On the morning of Monday, December 21, we woke up in time to metro to the airport and catch a one hour flight to Tangier (or Tangiers or Tanger, depending on what language you speak and/or what kind of mood you’re in), Morocco! I was definitely anxious, as I had very little idea what to expect, and it would be the first time aside from a weekend trip to Portugal 15 years ago, when I would be in a country in which I didn’t speak the language. The official language in Tangier is French, but the most used language is Moroccan Arabic. I believe Spanish is third, then English.
After running through the airport because we were told at check-in that our flight was already closed, we made it to the gate to find that no one had boarded yet. We then had a gate change, then waited another hour or so before getting on the flight. Yay for RyanAir! The flight was very short – just an hour – and it was very cool to fly over the Strait of Gibraltar and see Spain behind us and Morocco ahead of us. Or as I was thinking of it, Europe and comfort behind us and Africa and adventure ahead of us. Exciting!
We quickly found our taxi driver, who had been waiting there since our flight was supposed to originally take off from Madrid (12:30 pm). Not sure why he was there THAT early, but anyway, by the time we reached him, he had been there for quite some time waiting on us. He told us he didn’t get my email to the hotel saying that we were delayed. Oh well.
The hotel…was beautiful. It’s called the Grand Hotel Villa de France, and it reminded me of something out of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels….does that reference ring a bell with anyone? Something about the terraces and it being on a hill…I’m not sure. Anyway, we were given the room two down from where the painter Matisse lived for a year back in 1912-13 and where he painted “Window at Tangiers.” Kinda cool. We came to find out that many famous people have lived in and visited Tangier over the years – from Tennessee Williams to ________. Tons of movies have been filmed there too – at least in part, including From Russia With Love, Inception, The Bourne Ultimatum, and the latest James Bond film, SPECTRE. Also, Archer was supposedly born there. So there’s that.
View from the hotel
Our hotel
View from the hotel. You can see the hotel gate in the foreground.
View from the hotel at night
Our hotel
A little trivia, Tangier was an “international city” until the mid-late 1950’s, meaning, as Eric and I understand it, that it kinda existed as its only little country. To this day, it has a Spanish, English, Italian, and German part of town, plus others. Our first cab drive was very proud to point out one corner where there was a mosque, a Jewish temple, and a Christian church all within a few hundred meters from one another. He explained that in Tangier, people of all religions live at peace together.
Anyway, when we arrived at the hotel that first day, Monday, December 21, we were greeted by a man who said he was there to take us on a walking tour of the city as soon as we got settled into our room, showered, and changed. We hadn’t exactly been planning on this. I had written to the hotel manager to ask who he recommended for a tour guide, and he wrote back to say it had been taken care of and we would discuss it further when we arrived. I didn’t realize that he had already made our schedule for us! We decided, however, to take advantage of the opportunity to make our first half day productive, and after a short rest in the room (and no showers or changing…dirty Americans), we headed off on foot towards the market.
The market was awesome. We entered right in front of an olive stand and the smell was heavenly…at least to me. Eric hates olives and was pretty grossed out. Even so, the smell of all the spices was amazing. We saw fruits and veggies for sale, as you’d expect, plus dead chickens and roosters hanging upside-down and huge chunks of meat on butcher blocks. I actually almost ran into a dead rooster at one point and decided I should watch where I was walking.
Following our guide
Olives! The smell was amazing!
Lots of dead birds hanging upside down. Not as bad as the ones that still had their heads though. EEK!
Spices
We moved on to the Medina, the old area of the city where lots of wealthy people live, and twisted through narrow but beautiful streets up towards the Casbah…as in “Rock the Casbah.” We also got a great view of the ocean and could see the lights from Spain across the Strait of Gibraltar, as it had gotten dark by that point.
A lot of men wore these pointed hoods.
We also visited several shops along the way, including a huge furniture/textiles/rug/jewelry/silver store that was three stories tall and absolutely huge. The guy who showed us around this store spoke PERFECT English, knew where North Carolina was, and actually has a degree in interior design from Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD). Amazing. He noted that our accents didn’t sound southern, which I know will disappoint my Aunt Angela a bit. 🙂 Anyway, we had our first experience in haggling over prices at this store, where we were interested in a cashmere scarf for me (I didn’t know it was cashmere until afterwards…just thought it was pretty and soft…I’m so cultured) and a beautiful solid silver bracelet for our sister-in-law, Jennifer Paris. We quickly found out that although prices were very negotiable, they weren’t just giving things away. This was not like haggling in Mexico. The bracelet ended up being quite a bit more expensive than we had been thinking, even though we did get him to cut the “original,” i.e. B.S. price by 75%. Ha! We walked away from that one…sorry Jennifer! We got you a nice gift elsewhere. 🙂
I would love to have these in my house!
