I’m not sure what was more uncomfortable, standing there knowing I was being scammed (twice) or peeing out of my butt for two days in a row. Either way, it was all happening in Morocco.
Distilling the essence of “The Western Kingdom” is difficult since I had such a mixed experience, not to mention I was only there for 12 days. My exposure to the country was limited to the specific cities and activities I did.
To start with, I was inundated with shades of orange among the dirt roads and walls of the old cities. That ever-present color palette created the perception of sandy air. It’s like there was a desert nearby or something.
Even though I didn’t have enough time for a proper trip out to the Sahara, I saw a decent amount of barren landscapes on day excursions and train rides. Side note: public transportation a la buses and trains was surprisingly simple and reliable. However, certain passenger trains had small cabins with two rows of seats facing each other. That was quite crammed, when you factor in that many people ignore their ticketed seat assignment and sit wherever they feel like. That being said, my trips were more or less on time and adhered to the estimated duration.
Back to the architecture. The construction of the medinas seemed drab at first, but unique patterns started to reveal themselves upon closer look. The sophisticated detail of mosques and palaces was a joy to admire. Small elements showcased the French, Spanish and Portuguese influences. Outside the kasbahs, modern museums, apartments, and sport complexes were sprouting up in the larger cities. The contrast must be confusing for birds flying overhead.
Apart from the buildings, the souks are a congested tapestry of handmade figurines, colorful spices, knockoff apparel, and…well, tapestries. Though these markets are oft crowded and a risk for pickpockets, each walk through provides an opportunity to see, hear, or smell something new. Continually discovering new stalls, listening to painful negotiations, and inhaling the scent of freshly blended citrus was like being part of a complex ecosystem. I can’t count how many times I was called “Ali Baba” either. Apparently it means “strong man” or something in that ball park. But the definition was given to me by a guy running a scam, so I’m not sure he was a reliable source. Besides the flattering nickname, I was called Spanish, Italian, German, and even Chinese at one point. There’s a first time for everything, I guess.
Speaking of the people, this is another area where I’m hot and cold. The proprietors of the hostel I stayed in were incredibly generous, intelligent and interesting. Their easygoing vibe set a good standard at the beginning of my time in Marrakech.
From there, my impression began to deteriorate. In the streets and souks, I feel like they saw foreigners as walking dirham. While one vendor could be aggressive about getting your business, another would stand firm on an outlandish price. If it wasn’t someone trying to sell you something, it was a deceitful “friend” attempting, and sometimes succeeding, at wrapping you up in an elaborate con.
One contingency of people that were completely pleasant were the ex-pats. In every city I visited, there seemed to be a healthy community of middle-aged French or Spanish couples. Perhaps they’re content with life because they moved to a place where their retirement money will have a longer runway. Regardless, both groups are navigating the mixture of cultures with class.
To end on a high note, I have to mention the cuisine. I’m talking about tajine. I’m talking about cous cous. I’m talking about mint tea. I was either unfamiliar or uninterested in all of those things before my visit. Now, I’m an avid fan. It doesn’t get much better than spiced meat and vegetables slow-cooked in a special clay pot. As a shocking revelation, mint tea was the preferred beverage of choice between my friend Jud and I. Not beer. Somehow not beer. I can’t forget about the abundance of shawarma as well. Always delicious, occasionally detrimental to the digestive tract. It was a staple meal for us, while also being ridiculously affordable.
The cost of food and beverage in Morocco is actually an interesting topic — there was an incredible range in price depending on the establishment. It’s not groundbreaking that street meat was cheap, around $2.50 USD for a wrap with fries and tea. Alternatively, a meal at a nicer restaurant was closer to $15-$20. Still a reasonable price when you compare that to an outing back home, but it’s expensive when you’re on a traveler’s budget. Lastly, a liter of beer was over $10. Hey, I never said I didn’t have any beer. That’s almost an Oktoberfest rate and I found it absurd. It went down easy though.
So, now you might be asking yourself if I would recommend a trip to Morocco. Honestly, it’s difficult to say. Just because I had a mediocre experience doesn’t mean everyone will. I know people that have thoroughly enjoyed themselves. I will say this: my next jaunt to Africa will be elsewhere. Maybe I would have a different opinion if I had more beer and less diarrhea.
By the Numbers
Days in Morocco: 12
AirBnBs: 3
Public Transportation Rides: 10
Camel Rides: 1
Medinas Visited: 4
Barbershops Seen: Infinite
MAD Spent: ~$3,889.71
USD Spent: ~$403.24 (Conversion rate of 9.646)
You can see my full cost breakdown here.
For those interested in visiting one day, here’s a list of where I went and how I ranked stuff:
(click the top left button of the map to expand the list view)
Favorite Attractions: 1. Kasbah of the Udayas 2. Bahia Palace 3. Hassan II Mosque 4. Essouira Medina 5. Jemaa el Fna | Favorite Restaurants/Bars: 1. Triskala 2. Adwak 3. Kabana 4. La Sqala 5. Blue Berry |
Lastly, below is an album of what I deemed to be the best photos taken during this leg of the journey.
