Arnold and Rey’s trip – Days 5 – 7

Day 5 – Sun, 30 Dec 2007, Malaga (Spain) to Algericas (Spain), Algericas to Tanger (Morocco), Tanger to Casablanca (Morocco)

The drive was 90 minutes as expected and we arrived 2 hours before sail time as we were instructed. “Checking in” took 10 minutes and we drove over to the point where we embark. We stopped at the police check point as there was nobody home. A gentleman did arrive a while later. Checked our passports and no problem. Still unsure if Rey really needed a Schengen visa but better safe than sorry. Next was he wait for our ferry. We ended up waiting almost 2 hours as it arrived late. Drove on board and headed up to the passenger area in search of a bar. Found it but they only had baby cans. Noticed a queue of people forming and then realised that we passport control was on the ferry. There were ladies standing around with forms in their hand that the passengers needed to fill in but not instructing passengers of this. Anyway we got forms completed them and joined the queue. There were these 2 French speaking ladies who were sitting on the chairs alongside the queue. We passed them and the queue moved and as we got close to our turn they came to stand almost alongside us.

I commented to Rey, “these chicks are jumping the queue”. Surprisingly the guy behind us over heard me and my comment kind of triggered him off as he also commented about the ladies jumping the queue but he was much more aggrieved – being vulgar. It didn’t really bother me. It was wrong of the ladies to jump the queue but I figured we not going to get to Tanger any quicker with or without queue jumpers. Anyway there was a gentleman in front of us and they basically slotted themselves behind him and in front of me. The guy behind was starting to build his own mountain and carried on with his comments.

When it was the ladies turn at the counter he went up to the official and said something in a foreign language which was too the effect that the ladies had jumped the queue and should go the back. Not sure what the official said to the ladies but he returned their forms and passports (I think Algerian) and the ladies walked off rather annoyed. Instead of going to the back of the queue they went to sit down not far away. Soon after we heard them screaming in French and gesturing towards the agro-man. We got our passports stamped and went to sit down. Agro-man sat not too far from us but kind of around the corner. The Algerian ladies found him and gave him a loud verbal bashing in his face, hand gestured included. Agro-man got up and went to sit elsewhere. Okaaaay. Some action.

We moved to the rear of the ferry as I wanted to take a photo of Spain. Asked an elderly gentleman, who was comfortably slouched in his seat but didn’t appreciate this at the moment of asking and when I did I immediately said that it’s okay and that he should relax but, he replied that he has had his fair share of travelling and doesn’t mind taking the photo. He recognised our accents so asked if we South African. Turned out that so was he. An Indian gentleman from Lenasia, Johannesburg. Saffas are everywhere. After the photo we got talking. He was travelling with 3 family generations. Him, his wife, daughter, son-in-law, and 2 grand children. They had flown into Spain hired a car and travelled around Spain and where no heading to Morocco. They had no accommodation booked and no specific destination. I thought how wicked especially at that age to still have a desire for adventure.

We got chatting with the rest of his family and shared some typical Saffa jokes like how much luggage we travel with. Rey and I were bot of the opinion that we had too much luggage and now this Saffa family had the same opinion about their luggage. We joked that Saffas travel with a roof-rack on the plane. The elderly gentleman (don’t think we got his name) said their plane from SA had a trailer. We took some photos with them and chatted a little more. Oh also saw some dolphins along the journey. They were leaping out the sea. Great sight albeit brief.

Just before we were to dis-embark agro-man came up to me and asked if the Algerian ladies had asked me if they could stand ahead of us. I said, “No!”. He then asked if I may stating that to the police. I thought, “WOH!!! What’s the big deal about people jumping a queue”. No he wanted to teach them a lesson and report them to the police and wanted me to be witness. I obviously told him that I want nothing to do with it. Rey was of the same opinion but I think for a reason other than the obvious, it’s no big deal but, rather we don’t have to the time to be getting involved in lodging police reports. Not sure what happened thereafter but we joined to the queue to disembark. As it turned out we were standing in the foot passenger queue and were called out to move our car. Got to the car hold and ours was the last car even though it was parked 2nd from the front. In fact cars travelling to Spain were boarding.

