Morocco is only a Ferry ride away!

After leaving Sevilla, we took the bus down to Tarifa. It was only a little over
2 hours away, and Spain’s windsurfing capital. I do not know how to windsurf;
I doubt that Kristen does, although to be fair I didn’t ask her, this was not
however, the point of our journey.

From Tarifa it is only a short ferry ride to Tanger, Morocco, on the African
continent. We had heard many wonderful things about Morocco, like the
beautiful cities of Fez, and Casablanca, and overnight camel rides into the
dessert in Marrakesh, but this time around Tanger was our goal.

Having also heard a lot of bad things, like it is not safe for woman, and
everyone is out to scam you, we were a bit nervous, which is why when Hasan,
a native Tanger man asked to be our guide, we gladly agreed. It was a good
thing too, Morocco may be only a ferry ride away, but it might as well be a life
time.

So off we go, with Hasan, round the ancient and small streets of Tangers that
is more like a labyrinth. He showed us Mosques, and bakeries, men making
handmade mosaics, and 800 year old trees. Did I mention it was pouring rain? I
should mention that it was pouring rain, but we had gotten used to it
in Lisboa, so no problem.

We went to an indoor market that had meat fish, fruits and vegetable. We
bought dates, and oranges, and olives and bananas, never spending over 5
Euros. Kristen even had a little rendezvous with a fish ;) We were then invited
in for mint tea, while a carpet salesman showed us the beautiful handmade
rugs. Next was a medicinal/ spice shop that has cures for whatever ails ya, we
got saffron and a wonderful smelling Moroccan spice for chicken. Then off for a
wonderful lunch at a restaurant I would never be able to find again if I tried.

Now all the while we are being paraded around the streets the men are
whistling, and saying hello, and even yelling, making us giggle, laugh,
and sometimes cringe. My friend Kechura had it right when she said “Watch
out for those Moroccan men, they love Canadian girls!” I think you would never
have low self esteem in Tanger.

So we are full, and satisfied, and a wee bit too happy about having now half
a dozen stamps on our passport. We board the ferry again, and return to our
beloved Spain. Hasta luego Morocco, until next time.