The formula was perfect; meeting up with Michaela in Paris for two nights (enjoying good food, caught up with Mathias and Marius my norwegian friends from Cairo, six o clock mass in Notre Dame, Montmarte, la vie en rose...) before the ten day trip, with a round trip ticket on the same plane to Casablanca, and a car rental for the whole time. The total of driving was almost 2,000 kilometers, which combined with the best company, breathtaking views, fun roads, friendly animals on the side of the road, some solid Moroccan hiphop and groove music, and giving the occasional lift to a Moroccan, was more than tolerable. The travel log looked like this; landed in Casablanca, drove that night to Rabat, drove to Tangiers, drove to Chefchauen, drove to Fes (2 nights), drove to Marrakesch, drove to Essauoira (2 nights), drove back to Casablanca.
It is hard to put into words how incredible of a country it is. We drove past vast expanses of green, through rocky mountains, along the Mediterranean and Atlantic Coast, and even through snow! It's funny how we saw more of Morocco that the majority of Moroccans will see in their lifetime, but still barely scratched the surface of what Morocco is truly like. Maybe we found a taste of it when in a CD store at one point when the inquiry about hiphop music opened up a floodgate of information and pride about the fusion of traditional Berber culture (the tribe living in Morocco before the arrival of Islam), mixed with the hiphop in French, Arabic, and Berber. On the other side of it, we met Moroccans who jokingly would say "you shouldn't trust him, he's a Berber." Many of the men wear Jallibayas, which from American eyes look strikingly similar to KKK robes; long, with a point hood, except these ones come in all sorts of colors, from brown, grey, black, dark green, to the less common striped and crimson colors. Coming from Egypt, the people there are far less obtrusive and pushy to try to get you to buy things, and in every city there still exists the old quarters "Medinas" with windy streets wafting with all sorts of smells, donkeys, cats, and every item (touristy or vital to daily life) is available for a certain price. Although it isn't directly fueled by tourism, and we were surprisingly some of the few tourists in most of the areas we went, it's clear that the trickle down effect keeps things going. My favorite people to support were the little boys who would lead you through the impossibly navigable Medinas to the hotel or a touristic spot, extra tip if they carry along an umbrella or a ball to play soccer with. Of course, it was equally fun just wandering around and getting lost on our own, finding back alleys filled with beautiful jewelry or rugs, and at one point in Tangiers we stumbled upon the tomb of Ibn Batutta a famous Arab traveller of the 14th century and one of the founding fathers of Shisha.
Below is a street in Chefchaouen, a beautiful mountain town painted in light blue to keep away the flies.

Below is the courtyard of our Riad in Fes. As it was low season we could actually afford it... and living like kings for two days in this place was perfect to escape the windy rainy weather and bustling streets to relax. It also had one of the highest points in the Medina, and during prayer time I could hear the clear dissonance of prayers unobstructed from the noise below. They actually travelled from East to West in their starting times, and I was able to count about 12 mosques within a 1 km radius.
It is hard to put into words how incredible of a country it is. We drove past vast expanses of green, through rocky mountains, along the Mediterranean and Atlantic Coast, and even through snow! It's funny how we saw more of Morocco that the majority of Moroccans will see in their lifetime, but still barely scratched the surface of what Morocco is truly like. Maybe we found a taste of it when in a CD store at one point when the inquiry about hiphop music opened up a floodgate of information and pride about the fusion of traditional Berber culture (the tribe living in Morocco before the arrival of Islam), mixed with the hiphop in French, Arabic, and Berber. On the other side of it, we met Moroccans who jokingly would say "you shouldn't trust him, he's a Berber." Many of the men wear Jallibayas, which from American eyes look strikingly similar to KKK robes; long, with a point hood, except these ones come in all sorts of colors, from brown, grey, black, dark green, to the less common striped and crimson colors. Coming from Egypt, the people there are far less obtrusive and pushy to try to get you to buy things, and in every city there still exists the old quarters "Medinas" with windy streets wafting with all sorts of smells, donkeys, cats, and every item (touristy or vital to daily life) is available for a certain price. Although it isn't directly fueled by tourism, and we were surprisingly some of the few tourists in most of the areas we went, it's clear that the trickle down effect keeps things going. My favorite people to support were the little boys who would lead you through the impossibly navigable Medinas to the hotel or a touristic spot, extra tip if they carry along an umbrella or a ball to play soccer with. Of course, it was equally fun just wandering around and getting lost on our own, finding back alleys filled with beautiful jewelry or rugs, and at one point in Tangiers we stumbled upon the tomb of Ibn Batutta a famous Arab traveller of the 14th century and one of the founding fathers of Shisha.
Although I thought that pretty much everyone spoke French, in the North it was more rare, and you need Spanish to get by, but it was a blast holding conversations in four languages; zigzagging my American footprint as much as possible.. Compared to Egypt where there is a cafe serving it on every street, finding Shisha was much more rare, and in fact it was made illegal, though we did find a sha3bee (folk/non touristy) place in Essauoira. I'm pretty sure I saw one of the waiters pay off the police as they drove by too. Hashish on the other hand is omnipresent, and these are the worst hustlers because if you respond to them they wont be able to comprehend why you actually aren't interested in buying anything from them. All that really worked in the end was saying that I had plenty and that usually kept the dealers at bey. The roads were actually very well kept, the routes were easy to follow, many lined with trees on each side or mileage markers, and the traffic laws were actually obeyed, almost annoyingly so, as most cars on the highway went under the speed limit. On the last day I got a speeding ticket for doing 74 km in a 60. In my defense there was no marking, and I had just come off driving up the Atlantic coast where it was 100 km, and was pulling it tight to return the car on time, but 400 Dhirams (50$) later and there were no worries... oops maybe that explains why everyone was going so slow.
A couple more highlights:
Driving up from Rabat, we decided to get a peek at the Atlantic. There was a potholey paved road that took us to the Atlantic, but nothing more than a muddy road with lots of holes in it that took us North along the coast. Either way, off-roading was in the cards so we headed up a little bit with the attitude of not driving over the same route twice. There was an old fortress on a bluff over the Atlantic that looked like a mosque, with a gardien sitting out at the front of it and another parked car. We pushed open the door and in the windy drizzle found a circus school!

Driving up from Rabat, we decided to get a peek at the Atlantic. There was a potholey paved road that took us to the Atlantic, but nothing more than a muddy road with lots of holes in it that took us North along the coast. Either way, off-roading was in the cards so we headed up a little bit with the attitude of not driving over the same route twice. There was an old fortress on a bluff over the Atlantic that looked like a mosque, with a gardien sitting out at the front of it and another parked car. We pushed open the door and in the windy drizzle found a circus school!
Below is a street in Chefchaouen, a beautiful mountain town painted in light blue to keep away the flies.
Fes was also cool because at night in the large square within the gates of the Medina there were several steps that were wide enough to hold a soccer match and basically on each step from the glow of the gates there was one going on.
The drive from Fes to Marrakesch was also pretty epic. We started with trying to drive over the Middle Atlas mountains, and should have listened to a lady to whom we gave a ride (because we had asked her for directions and the route we wanted was on the way to her home...), but we made it all the way up to Ifrane, which is a mountain town where the King's palace is located, and then had to turn around because the snow had blocked the path. It felt like driving through Canada. So basically it turned the already long drive into a 9 hour day on the road and bombing back through the coast.
Being in Essaouira was cool too. A sea town fortress with a hippy vibe and some amazing fish. Slow breaking waves a little bit North for some righteous surfing.
In the end, I know I'm going to come back to Morocco one day inshallah.
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