Drove off and stopped at Customs and this was were the fun started. The Algerian ladies and the elderly gentleman they were travelling with were also waiting at the Customs point. They were parked in front of us on the ferry so it appears we hadn’t lost too much time. There were quite a few cars waiting at the customs point. A number of gentlemen in were also loitering around. They had reddish reflector jackets on. 2 Came up to me offering to help. Well not just offering but basically also providing assistance. They directed me to an office. I walked in and who liked a Customs Official gave me a green form whch I figured I needed to complete. Problem it was in French and Arabic. The gentleman who was “helping” me was joined by another gentleman who fortunate for me could speak English. He took the green form from me and completed it for me. I had our vehicle registration details and carnet du passage with me. He needed the registration document along with our passports but, knew nothing of the carnet. He completed the form for me and told me that Customs need to check it, stamp it and which copies I must keep. I asked him about the carnet but he knew nothing of it. He told me that I need to wait at our car so I did just after his final comment that I must give my helper a “tip”. I gave him €2 but he wanted another €2 for his mate who had also offered his services when we stopped at the Customs point.

Waited for about 20 minutes when who appeared to be the Customs officials made an appearance. They took the green form checked it and stamped it and then asked to check our belongings in the car. We opened the first green box and this was packed with camping stuff to the top so he didn’t check all in the box. He asked if the other boxes were the same so we said yes. Oh he spoke little English so it was what we understood he was asking. He then told us to wait. Okay, we waited. He returned a while later with our green form and gestured me towards an office and saying something which sounded like “police”. I thought what is wrong now. Have they picked up something on the car or what? I go into the office and there is a gentleman sat behind the desk and he appeared to be having what appeared to be a semi-heated conversation with one of the helpers.

After a while he asks me for my passport and green form. He types some details in the computer copying from the Moroccan stamp in my passport. He does this a couple times and I’m asking myself surely there are not as many letters and numbers on the stamp in my passport as he is typing on the keyboard or why does he have to re-enter the same info sooooo many times? I then realise that the detail he is entering should be returning something on the computer but was not. He then asks me where I come from so I tell him. A couple more questions and then it appeared he basically re-entered by details. He then wrote over a number on the green form. It was then I realised that a number on the green form was copied incorrectly from my passport.

Everything no sorted except for the carnet. All the cars that were parked when we arrived had by now continued on their journey and the next batch of arrivals were queuing up. With their arrival the chaos returned. Lots of rowdy conversations. I eventually managed to pin down who appeared to be the head Customs official but, while dealing with my carnet he would also be dealing with other people requests. All the while he did not know what a carnet was and occasionally flipped through it pointlessly – every page is the same but, as he was trying to multi-task he didn’t pick this up. Eventually I had his devoted attention and he asked me what is this carnet and I tried to explain as he spoke little English.

At this point I realised that I should have reviewed this carnet to get an idea what needs to be done but, instead I had to figure out on the spot. I had a basic idea and Paul (Footloose) also gave us a brief review. I explained that we needed it completed by customs on entry and exit of a country and if not completed on entry when exiting we risk being told to go back to the point of entry to get it completed there before exiting. This was not feasible given the long distance between north and south Morocco especially when you have to take into account Western Sahara. I was reviewing the carnet and explaining it to the Customs official and when reviewing it noticed that it was in French and English. Thank goodness.

I pointed out the French information requests and the Customs official started reviewing it with a better understanding. He asked me to wait outside while he went through it again. It was proving time consuming trying to explain the carnet and get the Customs official to do the necessary but, rather spend up to 2 hours here than possibly 2 week round trip journey. Rey was getting concerned about the time as it was now past 1500, Casablanca is a good 4 hour drive and he was concerned about the conditions of the road. I was confident the roads will bed fine but, didn’t like the idea of having to drive in the dark as we had no idea where in Casablanca our accommodation was.

