How the heck did I get to Morocco?  Not actually, physically get there but how did it end up on my itinerary.   I’m not sure where the idea of going to Morocco first entered into my mind.  It may have been because a dear friend of mine in SD is visiting in November (note to self: remind her to ONLY drink bottled water and eat NOTHING that is not cooked. . but more on that later.)  Maybe because this friend was going I decided to look into it a few months ago.  I knew it was doable being only a short distance from southern Spain but I also knew I did not want to travel there solo.  It was one thing to be in Europe by myself but it was a whole other issue traveling to Africa alone.  Yes, it is the very northern part of Africa but it’s still AFRICA.  I looked in to a few budget tour groups but all were in the $1000 plus range for a week.  I just decided to table it.  I would be in Europe.  Spain!   I didn’t need to tack Morocco on as well.

Fast forward three weeks from that point.  I was still in San Diego; packing, trying to sell the car, having garage sales to sell my unwanted stuff, when I get an email from my friend Bridget.  Now Bridget is a true gem of a person who I have known since elementary school.  We played softball together and carpooled to CCD. For those of you not raised Catholic, CCD is the weekly religious education class many public school kids attend.  Nothing cements a friendship like carpooling to CCD! Anyway,  B is a travel writer who splits her time between Buenos Aires and the States.  Traveling is in her blood.  The email from B said something like “Hi! I’m traveling to the states in October for a wedding and I thought I could do a “stopover” to visit you in Spain. Think it could work?”  Um yes!  That would be amazing.  I would love a travel partner.  She continues “What if we met in Seville and crossed over to Morocco by ferry.  I’ve never been there and would love to go.  I’m probably blowing your mind right now.”  Nope not blowing my mind but definitely reading my mind a bit.  This was August 23rd.  I was leaving for Europe September 9th. Being flexible with travel plans has it’s pros and cons.  We essentially decided to go to Morocco one month before we arrived there. This is when being flexible worked in my favor and  that is how my Morocco trip came to fruition.

After two nights in Seville, B and I took a 3 hour bus ride to Tarifa Spain the very most southern point.  We were expecting the ferry ride to be under an hour but we booked a “high speed” boat that was 30 minutes flat.  We bought the tickets from a ticket office and as we were walking out the door the man called to us,  “Girls.  Be careful in Morocco.  The men there can be a bit. . . aggressive.”  30 minute ferry ride and aggressive men.  Got it.  Thank you kind sir.

All kidding aside, I knew things would be a bit different in Morocco  Bridget and I planned for it.  From our style of dress to our ability to navigate the cities.  I had read that most women are expected to be back in their homes by sunset (8ish).  In Spain you couldn’t get served dinner until 8:30 at the earliest; typically 9/9:30.  So yes I knew things were going to be a change from Spain.

After 30 minutes on a windy but quite large and comfortable boat, we docked in Tangier and there was an immediate sense of “We’re not in Europe anymore Toto.”  Things weren’t better or worse but there was change of energy.  Things seemed busier and more chaotic.

Our hotel was just a short drive from the dock.  We arrived and were greeted by a sweet young guy named Siyad who was more than happy to give us the “run down” on what to see in Tangier.  Another contrast from Europe was our money could go much further.  We stayed in a gorgeous room.  That night we went and explored the town included the medina.   A medina is a secion of the city with high walls, and narrow, maze like streets.  It is super easy to get lots so B and I stayed mostly on the periphery.

Afterward we went to a delicious restaurant that Siyad had told us was his favorite place.  We returned to the hotel and were heading back to the room when all of sudden we heard Siyad calling for us “Girls, girls!”  We stopped climbing the stairs, and looked back at him with anticipation.  “I must ask you a question.” Okay, this is probably important since he left the desk and followed us to the stairs to ask us.  ” I must ask you. . .what did you order for dinner tonight?” We told him everything we ate and how much we enjoyed it.  Siyad nodded knowingly.  “Ah yes yes. Very good. Goodnight girls.”