Yallah! Reflections on my visit to Morocco

Just being a tourist. (Me, not the camel.)

After experiencing a rather lonely time traveling in Malta solo last November, I decided to join a group tour for this November’s getaway. (Being retired, I am not exactly sure what I am getting away from.) I had heard good things about Overseas Adventure Travel (OAT) and found a great discount on their 16 day tour to Morocco, a country that has been on my bucket list. So I signed on.

The lively Square in Marrakech. Our riad was in the corner of it.

The trip itself was somewhat less active than the hiking and biking excursions I usually do. There was more bus-riding, more lectures, more guided touring, more long group meals, more craft demonstrations followed by sales pitches, and a slower walking pace than I am accustomed to. But the trip’s activities aligned 100% to the trip itinerary provided by the company and we were busy every day. If I was surprised by anything about the trip, it was because I had not read OAT’s description of it carefully enough.

Morocco has often been used as the setting for movies such as Game of Thrones and Gladiator near Ouarzazate.

A few take aways:

One of many group photos.

There are pluses and minuses of group travel. I am, by nature, an introvert. I cherish my time alone. But I also appreciate the company of others when in new, strange, and sometimes confusing places. This OAT trip had 15 participants, two of whom dropped out after about three days due to ill health. I am guessing we were all between the ages of 65 and 75. There was one Canadian and the rest of us were from all over the US. One major issue I have with group travel are stragglers. I have to say, most of these folks kept up pretty well with only a couple of individuals taking rather a long time to finish purchases at gift shops or stop to take photos. Maybe I was the one everyone else complained about being slow.

Entrance to our riad in Rabat.

The sounds and smells and looks of Morocco took me back to my days spent in Saudi Arabia as a teacher for the ARAMCO schools in the 1980s. I loved hearing the call to prayer echo throughout the towns, even into my hotel rooms. I only remember about a half dozen words of Arabic and the Arabic of Morocco differs somewhat from that of Saudi. “Yallah” was the guide Wahid’s indication we needed to get going. We heard it alot.

Like many Arabic cultures, Morocco is what I would call inward looking. The alley above, reached by zigzagging down several like it from a main road, would give no hint from appearances that the doors off it opened to riads - former homes and palaces converted to luxurious guest houses. (I have a number of photos on my SmugMug site linked below to some of these rooms.)

The courtyard interior of our riad in Fez.

Pool, restaurant, bar and open skylights, the place was spacious and beautiful - as were the rooms. We stayed mostly in riads, a couple very swanky hotels, and two nights “roughing it” in the desert in tents that came with king sized beds, electricity, and hot water. (Riads are converted private homes.)

Dawn from our hot air balloon ride.

One thing this trip made me admit is that there are joys in doing touristy things. The camel ride in the Sahara and the hot air balloon ride near Marrakech were both designed solely to entertain visitors. And that is OK. Every trip perhaps needs a little Disneyland in it. 

Our camel trek

The balloon ride was breathtaking. Starting at dawn, we floated silently over the Moroccan landscape watching the other balloons being inflated and then rise with the sun. I will remember that balloon trip, like I do my first one in the 80s in Kenya, with great fondness. Only five of the 13 in our group did the balloon ride. The camel trek was also a unique experience. Our guide got us all scarves we wore as Arab headdresses and for about an hour we slowly plodded up and down Saharan sand dunes. Most memorable.

Visit to a nomad home

Forgive me here but I will be using the terms Berber, bedouin, and nomad interchangeably. I am not sure they are. But OATs made sure we got a real feel of the life of these desert dwellers, living in isolation in desolate-looking parts of the country. The Berber are the indigenous peoples of Morocco, conquered by the Muslims many centuries ago. Today they still herd goats and sheep as a primary source of both food and income, spin their own fabrics, and make their own clothes. It was not uncommon driving through an isolated area to see a single individual herding a flock of sheep - or simply walking alone through the wilds. I felt a bit uncomfortable peering into individuals' private homes and watching them make mud brick, cut alfalfa, or make bread baked directly on open coals. But we were served mint tea and they did not seem bothered by our presence. When asked about what future they wanted for their children, the reply was often “a continuation of our nomadic lifestyle.”