Anyway there was nothing we could do except wait till our Carnet was completed. Stressing was of no help. I approached the gentleman who helped me fill in the green form and asked if he knows of a carnet du passage. He didn’t but did say that I only need the green form and white copy. Oh well the Customs official had the carnet and was determined to fill it in. He called me back into his office and asked a questions about some print on the form. Explained that to him and hesitantly he started completing the necessary with my help as to what he should be writing. We were nearly there when he got up and said that I must wait. I waited for a good 10 minutes and still no sign of him. I went outside to look for him but, nothing. Where did he disappear to? By now our vehicle was the only one at the customs point and it was fast approaching 1600. Eventually the Customs official re-emerges. Her asks me what a “Voucher registered under no.” information request is? I didn’t know and told him so but, thought please don’t hold us up any further while you try to figure out how to do your job. Fortunately after a couple minutes he returned the carnet and said we may proceed. At last after nearly 2 hours waiting. But wait, the Customs official forgot to take the Carnet copy for the Customs at point of entry., I tear it out and dash back to the office to give it him, quick “merci”, “au revoir” and I was out of there. Phew!!!

Next concern was to find fuel. We decided not to fill up in Spain thinking that the fuel will be cheaper in Morocco but, the problem was we were now on a quarter tank so needed diesel soon. We were directed to the centre of Tanger by one of the Customs officials who at first said he doesn’t speak English but after listening to Rey and I talking amongst ourselves he eventually answered a question I asked a minute earlier and finished with “any more questions?” Not sure why he didn’t say he spoke English from the outset. Perhaps he wanted to hear what we were saying in English in particular if it was anything bad about the Customs officials. Fortunately we had been patient and had said nothing bad.
We didn’t have to drive far into the town centre to find a fuel stop. Sure enough the fuel was cheaper about 7.32 Dirhams (DM) per litre which is slightly less than half of the cost compared to Spain. Exchange rate was roughly DM11 some change to €1. Rey had managed to draw cash from an ATM at the Customs check point but I was unable to too – card was not accepted but, no proper reason given. I was concerned that I may have forgotten my pin.

We asked the petrol attendant for a diesel pump and he asked if we want normal or super? We said normal and he directed to a pump with the word “gas oil” on it. Asked again if it’s the normal diesel pump and he said “yes”. After the diesel we asked for some water for the radiator and yes replied sarcastically, “normal or super”. Funny man. Fuel attendants are much like back in SA and having got used to the European way where it’s self-service I was proceeding to check the radiator but the attendant gestured he will do it. As the radiator was warm / hot he checked the reserve and topped it up to the brim. Everything else was okay so we soldiered on.
Traffic in Tanger town centre was quite hectic with cars and people everywhere but, we successfully managed to navigate our way to the motorway in the direction of Casablanca. At last we were in Africa and on our way.

Got to Casablanca around 2000 and it was dark. We had no directions to where our hotel was except for an address so we just kept driving on this road. Eventually we stopped at a fuel station and asked the attendant. He basically directed us back a couple kilometres and then turn off and ask for directions again. We did so and slowly but surely asking for directions every now and then we navigated our way to a bustling area of the city so figured wed must b e getting warmer. So far all the people we asked have been very friendly and helpful. We stopped at an intersection and asked a traffic officer for directions. He told us to continue straight on the road till we get to the ocean and then we take a swim. Funny man. We followed his directions and when we got down to the seaside asked again and voila we arrived at our hotel. Probably the easiest find so far and with a map or directions other than an address and asking where it is.

Parked our car and checked in. The car park was an open area in front of the hotel and off the pavement. Very little security so again we were concerned about the car – contents and rooftent but, there was little we could do except take our valuable belongings to our room.
The room was rather nice for €32 pppn – twin with large bath/shower/toilet combination and a balcony with seaview. We dropped our bags and headed out to find something to eat. I again tried drawing money. After selecting amount was asked for pin which I entered as the same before. A blue screen appeared with the number 706 in the top left corner and soon after my card ejected but, no money. I was worried that the machine ripped me off but, like other situations there was nothing I could do so we continued walking. Stopped a restaurant and our first order was beer. Heineken was DM25 and Special Flag DM20. Waiter took long to return to our table so I approached the bar to ask about the Special Flag beer. Nevermind the barman doesn’t speak English, the more significant discovery was the size of the beer. Tiny 25cl bottles. You gotto be having a laugh but, it was the only option. I chose Super Flag. Rey was also expectedly taken aback by the size of the beer. At least the Super Flag taste decent. Rey had fish and chips and I had beef steak and chips. The fish was a bit battered – not as bad as the English fish and a bit oily. My steak was 2 very thin pieces. Of course there was chilli sauce, too. I enjoyed my meal.
As it was a long day and some late previous nights after the meal we decided to head to the hotel and hit the sack.

