Side trip to Tangier, Morocco

We took the fast boat from Tarifa, Spain across the Straits of Gibraltar to Tangier, Morocco. More to follow, heading back to Spain today.

Moroccan mint tea.

The city has been ruled by English, French and Spanish, the architecture tells the story. It was like being in France on some streets.

Gaddafi gave his live speech yesterday and everywhere Moroccans gathered to listen. His trademark 'oratory' echoed through the small streets.

The kids on the ceiling of our small guesthouse.

Marrakech 'A rainbow' says a 9 year old

"The Market" -J 9 years old

One of the most important things in a Moroccan life are spices and supplies. The best place to get that stuff is in the market.




When you enter the first thing you see are the many people. Then, you see a land of color: green chameleons, yellowish cumin, black hats, herbs, lanterns, daggers and much more.











My favorite thing was the chameleons because they were so unusual.

The market is the best place to find a dagger. Some of the daggers are big, some are small. They all have their own style. But some of the daggers are fake so you have to pick very wisely!

Before I went to Morocco I thought bargaining was something that was only in Star Wars. When you buy something in Morocco you always have to bargain. Say, if a shop owner says a price like 300 Dirhams then you go to a third of that and say 100 Dirhams.

 The price the shop owner says is nothing close to the real price! When you bargain something you think in your brain, "I'm never going to do this!"

(Gigi successfully bargaining for lanterns. A fellow who listened in said, 'She was strong!')

 Once you start it's like a Battleship game: one goes then the next until you feel the wonder of victory!



(J hugged after successfully negotiating daggers.)

If you want to save energy and drive to the market it will take 10x as long as walking because more than half the traffic on the street are humans! When you go to the market donkeys and huge carts pass you by. A street in the market of Marrakech is the size of two American sidewalks. So, the best way to travel is to go on foot!





For Americans Morocco is the busiest place ever! The first time I went out I thought the streets would be very, very dirty. But, it turned out that for so many people the streets were very clean. At night, men sweep with big, straw brooms.



When you take a walk you see magical things like cows heads, roosters and endless beautiful hand-made carpets, our family even got one.





In my heart Morocco is like a rainbow. . . it has everything.

Morocco "life-changing" says a 9 year old

We're back in Seville this morning after leaving Marrakech. I've never seen the kids more animated or excited when relaying and reflecting on the trip to Morocco. J had written a piece early in the week saying that upon arriving in Morocco he knew it would change his life. I held back on sharing this because I wondered what he might say at the end of the week.

As we sat in the Marrakech airport he repeated the idea that Morocco had been life-changing; I asked him to explain.

He said he understood people. He had spent the week bonding with kids in French, Arabic, and Berber.

J said that his soccer skills had been changed forever from his time playing in the alley with his friends. He explained that when you play in a narrow alley with kids that play hours a day from when they're 3 years old you 'learn something.' He went on to say that playing in a narrow alley is 'all about control of the ball' and jumped up to mime 5 tricks he'd picked up.

This kid hand-carried a treasured soccer ball to Morocco from Spain- a ball he played with every single second he could wherever he could find space. As we left Riad Misria for the last time Gigi and J gave out little gifts to the friends of the 'alley'. He turned to his twin in age, Solomon, and with a little bow handed over the soccer ball. Solomon put his arm around J's neck and gave him a gesture that was half kiss, half bow and all heart.


Lots more to come- no time. Here are some funny memories of Morocco.

Berber Market II and the Ourika Valley

We are home; that is how special Riad Misria is for a family traveling with kids. As we walked down the alley a shriek went up and the neighborhood boys cried out for J. He tossed them the soccer ball and a great war whoop rang out, we haven't seen J since, we've only heard the cries of glee echoing up the alley walls.

Sammy and Miriam were here as we walked in and we compared stories from Ourika Valley. The lovely Miriam was cooking a great vat of couscous while simultaneously helping us get our filthy clothes into a real washing machine AND making plans for us to get a henna design from her sister. We love Miriam so much we can't wait to meet her family. Staying at the Riad is so much like being in a great family lodge, plenty of room and comfort with great company around every corner. Rick and Baby-O are already in the pool.

The Berber Market was truly an experience, now that we have power here are more photos:

Here's a village up above where the market took place:

This river originates out of the Atlas Mountain snow- it's an oasis for donkeys but deadly during flood years. A handful of years ago it wiped out whole villages and killed hundreds.

A Berber man selling wool.

A donkey loaded down with tagines, the classic Moroccan cooking/serving vessel- these ones are for real, not for tourists.

I got stuck behind the donkey much Gigi's bemusement- a traffic jam of sorts!

This is a 'modern' butter churn. It takes an hour of shaking to make butter, it was made out of recycled cans. Gigi said it was light as a rose.

An earthen oven for cooking lamb. It takes 2 hours to roast the meat.

People didn't pay much attention to us because this market happens only once a week and it was clear business was the subject at hand.

Blacksmiths at work.

This was a 'banquet room' Berber-style in one of the 'restaurants'. 

We continued up the road and passed women herding sheep.

The Atlas loomed large in the distance.

The kids were ecstatic to see these.

Villages along the way.

We stopped along the river for a tagine.

These musicians came out of nowhere to the delight of Baby-O.

They disappeared as quickly as they'd emerged, walking up the riverbed.

The beauty of the valley is impossible to relay in words. It's an oasis of a different kind.