Our two week route

We covered a large part of the country, primarily by bus. (We used 4x4s in the desert.) The country is divided by the Atlas mountains and includes a fringe of the Sahara desert in its southeast, bordering unfriendly Algiers. We had two days of stunning views of the mountains traveling from Erfoud to Marrakech.  

A typical tajine prepared meal

Even great food gets old. Our meals primarily consisted of a continental breakfast and then a plated meal of salad or soup with a main course of meat (beef, fish, lamb, or chicken) and vegetables cooked in an earthenware pot called a tajine. Nicely flavored, not too spicy, I enjoyed it very much. For the first dozen or so meals. I got hungry for pizza and hamburgers and tacos. Oh, olives were served at every meal - including breakfast. Morocco is a major olive producer and we drove by acre after acre of orchards and even stopped to try our hand at harvesting them. I thought the Moroccan wine was excellent - a legacy of being a French colony for many years. Dates and mint tea were commonly served with many dates also being grown in Moroccco.

Our guide Wahid nearly gets run over by a motorbike

The larger cities are sprawling, clean, and modern suburbs circling a medina - a walled area which is filled with small alleys and courtyards stuffed with shops, homes, and even tanneries, as is the case in Fez. It is very, very easy to get lost in these mazes and one only narrowly avoids motor scooters and carts ramming their way around. It was certainly one of those times I was happy to have a guide.

Copper market in Fes in operation for centuries

Relaxing in the tub. (Guide said I was lucky not to have gotten caught doing this.)

Typical alley market

Strolling through markets seemed to make up a lot of our days. Like the food, the experience got a little old for me, but then I’ve never been much of a shopper. Bargaining was mandatory. I would have liked a full day dedicated to hiking through a Moroccan wilderness. Not in the itinerary.

Our drum instructor at a music museum

We visited a number of museums and factories, including a Berber music museum where we had a chance to learn how to correctly beat a drum. We also toured a tannery, a ceramics factory, a factory where furniture and jewelry were made from slabs of fossilized rock, and a Berber carpet maker. Of course, there was encouragement to purchase the products at each of these.

Crossing the High Atlas Mountains

I was amazed at how good the cell coverage was throughout this trip - even in the desert. I used a Holafly eSIM in my phone and it worked like a charm. Our weather was great - most days in the low 70s. I packed a puffy coat, concerned about the night time temps in the Sahara, but only used it on the early morning hot air balloon ride. One day of rain was when we were doing a long drive in the bus. (Coming home to Minnesota is a bit of a shock.)

Snake handler in Marrakech

Roman ruins of Volubis 

Hundreds of cats in the cities

I was charmed by the feral cats in each city we visited. I wish I could say they all looked healthy, but many did not. Some, like the ones pictured above, did have humans who fed them. I’m not sure cats are considered sacred, but the Prophet Mohammad loved cats (not dogs), so they are respected. 

Looking down from the Great Wall of China in 1988, I watched tour buses arrive in the parking lot. While my daughter and I climbed up the wall, walked along it, and even posed on a camel on top of it, most passengers on the tour bus did not. Some, I believe, did not even exit the bus. It was then I vowed to travel while I could be active and not wait until I was old and could only view the world through a plate of glass. I always got out of the bus this trip. I hope I continue to do so for many years.

All my photos from this trip can be found here: https://dougj.smugmug.com/Travel/2024/Morocco-

Still in my dreams after all these years

On entering a small roadside cafe in rural Missouri last month, I noticed a familiar odor which I could not immediately identify. After eating a modest lunch served by a friendly waitress in a booth near the front door, I headed back to the restroom. It was only on returning to my booth that I noticed something on the tables at the rear of the cafe - ash trays. This small diner actually had a smoking section, something not permitted in Minnesota since 2007. (Smoking in restaurants seating fewer than 50 people is legal in Missouri.)