Day 6 – Mon, 31 Dec 2007 (New Year’s Eve), Casablanca

Both Rey and I had a snooze in only getting up around 11h30. After phaffing a bit I popped out and bought a biggie baget and cheese. Tried to find a tomato but nothing. Being unable to speak French or Arabic didn’t help and I had forgotten the phrase book back in the hotel. No problem I stretched the last half tomato we had.
After brunch I sat outside on the balcony in lovely sunshine and started on my journal again. The last time I had updated it was on 26/12. (In fact as I’m updating now it’s 12H32, on Mon, 7 Jan 2008 on our way from Nouadhibou to Nouakchott. Rey is driving.) It was a great feeling, chilling on the balcony in the African sun, seaview and sound from sea mixed with the tunes from my lappy. I felt a feeling of satisfaction and achievement that we made it to Africa. Even though we had a looooong journey ahead and it was probably going to get tougher it didn’t bother my state.

Later that afternoon we decided to explore. Considered taking a taxi but to where so we took the car. I had driven into Casablanca the night before and had noticed that the drivers are bad. They do their own thing. In fact they tend to do and having done it maybe then look at what they have done. By then you have finish curse the whole of Casablanca cause you either nearly smashed into the person’s car or smashed into another car in an attempt to take evasive action. Of course it didn’t help that we in a right hand drive car driving on the right side when we accustomed to driving on the left. You had to be aware of literally everything around you. Well now it was Rey’s turn which was probably worse for him as we were setting out at probably peak hour around 16h30. At least the amount of traffic gave us that impression. It didn’t take Rey long to get a taste of traffic in Morocco. It aint nice. We were jerking all over the show as he accelerated and then suddenly break as some driver or moped or person just darted out in front of you and zoomed by you. At this point we were thinking that maybe a taxi would have been a good idea and we could have just asked for the city centre and got off wherever we found some action. Stop start we worked our way around what appeared to be the city centre. We found a sign for a parking lot but it had a height restriction of under 2m when our rooftent requires a height restriction of probably 2.3m. Soit was parking on the street which was full of cars. Luckily we came across one which was on a busy street but we had little to no other option so we parked there.

Set out and our 1st stop was an internet shop as I wanted to find out what’s happening with my bank a/c. The 2 transactions of the previous day did not show on my statement but, not much time had passed so there was still a chance they could appear. Checked some other admin things and then had to head off as Rey felt I needed to get a pair of formal shoes for a club tonight. I only had my hiking shoes and an old pair of brown pumas which had tattered laces. I found a pair of black moccasin for DM150. Not bad so I bought them. Not sure if they leather or not but, they cheap and will serve their purpose, hopefully for the duration of our trip.

We needed our obligatory beer stop now and found a pub. Typically only men inside all drinking baby bottle beers. We asked for grande and satisfyingly the barman had the glasses. Rey and I got chatting about the spectator element of sport. He couldn’t understand why or what people find interesting in watching sports like athletics, swimming and horse racing. One competitor is simply better than the rest so wins and there is nothing much else to it. I understood his point but I can watch athletics and swimming, not really horse racing. We also considered cricket as a spectator sport and Rey said he can watch a couple days test match cricket non stop. Not sure I can do that without doing much else. Anyway a gentleman at the bar overheard our conversation and asked if we are South African. We were surprised he’s question was spot on. He said the conversation about cricket gave it away.

