I had always wanted to go to Africa. Since childhood those visions of steamy jungles or desert sands have kept my interest. When I finally got there, the Immigration Officials would not let me enter the country of Morocco. My trusted travel mate and I had not had our passports checked while on board the ferry from Tarifa, Spain. How were we supposed to know this? Some sort of international telepathy, perhaps. We quickly scrambled back aboard the ship to find a disgruntle and rude immigration agent. He was quite rude and I had to remind Claudette that some sort of verbal rebuttal from us would be futile, if not detrimental to our cause. I have always revered the man with the star regardless of the situation and fully realized that this sloven, rude, disgruntle little man could refuse us entry into his country.
When we final got ashore a bearded little man in a robe and brimless hat approached us and asked if we were going on the tour and if we were English. We answered yes to both questions. We were used to being asked if we were English since we were frequently identified by the language we spoke. He said. "Good! Good! and led us to a small Mercedes van obviously loaded with tourists. We dutifully climbed aboard and a young man in a Yankee's baseball cap introduced himself as Ahmed. There were nine of us on the mini-bus plus the driver and Ahmed. He spoke to the driver in Arabic and the mini-bus grudgingly started to move. Arabic is the major language in Morocco followed by French, Spanish and then English.
No one spoke French on our bus but there were five English speakers: Claudette and me, two recent college graduates, and a mechanic from Wales. The other four spoke Spanish. As we bounced along a rather brisk clip, Ahmed told us about his country and city. Tangier has over one million people, is the second largest city in Morocco and is building new hotels and modernizing its harbor to attract more tourists. The driver brought the mini-van to a screeching half beside an open area between some buildings and Ahmed exclaimed , "Everybody, camel ride!"
Here we saw a bearded man in a t-shirt and baseball cap with two camels. He was offering camel rides for one euro. I thought I wanted to do this, but after I saw that there was nothing to hold onto, I reneged. A few of the people did. One of the camels was very cantankerous. Our next stop was the bazaar. Ahmet was dressed in western style so he was easy to follow. Some of the men were in the robes and brimless hads while others were in western dress. We see very few women in less that ankle length skirts and usually with headwear such as a kerchief. The typical long robe with hood and veil is common. However, when only the face or eyes are visible, it is usually well made-up. Some are quite beautiful particularly with "raccoon" eyes. Also, some of the long dresses were of brilliant solid colors and are worn a few sizes too small. The streets were very narrow and crowded with people, push carts and frequent motorbikes or scooters but no donkeys or camels. I made sure everything of value was in my money belt. Our guide was quick to point out that although Morocco was a Muslim country we could readily see Catholic, Protestant, and Jewish houses of worship. As we walked by the tiny stalls selling all sorts of merchandise and food stuffs, I could not help but remember some scenes from "The Raiders of the Lost Ark". Thankfully I did not see a very large man dressed in black with a scimatar! I had thought the streets in the medieval Europe were narrow, but they were wide compared to these. In some places we walked single file. Vendors are constantly tugging at your elbow to buy their wares, usually jewelry of sunglasses They love to bicker about the price. But if you complete ignore them and never make eye contact they will leave you alone. However, if you offer any kind of encouragement they will stick like glue until you buy something or leave the country. We visited one shop in which native handicrafts were sold, beautiful leather work and ceramics. In one shop I bought some spices for a barbecue rub. But the creme de la creme of things for sale were the rugs. They showed us many beautiful ones that were hand made with intricate colorful designs. If I had had the extra money I probably would have bought one. And, of course, they had no flying carpet. By the way, they accept any kind of currency in Tangier. There is the probability that you could use Monopoly money, maybe? We ate a meal at a local restaurant and it was good, cous-cous topped with vegetables and mystery meat. The music was very interesting played by musicians in white robes and red fezzes. As we walked through the bazaar we could hear the call to prayer from the mosque, "Ashhadu an la ilaha ills Allah..."
Our three hour tour was over. Unlike Gilligan we did not have Mary Ann, Ginger and the Professor but did have two cute college girls and Welsh mechanic. I should like to return to Tangier with more time or maybe instead to Egypt. I understand that there aren't many tourists there now due to political unrest.