A Journal of two weeks in Morocco with 15 classic cars in Tony, our 1982 Fiat Spider

March 2018

14 March – We’re off on the road to Morocco

On the road at last.  It was a nice day of driving, at least the first part and the last part.  The first was the trip south from home to meet up with JJ and Pat and then the drive down to the Spanish boarder where we are spending the overnight. The initial couple hours were through the hills and valleys and countryside of the Dordogne.  Then you drop down on a fairly flat plane with takes you to and through Toulouse.  That was the worst part as we had to traverse the traffic and bypass road around the city.  

Finally, we made it to the foothills of the Pyrenees.  About an hour out, the snow covered mountains rose up in the distance. The closer we got the more the lower levels began to give stark brown foothills and deep valleys.  There were many waterfalls and streams tumbling along the road.  Finally we reached the real mountains themselves and began the long climb of switchbacks  up into the snow pack.  The day had been sunny but was clouded over as we got into the mountains themselves.  The snow was meters deep on both sides of the road and the road very windy.  We reached to top of the pass at almost 2000 meters and then dropped down to the other side.   We are still in France but really only a few miles from the Spanish boarder.  

I’ve followed JJ the entire way.  My new iPhone charger/stand is a total piece of junk.  It won’t stay attached and then doesn’t even charge the phone as it is supposed to.  Tomorrow I get out a simple clip style suction cup and just use a regular iPhone cord into the plug.  What a waste of 25 Euros.  

We had a lovely lunch at a small town along the way.  It was a town made of bricks and columbard  which are big wood pieces that are used to frame the building with the bricks inside.  The village was also a series of arcade streets with the upper floors built out over the sidewalks.  We had a terrific salad and steak frites lunch for 11 Euros a person.  Not bad at all and far more than I usually eat at night.  

Now we are at the hotel in a small town surrounded by the mountains.  It is Saillagouse.  There is a wonderful view of snow capped mountains out the window.  The hotel is a member of a group that has some renown for its cooking (chosen byJJ of course).  So it will be another meal tonight.  I am in the room with a bottle of red winding down from the long day of driving.

JJ is in his baby blue 1950s MGA.  It has no heater and no windows so they are bundled up.  Today was not so bad but tomorrow it is supposed to get down into the 20s here.  Thankfully Tony has a great heater.  He did great today.   It is really a pretty good road car.  A bit noisy with wind buffeting but comfortable and and fun to drive.  After my first fill up, I did the math and found that I’m getting about 32 mpg.  Not bad for an old boy.

We do have too much stuff and it is packed to the gills.  I supposed I could have left out the 2 bottles of Armagnac and red wine but there you go.  I should save the wine.  Most of the places we’ll be staying will have bars so I will be able to buy a drink but that costs more money.  I’ll just play it by ear.  But at least for the next few days, I can have a glass in the room which is what I prefer rather than hanging out at the bar.  

I am writing this journal as a daily email to myself as I cannot figure out how to make my Word program on my iPhone work.  I have written on it before but it seems to need an “authorization” and I’ve forgotten how to do that or what my password is.  I did not bring along my computer or regular list of passwords so I’m left with just writing myself with a portable keyboard and then sending it along.  Another problem of not traveling regularly and being aware of what I need to keep myself up to date.  I really have gotten out of the habit of being travel prepared.  

It was so sad today leaving poor Bella.  She cried and cried and wanted to be scratched and paid attention to.  She knew something was up.  That is the hardest part of leaving for any length of time.   Sabrina, who is house watching for us, said she would stay some but it is of course not the same for Bella.  

Now I’m going to lay down for a bit and rest before dinner.  I did not sleep much last night waking up a bit before  and tossing and turning until 6:30.  Tomorrow will be an easy drive of 3 or 4 hours, more like the latter as JJ does not drive his MG faster than about 45 mph.  And with me behind, I’m constantly dealing with guys right on my bumper trying to pass and taking chances to get around.  Not good.  But I am happy to be on the road and I also found it nice not to feel I had to press the limit to get here.  So I’m trying to just enjoy it and let it turn out as it does.  

15 March – Day 2 into Barcelona

It was only about 3 hours of driving today. A mostly bright sunny day with temps in the mid 60s here in the outskirts of Barcelona. The drive was through the Spain down side of the pyrenees. Surprisingly, the vegetation and rock formations were much greener and brighter than the brown everything on the French side. We avoided most of the 4 lane highways until just outside of Barcelona. JJ never gets above 50 mph so cars are zinging up behind me and either tail gating in the way of the trucks or zooming past a the first possible break. So I’m the one dealing with covering JJs back side. But I’m getting into letting the pace be what it is and hoping that in. Morocco it will be less frenetic behind me.