We got chatting with him. Name, Latif. He was a local who had lived and worked in the USA for a while but was now back in Morocco. We had a rather interesting chat which delved into economics and politics. We also learned something interesting which is that prior to 1957 there was minimal to no record keeping in Morocco in particular a person’s date of birth. Instead only year of birth was recorded and as a result most if not all people in Morocco born before 1957 celebrate their birthday on 1 Jan of each year. Latif said that he will be going by his parents’ place tomorrow with a birthday cake for his Mom and Dad. We asked about New Year’s Eve (NYE) celebrations in Casablanca and he said it’s not big. He recommended either the hotels which have organised events but, require prior reservation or the Ain Diab area which was fortunately where we stayed. We also asked about the check points we had passed while driving through Morocco. He said it was due to the terrorist threat especially around the NYE period. One thing we did notice and for which we must give thanks to the man was that when the police saw Rey’s SA passport the occasions they associated someone to SA it was always “Nelson Mandela”. We were about to leave as it was approaching 20h30 when Latif offered to buy us a drink. Knowing we had a long road ahead of us and the beers were not cheap we or at least I immediately accepted. After this last beer we bid our goodbyes. Rey and I agreed that we had a good chat with Latif and that he was a friendly chap. On the way to the car we past a chicken rotisserie place. Bought a whole cluck and the local loaf of bread. Tried asking for hot sauce but no luck. I drove back to the hotel and decided to take on the locals with their driving tactics. I reckon it worked except we typically got lost trying to get back to the hotel but we eventually found our way there.

Back in the room we got stuck into our roasted chicken and bread for NYE supper washed down with JD and coke for Rey and water for me. I brought the JD from London. In between we received and sent texts wishing people happy NY. Actually I was waiting for our NY before sending any texts.
We were still unsure what to do for when the clock struck midnight and just before then Rey poured the remaining JD into the remaining Coke and we headed out. Got outside just as clock struck midnight. Toasted each other in particular being in Africa but, there was not much happening other than an extra hustle and bustle of people. We walked up to a club and approached a guy standing outside. Asked if he knew of an R’nB club. He didn’t speak much English but gestured for us to follow him which we did. Along the way people would stop and greet him so we figured he’s known in these parts so should take us to a good club. It wasn’t long before we got to it. We still had a good half litre of coke and JD left.

There was a crowd of some 15 guys standing outside trying to get in but our guy lead us to the front. This meant having to ditch the JD and coke as he wanted us to pay and go inside. It wasn’t cheap, DM250 each but, we were hopeful of a good night figuring the queue of guys outside should point to greater beauty inside. We got in and headed straight to the bar. Our guy asked for our jackets and handed them to the barman. Next he took our tickets and said we can get a free drink each. Obviously we continued on our whiskey run. We noticed about 6 ladies sitting by some tables close to the bar. We took our drinks and turned towards the dance floor. Another 2 guys came up to our guy and they greeted. The one guy looked rather gay in dress and behaviour. We then noticed that other than the 6 odd ladies we saw the rest of the club was just men.

Rey and I started fearing that we were lead to a gay club. I would have preferred a non-gay club or at least more ladies in the club. I approached one of the ladies and asked her if it was a gay club and she said “no”. She kinda explained that most ladies stay home on NYE’s night as it’s the parents’ birthday the next day and usually come out partying on New Year’s night. Okay. We tried to enjoy ourselves and get into things but it just didn’t seem right. Rey offered to get in a round. He came back with 2 whiskeys but more significantly said it cost DM300. Eish!!! Meantime our guy was asking for another DM200 for the doorman. We kept ignoring him. It was my turn to go buy a round and I decided to ask for 2 beers. It was the baby bottles again.

I asked the cost and the barman said DM300. These people are mad. We didn’t stay much longer. We thought we had lost our guy but while walking back towards the hotel he suddenly re-emerged. Fortunately he didn’t haggle for money. There were other places open so we went into one. There was live Arabic music and quite a few people but it looked more like a family affair as there were some young people milling about. I ordered 2 baby beers and it cost about DM200. We sat down and tried to enjoy the environment but nothing doing so after the beers we headed off. We stopped at the club next to our hotel which we pondered going into as we stepped out earlier. It seemed to have good music and some ladies but, they were not allowing in any more people. We disappointingly decided to call it a night. Decided that never again will we be in Casablanca for NYE and neither do I recommend it to anybody. So much for NYE in Africa. I remember telling a mate once that he should be careful what he wishes for as he may just get it. He didn’t quite understand but my wish to celebrate the NYE in Africa is a good explanation.