Next we stopped at a spice shop/pharmacy. We were treated to a well-rehearsed explanation of the main spices and remedies used in Morocco (or at least the most marketable ones), including spices from cumin to saffron, hand lotion, some kind of soap-like bar that keeps bugs away when you rub it on your wrists, a tiny bottle of fleur d’oranger which supposedly helps with nausea, hangovers, and migraines if you sniff it and wipe it on your temples and knocks you out like Ambien when you put a single drop in a glass of water before bed. Additionally, he had a tube of green lipstick that changed to red when you put it on your skin. Interesting stuff. We chose a few items to give as gifts and Eric did a fantastic job negotiating with him. It was tricky when they acted like they were offended when you offered a low price, but that’s the game. I insisted on taking my nice camera with us on our tour because…um…when else are we going to be in Tangier?…and that was evidently (and obviously, looking back) a clue to them that we had money. Lesson learned. The camera stayed in the hotel the next day. But I’m grateful for my pictures! Eric was very sweet to take most of them.
The “phamacist,” i.e. spice shop guy.
Spices
Spice shop
We next stopped at this random shop where we were introduced to a guy who I think was only identified as a Nomad. LONG story short, we were given some history of his people, he dressed us up in nomadic clothing, served us the traditional Moroccan mint tea (helps with digestion, they say), then proceeded to explain in detail how they build their tents. It was all very interesting, but when he started pulling out rug after wall covering after tapestry after blanket to show us, Eric and I decided it was time to figure out how to tell him we appreciated everything, but we weren’t going to be buying any heavy blankets to haul back to Panamá. Very interesting guy, but we were so hungry and tired by that time.
Another fabric/scarf/blanket store with some tricky negotiating and a guy who thought it was hilarious to dress us up in turbans and take our picture, then we headed off to dinner.
Dinner was phenomenal. We started off with bread, some kind of spicy red dip stuff, amazing olives, some olive tapenade, and some kind of green pepper…um…tapenade? I couldn’t help myself…I threw my gluten free rules out the window (again…cause I had some bread in Spain too) and ate what I thought was a reasonable amount after balancing out the level of temptation vs. the severity of the stomach pain that I was sure to feel later. We next had Moroccan soup…what’s in it, I couldn’t tell you, but it was awesome. After that was this pastry type thing – maybe filo dough? – with veggies of some sort in it. And the best part? It was completely covered in powdered sugar and cinnamon. Awesome! If only my parents had known that trick when I was young. The main dish was a tangine with incredibly tender chicken that just fell off the bone, potatoes, some unknown root veggie, and cous cous. Dessert was orange slices covered in cinnamon plus some kind of baclava type stuff. Again, amazing. We finished the meal off with a glass of mint tea and headed back to the hotel quite content.
The next morning (Tuesday, December 22) we woke up late. When we got down to breakfast, no one was there. We were told that since there weren’t many guests in the hotel, they would just bring us what we wanted instead of having the whole buffet out. Not knowing what all the options were, we ordered omelets and fruit. After a while, our waiter returned with a huge tray of food, but instead of bringing it straight to our table, he set it on the bar and began berating the two maintenance guys, presumably, for working while we were there. One guy continued to work on some wiring in the ceiling…right above our food. Nice. We’re fine with the work, just please bring the food to our table before it gets ceiling dust in it! Kinda funny. Anyway, we received omelets, olives (as always!), bowls of a mixture of diced pears, kiwi and oranges, plus a cheese and meat tray, a HUGE bread basket with maybe 10 types of bread, apricots, prunes, coffee, and fresh squeezed orange juice. We did the best we could, but we barely made a dent in all that they brought!
We were slow getting out that day. We took a self-guided tour of the hotel and took pictures of the amazing view from the rooftop terrace, then came the biggest adventure of our little African adventure….the shower. This shower was no joke. First of all, I believe it was constructed from a modified pressure-washer. Secondly, the water started out at a normal temperature, but I soon discovered that it would cycle through freezing cold, burning hot, then miserably tepid before returning to a decent temperature again. Eric made fun of me because I was frequently yelling out as the temperature changed. I was also rewarded with a beat-red back from the water pressure.