The first real hiccup occurred when we pulled up to the hotel for this evening. Patricia went in to check into things as we parked. She came out saying they had no record of reservations. Not for us nor the group. She then called Jean Marc (the organizer ) and chatted a bit then told him. He gave a “merde” and said he would get back to us. Then a receptionist came out and said we were registered at another hotel in the chain, but further back out of Barcelona. So we retraced our path and now find ourselves way out of town. It will make it far more complicated getting 16 cars to the boat by 7am. P reminded me not to get into my Mr. M. authority being and that I need to let others handle things. I told myself to adopt Walter James’ dictum of staying flexible. I had assumed that JJ would call J C (the other car club member on the trip) and tell him about the hotel misunderstanding (Jean Marc did not give the actual address of the hotel to JJ so when JJ looked it up he got the wrong one, passed on to JC and me). And when JC got to the other hotel and called, his Porsche would not start. He got a jump and made it here but now he and JJ are our searching for a battery.

Stay flexible Gerald. Things will happen and there will be people to help fix them. I really need to stay way laid back. My only responsibility is to show up and be on time. The rest will take care of itself. It’s now almost 6 and the main group of cars with Jean Marc (JM) are yet to arrive. Not my problem. The only thing is it is likely to make dinner late and with a very early morning departure, in the dark, not going to be my best at leaving stress behind. Anyway, I’m up in the room and having some of my red along with nibbles. We are supposed to be able to walk to the restaurant. I’ve checked out the places around, I have no idea where that might be that close to walk to. It seems to be only fast food places.

Tomorrow, once the stress of up and to the boat is over with, then it is a total day of doing nothing. I’ve not done any cruise stuff before and while this is a ferry and the cabins are small, I intend to just chill for the day. I’ll have a chance to finally review the route book and figure out a bit of a plan for the next couple days. So with today’s relaxing time (after finally finding the hotel) and tomorrow’s enforced idleness, I’ll have a couple nice days off. I want to be up for the morning passage through the straits of Gibralter and then the landing in Tangier. We need to do a couple hundred miles to the south of Casablanca for that first day.

16 March – On Board to Tangier

I’m now experiencing the forced down time of boat travel. Nothing much to do but go along for the ride. And it is a totally smooth sea we are riding at the moment. Not the slightest movement other than the rumble of the screws through the water. It is a rather large boat with a huge car deck and trucks below. We are told it is not very crowded today but plenty of families and small kids. The men sit in the cafe and play cards or coffee and talk. A couple tables of our gang are here as well but I’m sitting alone doing my journaling. This morning’s drive to the port was one of the most stressful experiences of my life. With the beginning of morning traffic of cars cutting in, and toll booths, we were strung out in a 16 car line. JM in the lead car with his emergency flashers going was driving at a rapid rate, not at all seeming to be worried about those of us behind. At the first toll booth, they went into the wrong lane, JJ behind and me behind him. Luckily, I hung back a bit as of course they were in a lane for automatic tickets and had to back out, with all our cars behind. We did manage to get through and they had stopped to the right to allow everyone to catch up. Then off again like a bat out of hell, shifting as the roads merged and we had to figure out the lanes as we had to change roads. And then we got to the toll both and this time, I was behind JM by two cars but the others went into other lanes and paid the toll and were out. This time JM just zoomed off and I was last and had no idea where the car with the flashing lights was it was so far away. I drove at the top end of Tony’s ability to catch up finally seeing them a couple miles up the road and managed to slot back in. As we get closer to the city center and the port, they would change lanes without signaling. But I had gotten into about 6th place in the line so could pretty much see what lanes he was getting into.

We got to the boat around 6:30 am and then waited in line until finally getting on board around 10:30. That part did not stress me. Being here was enough. But there were a couple cars who did not manage to arrive until around 8 pm they had gotten so lost. I don’t know what I would have done had I gotten out of line. I think this portends for what the week is going to be like. There are no specific addresses or road suggestions other than the names of the hotels at night and a map with a rough color line (which I had already done for myself at home but expecting actual addresses and roads, as in…” A real route book”. It is going to be the way it is and I’ll just have to accept that it is going to be this way and try my best to not let it get to me. Certainly not what I expect. And our car club is always far more specific even for our little Sunday outings. Oops, it looks like there. Is going to be a lifeboat drill so I have to quit for now.

Well that’s done. Not sure I think it will help. Most folks did not pay much attention. But I found where to go so that’s ok. The public areas are very noisy with families and children hanging out. Of course the cabins for families are probably a bit small. Actually, that is a nice surprise. We have two twin beds with a fold down bunk over one. With it up, the room has enough size and a nice bathroom and shower in the corner. So the boat is actually comfortable. Our ticket includes a cafeteria. But when we went for lunch it was really pretty awful and the salad we took was extra. So we’ve made the decision to go to the restaurant tonight. They actually have a lamb dish for 12 Euros. Not sure what it will be but it can’t be worse than lunch and I’m not going to do that again. So now just go with the flow until the morning. At least now I’ve figured out to pay for some internet time with wifi. Not sure what I can get as it is very slow and I can’t do anything using a password as it is unsecured. Problem, members of the group are now gathering and it is no longer possible to think and write. More later after dinner.