Day 7 – Tue, 1 Jan 2008 (New Year’s Day), Casablanca to Marrakech (Morocco)

We got up determined to hit the road asap and we did. Got wee lost trying to find the motorway but eventually found it. Drive to Marrakech was uneventful except for the police check points. Other than Nelson Mandela we did have Benni McCarthy mentioned twice or thrice. About once or twice did they ask about the current SA president and the one guy also asked about our next elections. Of course this was all in French / Arabic.

Arriving in Marrakech we had no idea where were going as we didn’t get a map nor directions as we were told that we could ask once we in Marrakech as it’s not a big city. So we started asking. Some people were helpful while others were not. We also became to realise that sometimes people gave directions without knowing if it’s right or wrong. Rey reckoned that it’s cause they speak some English they just say something, anything. Anyway we worked our way towards the Medina which we needed to do and the traffic notably increased and the rate was equated by a decline in the manner of driving. We came to realise that taxi drivers throughout the world are the worst drivers. South Africans complain about their taxi drivers who do as they please. Well at least they indicate even with their hands what they intend doing albeit it against the traffic laws. Here in Marrakech the taxi drivers literally do as they please without any indication and all around them need to take the necessary action to accommodate them.

We got to a point where the roads were very narrow and the traffic just as heavy. I managed to miraculously find a car park while Rey went on foot to try find our accommodation. He came back soon after saying that he found the place but it’s like a labyrinth. He was completely lost when fortunately one of the stall owners approached him and knew exactly where Rhiad 34 (our accommodation) was and actually walked him there.

The parking lot I was in closed at 20h00 as it was New Year’s Day but there was another down the road which we headed to. We were almost attacked by some young guys as we entered the parking lot which was an open piece of land. They apparently the parking attendants. We got our car parked and then started negotiating the price. Rey said that the Rhiad (our accommodation) keeper said it should cost no more than DM15. Very cheap I thought and also cause for surprise when our attendants asked for DM100 for 2 nights. We thought that this was too much so we told them to come with us to our accommodation. The Rhiad was indeed almost in a labyrinth, down little alleyways with rights and left all over. As we walked there Rey commented that when the stall owner showed him the way the alleys were quiet and he was getting concerned that the guy may lead him to some dead end where he would beat him and take his money. Nothing was further from that fear.

We got to our Rhiad after a couple rights and lefts. It was a quaint place. Our parking attendants in toe. We asked the Rhiad keeper again for what a reasonable cost for parking was and this time he agreed with the attendants so we duly paid them. Instead of appreciation they asked for a tip for bringing us to the Rhiad. Rey knew where it was and we carried our own bags. He was insistent so to get rid of him I have him DM16 but he wanted more. I had another DM10 but I refused to give it to him. After a short while the keeper told them to leave. Why didn’t he do so from the outset. We were concerned that the attendants may seek their tip from our car by either damaging it and / or stealing something.
Soon after the check-in formalities we headed off to the Place Jamaa Lfna (main square).

As we exited the alleyways the helpful stall owner where his stall is located greeted us and offered some good advice about the area. We wanted to find a bar with the English Premiership football. He told of 2 and we headed off in search of either one of them. We were walking down alleyways again which were sufficiently busy with people but still had people and mopeds whizzing by. There was the one with a young teenager whizzing by with one hand on the steering and the other with a mobile to his ear. Little pipsqueak. We passed a shop with tellies and some of them were showing the footie. It was Man U v Birmingham and Man U were 1-0 up with just under 20 minutes to play. We continued on. Got into Place Jamaa Lfna and you knew you were there. It’s a big open square with people milling about and some fresh orange juice stalls. Around the square were lots of cafes and restaurants. As we walked along we came across some snake charmers. They had a decent crowd around them at a decent distance except for a few brave / foolish people who ventured closer. On the floor were about 5-8 cobras some with their heads straight up as we understand to be in the attacking /aggressive stance. There were also some other thin snakes about and snakes in the guys hands being carried like they rubber snakes. I took my camera out to get a video clip.