Our second water-related adventure of the day came when we ventured out to buy water so we could brush our teeth. The following information will help in understanding this story: the money used in Morocco is called the dirham. The exchange rate was approximately 10 dirham to 1 euro. Most vendors and stores would take either, but preferred dirhams. When we approached the first stand to attempt to buy water, the shopkeeper, who didn’t speak english, indicated that it would cost 6. 6 what? We weren’t sure, but given the prices we’d been given, we assumed he was talking about euros. Sounds silly now, but it was a big bottle of water and these folks tried to gouge us on other things. So Eric, again taking control of negotiating, offered 30 dirham, or what we thought was half of the asking price. Kinda standard bargaining in Tangier. After some confusing discussion back and forth and much disagreement, we decided we could not make a deal and walked on to find water elsewhere.
We later found water in the market, right after I almost ran face-first into a hanging dead rooster and a few minutes after we had seen two guys walking down the street carrying at least 6 dead roosters each, still with feathers and everything. Good morning Tangier! Anyway, Eric again offered 30 dirham to this guy for the water when he told us it was 6 euros. After a couple of minutes speaking with this more patient and understanding shopkeeper, we realized that he was saying it was 6 dirham, or about 60 cents…not 6 euros! So while Eric was arguing and offering 30 dirham, he was offering the guy 5 times what it was worth! Luckily the guy was kind and honest and worked through it with us. Made us feel pretty dumb for what had happened with the first poor guy!
After we brushed our teeth with our reasonably priced water, we set back out with the goal of reaching a big mosque that was built in the 14th century. Crazy, right? We wound our way through the markets and into the medina, found a beautiful view, then decided to head to the mosque and the Casbah. However, as you might imagine, the streets are not straight, they are narrow, they end abruptly sometimes, so it was hard to navigate. Nonetheless, we enjoyed seeing as much of the old part of the city that we did, and we eventually made it to our intended destination.
That night, we went via taxi to another hotel that had a nice restaurant. We never would have found the place on our own, but the concierge at the front desk was nice enough to make reservations for us. The decor was gorgeous! The proprietress spoke French, as opposed to the folks the night before who mostly spoke Arabic. There was also a French speaking couple seated next to us. Between the French and the Sinatra-esque music, the atmosphere was quite different from the night before. We had the same soup again, only with lemon confit in it which really brought out the flavors. Next, Eric had lamb and I had chicken in an olive sauce, both prepared in a tangine. Both came with candied pears, and we were treated to a slice of pear tart for dessert, on the house. Eric was quite pleased with his lamb, and while I enjoyed my meal, I much preferred the meal from the night before. Good experiences both though. At least until…
Inside the French restaurant
After the French couple left, we were the only ones left in the restaurant. The waiters and staff disappeared and we were left alone. We were both ready to leave and get back to the hotel, so we looked around for a bit, trying to find someone so we could pay and leave. After a while, all the lights went out! Well, we decided, I guess they’re ready for us to leave too! We walked down the two flights of stairs to the entrance to find that the power had gone out on the whole block. Luckily we had cash and were able to pay and head back home. I wonder how often that happens!
Unfortunately, I spent the next few hours back at the hotel pretty sick to my stomach. I was lucky enough to have it clear up quickly though, and I had no trouble falling asleep. Not sure whether to blame the bread or something else, but either way, I’m trying to exhibit more self-control in the baguette world now. It’s hard….so hard. My favorite things about Spain are bocadillos (sandwiches on crusty baguettes) and manchego cheese, and I’ve been craving those things since I was last here 12 years ago. Hard to walk away from all this goodness when it’s right in front of me. Eric’s been very helpful in taking away these temptations and gently steering me towards things that will be better for me.
On Wednesday, December 23, we flew back to Madrid, then took a train to Salamanca. Long day of travel, but we’re now in the city where we’ll be for Christmas! Though we enjoyed Tangier, I think we’re both happy to be back in Spain. The degree of comfort we feel here is just through the roof compared to Tangier, as you might imagine. We both decided, however, that we can see why so many Americans have lived in Tangier over the years. It might take a few months to get comfortable there, but gosh, it’s a beautiful city with very friendly people.
One more note about our Moroccan adventure: language. So many people there speak at least four languages. While our tour guide and many shopkeepers spoke English, we found ourselves using our four French words/phrases with hotel staff and the waiters at the second restaurant: bonjour, merci, au revoir, and bon soirée. We also used “salaam alaikum” (a greeting – “may peace be with you”), “la” (no) and “shokran” (thank you) with random people we encountered in town. We spoke Spanish with taxi drivers who spoke a Spanish/French mixture back. It felt so wonderful to find Spanish as the common language between two American and a Moroccan. Overall, this part of our journey was a great adventure.