Oh, dinner. Last night we ate at a nearby argentine restaurant. The rest of the group behind JM did not arrive at the hotel until almost 9 and it was almost 10 before we got seated and even later when the plates of meat arrived. Actually it was a pretty good meal with plenty of wine. But it was almost midnight before we were back to the room for the 4;45 wake up. I was awake at 4 and just got up. We were to leave at 5;30. The folks all seem pretty nice and were their usual who are you and why are you here selves when we go into new settings. All have been with JM before and are enamoured of JM especially JJ. So I need to keep my opinions to myself.

17 March – An inauspicious welcome to Maroc

I’m writing this after the fact as will be made evident.

The boat was supposed to arrive in Tangier at 9:30. The rules of the game are you are to get out of your cabin 2 hours before so they can clean it for the turnaround. So while we left our bags in the room, we were up and packed and went to the cafeteria for coffee and something to get us started at 7:30. At dinner the night before (I did have the lamb chops which were overcooked but ok), everyone had talked about being up early. So we got to the cafeteria and it was still closed, not to open until 8am. No one else around. It did finally open at 8 with us the first in line. Others wandered in over time. All seem to know that the boat was going to be a couple hours late. How between us all leaving the restaurant together with one idea of the morning and all the rest but us found out the boat was behind, I do not know. But it was to be a theme of the rest of the trip as always changes were made without me learning of them until the last minute.

Now projected arrival was noon so we had until 10 or so in our cabins when they finally rousted us out. We took our bags to a bar area on the stern, with all 30+of us hanging out in one corner and chatted and waited and chatted as time passed. The best part is that though it was somewhat hazy outside, I was there as we passed Gibralter and manage to get maybe one decent shot. One thing done on my list.

And time passed and we had a sandwich. Then around 1pm they made an announcement that we were waiting for the harbor pilot to take us in. Due to our delay he was busy elsewhere. So we circled for another hour or more finally docking around 3. Then it is a mad dash downstairs with your bags to the car deck to get in and out as the spaces open up. If you are at the back of the deck, obviously you have to wait for everyone in front to get out. Luckily, I was one of the frontmost cars and right next to JM. So good. But then…it was the worst nightmare story of entering a country you can imagine. I should add too that every car entering Morocco, other than ours, was packed to the gills and strapped on top with goods people were bringing back. Some cars/vans literally had only barely enough space for the driver and he would have stuff all around him. And we realize going through customs is going to be interesting. At the first checkpoint, there are people running everywhere, coming back with a form you were supposed to fill out to present when you actually got into the customs check area. Why that was not given out on board when we had to have our passports checked by Morocco immigration, I dont know. So anyway, some of our group brought then back to the rest. And then we waited. And waited. There were three main lines into the customs area with about 8 lines of booths before that people were funneled through. The panels above the customs area said clearly, “Moroccan cars in the right two lines, foreigners/non resident cars in the left line. Of course that was totally disregarded. And there was nobody out front making things happen.

As one of the first cars off the ferry, I found myself finally up to within a few cars of the entrance to the customs area after traversing lanes across to get to the foreigner entrance. Just then JM comes up and says, you have to go back to one of the kiosks and have your passports checked and be logged in. Of the 8 kiosks, only 1 was open. However, I thought that is why I had myself stamped in yesterday by immigration on board the boat but whatever. So I dashed out of the car back to the kiosk. There were most of our gang gathered around the one window of the guy inside. He took about five minutes to look at each passport and then enter, one finger typing at a time, the information. I made my point to JM that I was in the final line and blocking the cars behind me waiting to get through the gate into the review area. He said go to the head of the line as did others. But there was one of our group there who refused to let me going ahead saying he had been waiting. So after him, the guy inside had my passport when an official comes down to the booth yelling, “Monsieur Gerald, your car is blocking the lane.” By this time it had also begun to rain and I was watching the guy inside type one letter at time, and hearing the horns honk. But I noticed something interesting, he did not stamp or do anything to my passport. Basically, it was the same info had been done the day before, on board, when immigration had stamped my passport with a special number. It was a waste of time. By the time I got back to the car, a dozen cars had gone round me on either side. This was to cost me another hour waiting to get inside the review area.