A couple seconds later a teenager approached me with a n over turned flat drum type instrument. I’m useless at knowing the name of musical instruments but basically he wanted me to put money into it. I threw in the DM10 I had and again instead of appreciation he asked for more. I replied that I had no change. Mistake. Can you believe he tells us he has change. I ignored him, instead took one last photo and walked off. We walked into Café Glacier thinking it to be one of the recommended bars. It had a telly but nothing showing so we headed back and decided to take a right. We found another café also with a telly but showing local football. The café keeper later tried other channels but found nothing. We decided to move on and check out this medina. The medina was filled with alleys each filled with stalls selling various things – clothe, robes, paintings, dried fruit, nuts, ornaments, clothes including the obligatory football tops, shoes and many other things. Not being a shopper I didn’t pay too much attention. Instead the mass of people we had to wade through was starting to annoy me.

After a good while of meandering through alleys we decided to stop for some refreshment. We saw a café and Rey went to ask if they sell beer. The reply was no and that alcohol is not sold in the medina. Instead we had to head to the new town. Okay. We didn’t know that but at least now we do so now we needed to find the new town. Next challenge. After walking aimlessly for a while we asked for directions. We then learned that the local term for it is Gueliz. After asking for directions a couple times a gentleman at a dried fruit stall set us in the right direction. Head towards the mosque and then take a right (a draw) and keep walking straight (a drwat). I was trying to learn some French – directions at least. We walked and walked and walked and it was now getting dark but still we did not find a bar.

Eventually I stumbled across a tavern. Ordered a round and it came to DM48 and it was the baby bottle size again. I thought that wasn’t cheap but then I saw 2 more baby bottles on the counter and questioned aloud whether they ours. Gentleman at the bar said “yes”. Okay not too bad in price after all. DM12 per baby bottle. As usual got chatting to the gentleman at the bar. Asked him if he knows of any bars in the area that have the English Premiership football. He said that he knows of one and if I don’t mind he will join us. Cool, but then my scepticism crept in. I hope he doesn’t expect us to fund his drinks? We quickly downed our 2 baby bottles each and Abdul (gentleman’s name) also downed 2. We headed off to the bar which was just across the road. It was on about the 5th floor of a building. Was empty when we walked in.

Had a telly showing football but it was a recorded La Liga match. Spanish football is big in Morocco. We decided to chill and have a couple baby bottles. Slowly a couple more people cam in but it generally was empty. We were working our way through our baby bottles which we now also called cup of tea as they only 25cl. Abdul on the other hand was guzzling his. He was keeping up Rey and I combined i.e. 2 beers for 1 of mine and 1 of Rey’s. Scepticism crept in again that I hope Abdul doesn’t think we gonna be paying for his mad pace boozing. This was quickly dismissed when Abdul set aside his empties from that of Rey and mine. By now he had 8 to our 8. Apparently that is how a tab is run in Marrakech – your empty bottle count. Abdul also explained the cost structure of alcohol in Morocco. Simply the later it gets the more expensive it gets. Our baby beers were DM15 at the moment but at 22h00 they go up to DM20 or DM25 and from midnight they DM40. Madness. Later there was live music which the locals really enjoyed but not knowing Arabic music we didn’t quite appreciate it as much but, admittedly the guy singing sang rather well. The Man City v Liverpool game, played on Sat was eventually shown so we chilled to watch that. Soon after we decided to head off. We were still in searh of fellow travellers so Abdul hailed us a cab and told cabbie to drop us off at a certain bar, Afric ‘n Chic. Good décor and generally classy looking. Had a look at the drinks menu and bay bottles were DM40. Absolute madness.