Like many people I knew, including my parents, I smoked cigarettes when I was younger. I started in high school, stealing my dad’s unfiltered Camels, and not quitting until my son was born in 1986. While I’ve had a few minor lapses, I’ve not smoked since - for 38 years. Thankfully. That I ever started is one of the true regrets I have.

Yet every now and then I find myself smoking in my dreams. The cigarette is usually very weak and I am trying to hide it from others around me, obviously ashamed of the act. One wonders how the human mind works.

One sign of an improving society, I believe, is the dramatic decrease in smoking:

Cigarette smoking in the U.S. is at a low point, according to eight decades of Gallup trends. Currently, 11% of U.S. adults say they have smoked cigarettes in the past week, matching the historical low measured in 2022 (and nearly matched at 12% in 2023). When Gallup first asked about cigarette smoking in 1944, 41% of U.S. adults said they smoked. The current smoking rate is about half as large as it was a decade ago and one-third as large as it was in the late 1980s. Gallup, August 13, 2024

Yeah, gas stations still house whole shelves full of cigarette packs (along with chewing tobacco) and one still sees the occasional cigarette butt on sidewalks and in parking lots. The smokers I see are mostly senior citizens sitting outside their senior living facilities - some ironically in wheelchairs and with oxygen tanks in inclement weather. But it is rare that in my day to day activity that I see or smell smoking and I have no relatives or close friends who indulge.

Vaping, of course, is the new smoking which the young and stupid have substituted for cigarettes when I was young and stupid. I suspect one day we will see a movement to reduce that habit as well for the benefit of both individuals and society. One can hope. At least I cannot smell the vapers.

Tomorrow I get on a jet for a long flight to Amsterdam and on to Casablanca, knowing smoking is banned on both the plane and in the airport. In the 80s, before smoking was banned on flights, I would request seating in the non-smoking section, a request that was usually granted. Of course my non-smoking row was directly behind the last smoking section row. At least in the 80s we had more legroom!

Less smoking gives me some hope for mankind. What might give you hope?

News burnout

Can’t we just get this election over? Please? The campaigns have been ugly, disparaging, and overwhelming. And I’ve voted already already.

I will admit to being something of a news junkie. I read two daily newspapers and subscribe to the NYT for its columnists. I watch the local and national news nearly every night. The only radio station I have a preset for in my car is NPR. I check my GoogleNews feed daily and read Heather Cox RIchardson’s newsletter (or most of it anyway). In my own little echo chamber, I don’t watch Fox news or read any political posts in my Facebook feed nor do I subscribe to Twitter (now known as X). 

After only a few dozen viewings, the ads by all candidates regardless of political party don’t just bore me, but almost nauseate me. (But not as much as the emu in the Liberty Mutual Ads.) I only glance at the postcards that arrive daily in my mail before pitching them into the recycling bin in my garage - the poor things don’t even make it into the house. I am not a fan of lawn signs - with the prevalence of one party sending shivers down my spine. 

As I mentioned, I have already voted early. I sense it is not the undecided, but the indifferent, who have not or will note vote in this critical election. I suspect, like most citizens, there is no party that totally reflects my values, my hopes, my concerns. (Is ANYBODY but me concerned about the national debt?) I don’t think one more diatribe about the deficiencies of one’s political rival is going to make much of a difference on November 5, 2024.

And I am afraid I am not just getting burned out on political coverage. Stories of ecological disasters, forecasts of “existential” climate change, both endangered and invasive creatures, and energy policies now get a quick read of the headlines and maybe a paragraph or two. Do I really need to see photos of one more bombing and its victims in Israel or Gaza or Lebanon? How many more shootings in downtown Minneapolis do I really need to hear about? I do understand that “when it bleeds, it leads” has been a long time principle that news publishers have adhered to for many, many years, but sheesh!

The biggest problem I see with news-overload is that it may be desensitizing me to important issues I should be more knowledgeable about. I wish I had a strategy or guidelines that would allow me to stay informed, but not be burned out. Suggestions, readers?

Oh, please vote. Our grandchildren’s futures will hinge on this election.