And now it was raining steadily when I finally got through the gate and was pointed to a row of cars and told to park and wait for the official. He was a little guy in a uniform with a hat that looked comically big on him. He pointed me to a spot and said to wait. Then he headed off to another line and took the yellow paper from those cars, mostly locals who had pushed into the foreigner line. He was then supposed to go to a kiosk where the car was registered, and a stamp applied and then he would go back to the car and ask you to open the trunk and he would ask if you had any guns or illegal things inside and you would say no and he would sign the little form and then take it back to the kiosk and give you a copy as you needed it to get out of country on leaving.

It would have been simple if he had done one car at a time. Except, he was totally overwhelmed by his task and the crush of people in his lines. For an hour, I watched him wander back and forth, a handful of the documents in his hand, getting wet from the rain, with locals besieging him at every step. It was now about 3 hours after getting off the ship. The rain was increasing and we all knew we had a 300 Kilometer drive to the first hotel…with no detailed routebook as to how we were to get there. The plan was that we would all gather on the other side of customs and follow a French guy, Mickey, who knew the country and had set up all the arrangements. But it was now approaching 5:30 and remember, I was one of the first of our group to get off the boat. Even with my being bypassed, I was still ahead of most of our group. At least I was in the review area. More time passed and each time the guy came bay I waved at him and pointed to the car and he would say, I’ll be there and move on with the others crying around him.

By now I kind of understood the drill that he would take the paper and go to the kiosk and emerge and then talk with the owner and they would open the trunk and he would then go back to the kiosk and come back and they would leave with their paper. But many of the cars in our line were the locals with cars stuffed. So they would be asked to take some stuff out of the car and he would peer in when he would come back around, and then they would stuff it back in. Obviously, if they were looking for contraband, or wanting to actually charge customs for importing things, looking at a foot or so inside, against a total wall of stuff, was not really going to find anything. But the charade continued.

Finally I decided, that I had to attach myself to the little guy. And as, french is an official language, I could actually communicate with him and said what about my car. He had taken my form about an hour before and was carrying it around in his hand. He got to it and said, you need to go to the kiosk at the back and have them register your passport. I pointed to him that I had that number and it was registered. He looked down seeing the number but was objecting that it was not there. Just then a guy came up to him wearing jeans and a hoodie. He looked at my stamped passport and the form and told the agent, yes he has all the documents. The agent looked at him and rescribbled the numbers on the form (I had them in the space above) and he signed it. The guy took it from him and said to me, Go to that kiosk there and ask the madame to register your car. Having seen the papers disappear into that kiosk, I did as he said. He did not seem to have a badge or anything, yet the agent deferred to him immediately. So I went. In my best and meekest french I asked for the car to be registered. One of the two ladies looked at me and said do you have your form and I showed it to her. She looked at the other, in exasperation and then said, follow me and she led out back to where the agent was fending off locals rather than inspecting cars. She cut in and asked him if he had reviewed my car and he said no I did not have the stamp. She pointed it out to him and then asked me to go to my car and open my trunk. After two seconds, she said to follow her back to the kiosk, where another lady spent 10 seconds entering data, I was given the form and told to have a nice day and be on my way. It was now almost 7 and the rain was slashing down and winds whipping.

I pulled out around and out, not really knowing what would happen and saw a group of a half dozen or so of our group, sitting waiting for the rest to get through. It included JJ and Patricia, sitting miserably in their MGA, no windows, rain blowing in, them already soaked. They were using a small rag to periodically mop up water and wring out the side. I had a large towel in the car and a roll of paper towels. Dashing through the rain I gave them to them coming back soaked. Patricia used the towel to make kind of a window next to her but JJ was still subjected to the storm. After about another half hour, JM made it through customs and told us all to go on as there was a french guy with his mororccan wife waiting on the other side of the entrance and they would lead us to the hotel for the evening. And now we are facing a 240 mile drive with a car that rarely goes over 55 mph with a full gale blowing and at night. I was already stressed from the long day and now was facing a drive at night in the rain. But nothing else to do but go.

After 3 hours, we finally outran the rain and were able to speed up a bit. My new night driving glasses helped me manage. At least we were warm and dry unlike JJ and Pat. We got to the hotel a bit before midnight. But we had driven so slowly that as we were taking our bags out of the car, the rest of the group arrived. We ditched our bags immediately and went down to dinner which had been held for us and thankfully, they had wine. I needed it after that day. And the food was decent even though fried fish. And then back in the rooms and to bed around 1:30 to prep for a 9am departure.

18 March – no internet no post but covered in my next post

March 19 – Marrakesh

Finally, a first class hotel. The last two night’s hotels have left a lot to be desired, such as funky smells and no more than one towel bigger than a postage stamp and no wifi. We arrived in Marrakesh to probably one of the nicest hotels I’ve experienced in all my years of travels. There are 3 rooms per floor per pod with two floors. It has a huge salon with two couches, a bathroom larger than the rooms we had the last two nights and a wonderful separate bed space. There is also a patio on which I write this at the moment…at the same time the call to prayer is sounding out over the city through very, loud, speakers. This will certainly penetrate the room in the morning. I hope not too early. Not quite like my 7am bells in the village church outside my bedroom window back home. We ain’t in the Dordogne any more.

