrying bags of stuff. First we got into a taxi for a short ride to the border. It was very hot and dusty with people and cars going in all directions and rows of young men lining the hills around the border crossing, apparently just watching the people coming and going. Without our guide we would have had no idea where to go, but we just followed Mohammed from the taxi to a window in a small office, where we handed over our passports and filled in forms. Then we changed money for the first time into dirhan. Then it was a much longer taxi ride into Tatouan to catch the bus/train.
The travel agency from whom we needed to buy the tickets to get a bus and train to Fes was closed for midday so Mohammed helped us to check our bags at the local bus station. Then we were free to walk around. Of course, we got a tour of the medina—our first in Morocco. It was everything we had been led to believe and more—a maze of twisty little streets lined with all kinds of shops. Different sections sold different things: vegetables, fruit, fish, cloth, brassware, etc. It was a fascinating experience and a great introduction to Morocco. After seeing this one medina, the others (Fes and Marrakesh) were kind of old hat.
One
of 7 gates to the Medina
Sheepskins at the Tannery
Mohammed even led us through a tannery, where we walked around various vats into which I definitely did not want to fall! The smell was strong but not unbearable. Mohammed pointed out various sights such as minarets and mosques.
The Medina From Above the Carpet Shop
Of course we were led into a rug shop and plied with sweet mint tea. The mint was fresh, and we had seen huge sprigs of it being sold in the market. I can’t believe it—but we bought a rug for around $350! We were shown dozens of rugs, but I had had my eyes on a bluish/greyish and tan rug hanging on the wall almost from the beginning. The rug on the wall was huge—we ended up buying a much smaller version with only six squares—less than ¼ the size of the big one. We paid by credit card—I hope it comes, and I hope it is what we ordered!
In the Carpet Showroom
By then it was time to go back to the travel agency. We bought our tickets to Fes. They were only 200 dirhan or so (for second class). But the voyage was complex: a long bus ride from Tatouan to a field (later found out it was called Itnine Yamani)—there wasn’t even a station there. We caught the Tangier to Casa train there and took it to Sidi Kacem, where we changed trains for Fes. Mohammed left us at the bus stop—we gave him a tip and a soap from Crabtree and Evelyn for his wife. He had said his wife said her eyes were the camera—kind of how I feel.
Waiting
for a Train
The bus trip was fine—we stopped once for refreshments. Indeed, we got off in a field, but so did everyone else. The porter from the bus took care of us—Mohammed had spoken to him. He put us in first class, but we later had to pay a supplement because we had bought second-class tickets in Tatouan. There were 3 train guys who were quite nice: the guy in our compartment who apparently was off duty, the man who had us pay the supplement for first class, and a maintenance guy who was very charming and handsome and spoke good English. And they did not have their hands out for tips.
Everyone knew we had to get off at Sidi Kacem. The train was right there when we got off, and it left right away. We found a compartment with three people at the end of the car—two women who talked together and a man. They sat across from us, confirmed that it was the train to Fes, told us when to get off. The countryside is much the same as Southern Spain: relatively green, rolling hills, olive trees, bright yellow sunflowers, cows, goats, bright red poppies.
Once in Fes, we were able to catch a petit taxi to the hotel—without the unnecessary help of a guide. The hotel people were expecting us, and we discussed tour plans. After a long day, it was good to take a quick shower (we were past the time of hot water but did have hot showers), change clothes, sit down to dinner. We were lucky that the hotel restaurant was still open. We sat outside on the open-air terrace that looked out on the courtyard. Rooms were around the outside facing the courtyard, with a fountain and a pool. The prix fixe dinners were expensive (115 dirhan) and too much food. Philip had cous cous, an oft-repeated meal of his, and I had a pork cutlet—he made the right choice. We went to bed exhausted—but we succeeded in reaching Fes from Sevilla in one day and without too much hassle. Thank God for Mohammed and all the nice people on the way who helped us.
Hotel Batha