They also had grande beer i.e. 50cl for DM75. Still madness but we decided to have a round. There were bar snacks of popcorn and olives. Rey sorted the popcorn and I the olives. After all we hadn’t eaten all day. In fact we slowly moving to one meal a day. There were a few people in the bar but, it wasn’t really happening. Also it looked to cater to somewhat expensive tastes. There was the one table with a bottle of Johnnie Walker black. I wonder how much that costs? So after our 1 round we decided to head back to the Medina. Earlier in the day Rey had mentioned that he was told that at night the Medina turns in to a food market and he was correctly informed. There were some 4-6 rows of foodstalls. We walked around checking them out feeling hungrier with every step.

There were lamb stalls with roasted lamb heads on display, seafood stalls with fish, calamari and prawns, there was ox tongue stalls, soup stalls, eggs stalls, kebab (skewer) and sausage stalls. We started with the lamb stall. We ordered 2 portions and were served cut up lamb’s head. Now I was expecting to taste some exotic food during this trip but I was not about to indulge that. Besides the portion served in a saucer looked rather fatty so we asked for meat instead. No problem they took back the diced fatty lamb head and gave us some diced lamb meat instead. Mmmmm was it good. Eat it with bread. We decided to have a 2nd serving. Total cost of 4 servings was DM60. The stall workers were very friendly and we took some photos of them before moving onto another stall. Yes, we were still hungry.

I stopped at a soup stall for a bowl of soup for DM3. Was a bit disappointed with the soup as it taste somewhat bland. Next stall was the tongue stall. Wasn’t cheap DM30 a serving so we shared one portion. Was also yum. Feeling suitably stuffed we decided to head back to our Rhiad. It must have been around midnight and the alleyways we walked down were now eerily quiet. At one point we were approaching a group of guys who as we passed them darted down a alley and through some door. I stopped and walked down the alley to investigate as we still in search for some action. It was a bar, which I understood to be not allowed in the Medina i.e. to sell alcohol. Anyway we decided to check it out. Again it was empty. In fact besides ourselves there must have been about 10 people 5 of who were band members. Turned out that there is a live band. Ordered 2 cups of tea which were DM40 each and relaxed listening to the band. They sand western music. One of the songs was “Hey Joe”.

Got chatting to the lead singer’s brother, who looked very stoned, and some other gentleman. Turned out the lead singer has sang in Sweden and France. He was okay except that hs voice was really course. He later explained when we got chatting to him that had been singing every night for quite a while now and it was beginning to take strain on his voice. He was a friendly chap. Very talkative. Rey was curious about his dress choice – black suit, pink tie and white long overcoat which was tied round the waist. At one point he plunked a 6 pack baby bottle Heineken under the table by my feet. I thought nothing of it but a few minutes later he, another band member (guitarist) and one of the gentleman still milling about came over and started propping the baby bottles in their jackets. All the while the lead singer was chatting away to us like the propping of the beers was not happening.

We of course acted oblivious to it. After the bottles were propped incl the packaging he continued talking to us saying that there is another club were travellers hang out and that he and his band were on their way there next and we welcome to join them. I was feeling full of energy when we got to this bar but, not so much now. Anyway he said that they performing as this bar again tomorrow and will be heading to the club thereafter. Thought this sounded a better plan. We chatted a while longer or more precisely listened for a while longer when the bar was closing. We headed out together. Band disbanded and headed in the various directions. I asked if they were still going to the club but apparently not any more so we parted ways and we continued our walk back to Rhiad 34. Took some photos of the cats in the dimly lit alleys.

Gave the duvet to Rey to sleep with while I used a sheet. Admittedly it was a bit cold during the night but I survived.

Oh, took myh 1st malaria tablet today. Decided it was time to start the course even though we still hadn’t encountered a mosquito but, it is advised that the course be started at least a week before entering a high risk malaria area. One of the better known side-effects of mefloquine, being the tablets I was using, is that it gives you weird dreams and hallucinations. In fact, Paul (of footloose) in his ever cautionary way advised that it may be a good idea to start the course while still in an area where you can get other tablets in case the dreams and hallucinations are somewhat too weird. I went to sleep wondering what weird dream I would be having.