Yesterday after a hundred or so miles of autoroute, we headed off to a coast road after paying a final toll. As I pulled away, I felt the car wiggle. The guy behind me drove up and pointed to the rear of the car. I pulled over just past the booths and the left rear was totally flat. The support guys which are part of the tour package, came up behind me and immediately went to work. They tried to reinflate it and found that the valve had cracked and the air was let out. It is remarkable that it happened just there. Had it been on the night drive before, in the dark, in the pouring downpour, it would have been awful. I had to take all the things out of the trunk in order to get out the spare. The guys already had a jack ready under the car and had the tire changed in five minute. There is a friend of JMs , Micky,who is helping guide and organize things because he spends a couple months a year here. When we caught up with the group he assured me we would find a place open today and get the valve replaced.

The drive was rather interesting. There is the poverty of people all walking along the road or in donkey carts. Of course there are cars but in the countryside it is as if they have not changed in a thousand years. The women and old men tend sheep and cows and the boys/men stand around. Everyone is pleasant and waves as we go by, The boys shout and give thumbs up. Tony is a big hit. He gets more toots on horns than any other car. All the members of the tour also comment on how great he looks. We drove along the coast line for a couple hours and were just about at the hotel when Mickey pulled us all over and came back to me. He said, you’re the one with the flat tire, there is a guy there who is open and I think can fix the tire. He went to fetch him while I emptied the trunk, he looked at it and nodded and Mickey said, we’ll be back in a half hour. We got to the hotel and checked in, awful and no wifi. But I met Mickey downstairs, we drove back to the guy, he fitted the tire back on and put the spare back in the trunk and I was good to go this morning at 9 am with all the rest.

Last night we ate at a fish restaurant, that town being a seaside fishing village town. It was an amazing progression of courses, all of the sea. Not my favorite as most know, but I enjoyed it and there was a lot of wine that flowed. That is one thing, for the most part, JM loves food and wine and we have not been spared some comforts of home. Yesterday for lunch, we ate in a small restaurant, le Portugese (this area used to be colonized by portugal). It was the most amazing 7 Euro lunch I have ever had. First a wonderful tomato salad, a huge plate with green peppers and onions and a bit of lettuce, then made to order Tagines. I had a chicken breast with olives and onions with a preserved lemon sauce. Absolutely fabulous. So I have certainly eaten well.

Today we drove along the cliff side above the Atlantic to Safi and had a tour of the pottery makers and another hole in the wall lunch that was wonderful. This time the Tagines were octopus and then dorado followed by a fruit tagine for dessert.

Then we headed to Marrakesh. Due to JJ’s MG being the slowest car at about 75 kph, the two hour trip took 3 then we were deposited into the heart of Marrakesh at 5 pm traffic with everyone surging around and scooters and people everywhere. Luckily, I somehow found myself behind Mickey and we got here around 5:30. Those who followed JM and his GPS did not arrive until 6:45. I would have been frantic with all that traffic and everyone getting split up at lights and circles and … So we have settled into our wonderful room and will head down to the restaurant here at 8 pm to join the others. I may even take a shower before and dress a bit out of my jeans after 6 days on the road. Tomorrow, no driving and we are on our own to explore the town. I’ll take the hotel jitney in an likely taxicab back. But we’ll see. I’m just looking forward to no driving and a bit of pure touristing. We’ve not done much but drive and eat so far with the small tour today. It is so sad to see so many people walking the roads and the levels of poverty. But they seem open and welcoming. Now for a real day of seeing a city without driving through.

March 20 Finally we got to a really wonderful hotel.  

The first two nights were less than stellar with mildewy rooms and postage stamp towels.  This place is truly wonderful.  There is a great sitting room, a bath as large as the rooms we had in the other hotels, a separate bed room and a terrace from which I’m writing at this moment to the sounds of birds chirping and the wind blowing and the fountain tumbling in the courtyard below.   Today was our off day, the only no driving day and we spend it in the old town and souk of Marrakesh.  First we visited the museum and house and gardens created by Yves St Laurent who lived here for many years as his vacation house. It was great but the crowd was totally overwhelming.  

Then we went to the Souk and had lunch on a rooftop restaurant overlooking the old town before wandering through the maze of stalls for  hours.  P got pooped and I got tired of seeing the same stuff but we did it.  It is a warren of stalls and artisans and people and smells and noises.  I’m glad I did it and experienced it, but I’m glad I dont need to do it again.  

Now we are back at the hotel and will go to dinner here with the group and not have to get out.  They people on the tour have been wonderful.  All of them have been on tours with Jean Marc, the organizer before so most knew each other.  We are the only newbies and of course, the only non French.  But we have been warmly welcomed, invited to sit with different people each night and find ourselves quite comfortable with them all.  Of course, they are all old car people too so we share that as well as the travel and enjoyment of seeing new places.  The organization has been mostly pretty good.   Tomorrow, we head to the mountains for 3 nights before coming back here for another night at this same hotel in Marrakesh.  Then it will be a long drive back to the first night’s hotel and the long drive the next day to the boat, hopefully not to have the same experience trying to leave the country we as we had coming in.  Then it will two nights on board the boat before landing in Barcelona on the morning of the 28th.  I am going to try and drive straight on home that day rather than follow Jean Jacques again at slow speed for two days.  Hopefully the Fiat will still be up for it.  I know I will be happy to be back home even though this has been a great experience so far.

March 21 – Atlas Mountains and disappointments

It was a long days drive over the mountains. The best part was the lunch at another place at the side of the road in a small village. We sat outside on a patio, in the sunshine though the temps were not that warm, we were happy. The guy did a veg tagine to start along with a tomato salad. Then he grilled chicken breast and then lamb chops so that was the good part of the day. Lunch was followed by a short walk up a hill (well, everything is on a side of a hill in the mountains) to the local school. Mickey in his travels has come to know the teacher and brings the other groups he hosts here each time he passes through. We were warned in advance and have all brought school supplies and also electronic equipment. I brought along two old cellphones from my old days at ACS, one being a classic motorola razr. I did check on ebay the going price for them first and its only about 40 bucks so I’m passing it along. They will be able to sell them to raise cash for the school. The kids were really sweet 7 to 10 year olds and sang two songs and thanked Mickey whom they seem to know well. That was a very nice break and we all felt we had done something important even as small as it was.

Then there was a wonderful windey drive up and over the Atlas Mountains. Though the roads were not all that smooth, it was a lovely way to go with the top down and wearing sweaters and having the heat on. But the sky was absolutely clear and the sun bright. Actually I have a bit of windburn at the moment and need to pay attention to tomorrow. It was really bright on my eyes which burn a bit from the sun. The road leaves a lot to be desired with stretches under construction and on rocky gravel. It is the only road between Marakech and western Morocco, and the eastern part of Morocco on the other side of the mountains The bad part of the day was the arrival in Ourzazate at a really pretty awful hotel. It makes the first two nights like they were 5 star. Amazing how comparisons affect what you think. Of course we were spoiled by the last two nights in a really spectacular place. This is basic if only that were the best way to describe it. The main problem is that we have to be back here in two nights. Tomorrow we stay in a riad in the mountains. At least this will give us nothing to look down to…I hope. And further complicating things is the internet does not work in our room so I’m having to write this in the main lobby where of course the group congregates. At this point they have gone to another room for apéros and dinner. So I need to move on along to that place. As there is no wine served here, and I m out (i forgot to buy some at the other place) so it will be a dry spell for me. At least there is a bottle of Armagnac left. I’m not sharing. It will be interesting to see how the dinner comes along. I hope at least that will be decent.

Later addition: Dinner was actually pretty good. Tagines that were flavorful and a nice tomato/lettuce salad which seems to be the typical starter. No gastric problems have affected folks so far. But then back to our dungeons. We have been struck by how dark all the hotel rooms have been. It is impossible to read in any of them including the very nice one in Marrakesh. There were the two couches in the living room but not a single lamp other than two small sconces with red lights in them. Impossible to see making it unusable unless with laptop. At least that room was lovely.

March 22 – End of the Line

Everyone was up early today as no one slept well at all. And the shower, well, it wasn’t one. Anyway, we hit the road and it was still quite cool from the night and we all had our tops up. The countryside has changed drastically on this side of the mountains. It is truly desert but still rocky not yet totally sand. The land is still mostly flat with some hills where the red mud brick houses are built in layers on the hillside.

As we were leaving for the visit to the Tador Gorge,This side of the mountain is also seemingly more prosperous than the other. The level of poverty we saw on that side along with horrible living conditions was not seen here. There are new villages it seems that are well made and clean. The people as on the other side are very friendly and laugh and wave as we go by. We stopped at one town for a while to do some shopping of local pottery and things. It was then that waves of young boys descended on us asking for a dirham or a ballpoint pen. It was the same everywhere, they learn early to ask. And the number of children everywhere is remarkable. It is a fast growing population. I dont see how the economy can deal with it as they get ever older and less accepting. Only so many tourism or jobs to go around. I worry for their future, and maybe ours as well. Immigration pressures will only increase.

We made it to our lunch town, Tenigher. It is the last main town before the desert. We were astonished on entry as there are rows of modern apartment buildings and stores along the streets. We got to the main part of town which again was far more upscale than anything we had seen other than the in main part of Marrakesh. Once again we had a terrific lunch. As we mounted the stairs to the restaurant on the terrace (but too cold to eat outside) we passed wonderful hotel rooms, each different but nicely done. We wondered if we would be staying there tonight and the answer was no we are staying at the riad where we are eating tonight. It was another wonderful lunch much like the others. It starts with a wonderful fresh salad of tomatoes and fresh veg. I know, we aren’t supposed to eat such things but so far we have and have survived. Then there was the tagine, wonderful again and fresh oranges sliced for dessert.

JM the organizer said, there are not enough rooms at the other place so some of you will stay here tonight. We were among the lucky ones, or so I thought. Now I’m being picky. The problem is we then went to visit the gorge, a nice walk through a stone canyon at the edge of a small mountain town where the evening dinner/hotel is. And those of us who are not staying here, are now forced to sit and wait for the apéro and then dinner to start and then end before driving back to our own hotel about 20 minutes away. Meaning we wont get into our room until maybe, maybe 11? That really sucks as we wont be able to enjoy it as it will be right to bed then up early and on the road again. That is the part of this trip I’m not enjoying. There is actually little time to actually wander and experience other than seeing things from the car on the road, stopping for lunch, more driving then stop for dinner and sleep and repeat the next day. The distances are of course long but the time is too short for this amount of travel. I knew that going in but the reality is a bit more aggravating. And when we do have some time available to rest a bit, such as now, I’m sitting in a hotel lobby waiting for the evening to begin. And worst of all, no alcohoI. I. know, how sad for me.

The people have been universally warm and open and welcoming. They all speak excellent French, immediately picking us out as not really French by our accent. But we have not really had to learn any Arabic other than hello and thank you. Thèse last two days have been more what we expected in terms of the towns and the people. It was those first days of seeing so many poor people and animals along the road and the minimal living conditions of the villages we passed through. The crowd is coming in for apéro, so I need to stop for now. Dinner comes.

March 23 – On the way back home

Another bit of time waiting for dinner gathering for this evening which gives me my only time to catch up with my journal. Last night was a typical tagine dinner with a big salad starter. I’m really enjoying that part of Moroccan food process. In the end we did have some wine that was brought with us from our last « wet » hotel. But I was a bit in a funk with the thought of a long evening and then a drive back to our own hotel. And in fact we did not get settled in the room until after 11. But it was ok other than the bed being a board with a sheet on it. Or well, that is how it seem to me. There was a single also in the room which when I tried it, it sank me almost double in the middle. So unfortunately Miss Goldilocks did not find the one that was just right. But I slept, mostly.

The big deal at dinner was a local Berber group which played LOUDLY through dinner. It was one guy with the flute one associates with snake charmers and THREE drummers as if they really needed the extra sound. It was hard enough to talk without all that banging going on. But he flute guy really got into it. I guess he was the Berber Benny Goodman or something. There were 4 couples who spent the night in the hotel from lunch. The rest were at the one for dinner. This morning all those folks took their cars well up into the gorge we visited yesterday before dinner. The 4 of us, as we had already come back toward Ourzazate, todays destination, continued up the road. But we made some stops at places along the way, something we have not had the chance to do along the way so far. We stopped at a rose distillery which produces essential oil of rose and fragrance. It is a big industry here. And then as we hit Ourzazate we stopped at the Kasba built in 1750 for the Pasha of Marrakesh. It was an interesting tour of the palace and the supporting village.

Then we were led to our hotel. I assumed that it would be the same dump here as before, but no, not only is it upscale, it also has a bar, and I’m sitting in it, with a bottle of wine and plate of olives as I write before dinner. The group has wrestled away control from Mickey the guy who has planned much of this trip getting us to stop at his friends/favorite roadside restaurants and hotels along the way. In one sense I have enjoyed that in that it has put us more into contact with the real culture and not fancy hotels and restaurants. However, the hotel here in Ourzazate two nights ago blew his status. I did not know it, but so many of the French complained that Jean Mark (JM) decided to change hotels for tonight. I might even be able to take the first real shower in three days. That said, much of what Mickey laid on did get us out of the tourist traps, like this replacement hotel and more into the culture which he cares passionately about. Today’s lunch was actually in the house of a friend in a small village in the rose production valley. We drove through dusty rutted dirt streets to get to the house. It is occupied by one family with 4 generations under the roof. The women cooked the food. We were in their « living » room with carpets on the floor and cushions on which to sit. They did have a few plastic stools for which my knees were thankful. A communal plate was put on the table for each group of 6. One plate had veg and rice the next roasted beef and couscous. Fresh fruit is the universal dessert here. No wine other than « Berber whiskey » …sweet green mint tea.

It was a good experience for us all and then the walk back to our cars and to see literally hundreds of kids and adults standing around looking at the cars and us. Not often I guess for aliens from another planet to come into their village.

The most difficult thing for me to deal with is the constant request for « un dirham » about 10 cents. It is automatic by all the young boys at every stop. I truly worry about the future of the culture which feels the need to automatically feel that outsiders should give money when asked. That said, I certainly feel guilty with our little sporty cars and real lives outside of this place which we see through our windows as we pass by. I do feel like a voyeur in some sense and worry about my heart being hardened against their needs. The really overwhelming thing I have perceived is the enormous number of children everywhere. They are swamping the culture and economy here. And the impact on the future of the region and world will not be spared.

I’ve been sitting in the bar, mostly alone until now as the group wanders in. I had bought a bottle of wine, which I have cached under my table so I wont be thought the reprobate I am. Well, maybe the group already know that. And any way, other than today’s lunch we have been either served or brought along our own apéros and wine for dinner. I’m sitting at a table by myself, typing away at my journal and so have been left alone to my bottle and my writing and thoughts. That is one thing about being in a group of French, They mostly expect to do all things together. So my writing, which I have done each night has been recognized as giving me my own space. At the same time, it does set me a bit apart. But on the whole we have gone along and smiled and done our best. One thing I have decided is to not complain again. Life here has reminded me that there are more important things than nice hotels, wine at dinner and cushy beds. We are really lucky to be able to do this. And even at the level of life here, which is probably better than most other places in the world, when you put our lives into that perspective, we live in a bubble compared to the overwhelming rest of the world. So I’m going to put on a happy face and let my life be ok whatever comes along. While bad things can and will happen, I face none of the challenges these young and old people face here and in the rest of the world outside our American/Western European cultures.

Now only 3 days left, mostly just on the road, retracing our steps back to the boat on Monday evening. We go back over the mountains tomorrow and back to our Marrakech oasis hotel. Then on the road up to our first night’s hotel on the ocean, and the final days drive back to Tangier port and the boat. So about 300 kilometers of driving each day with not much other than lunch and dinner to break of the day.

March 24 Back over the mountains

Not really much exciting today. Just a day of driving back over the mountains on the same road as before. There is a huge amount of construction and gravel parts making travel slow. And being mountain road it is constant twisting and winding so lots of stress on the gear box and motor. And it has exposed a bit of a problem with the fiat. It started popping out of 4th gear. Not something too problematic in terms of getting home, just aggravating as I have to keep my hand on the lever or shift on up to 5th. But for the trip home on the autoroute from Barcelona or the next two days long drives to the boat in Tangier, I’ll be mostly in 5th gear and no real shifting, But it is something that will have to be addressed when we get back.

This morning the wind was blowing truly violently. It was blowing sand into everything and whipping around the cars. As we descended into a valley, the traffic was backed up. But I asked a local coming from the direction and he said pass. So I pulled out from the lane that was blocked by busses and trucks and around them and in front was a bridge over a dry river valley. A truck laden with hay bales, clearly overloaded, had crossed the bridge as a truly terrific gust came down the valley and it overturned on the bridge barely leaving enough for small cars to pass through. Luckily Tony was the right size. As this place is in the middle of no where, I cant imagine how long it will take to clear the road, the only road between eastern Morocco and the west over the mountains. Luckily all our cars were small enough to make it through where we had lunch again in a small village on a terrace under the sun. It was not temperature hot but we were protected from the wind and the sun really burns down here. That is one thing I have observed, is how much warmer the sun is here than in France. The sky is totally clear and being so much closer to the equator it really burns easily. I’ve been wearing a hat of course but my ears are exposed and one is quite red. We had another nice lunch of chicken roasted in Tagine pots. They put the on small charcoal burners. It’s quite effective. As I went back to the car, some young men, 20ish were walking by and everyone does here smiled and said hello. We began talking and they were happy to talk about the life here. They were born in that mountain village and their family’s live there but they go to university in Marrakesh, one studying biology. We talked about life in the country and they of course worry about getting jobs and it is impossible to find work where there families are. But they were back for the weekend to visit home and get away from the big city which they do not like.

One very interesting thing is how the men here touch and hold on to each other. There was nothing at all sexual about it, just friendship it seems and very natural to them. I did not ask them about the women and if they went to university as well. As usual the men were working at stands or standing around and the women and girls carrying twigs and water and even a propane gas tank on their backs. They are part of the beasts of burden here. We made it back to Marrakesh and followed our organizer JM who proceeded to get us all lost, his second time doing that. This time we got caught in it.

The car was absolutely filthy from the trip from these last days even though each morning I give Tony a sponge bath. But there was lots of red clay mud on the road today and it was time for a real wash. Once we got in the room I took it to a service station down the road and asked the guys washing cars if they would do it. The guy responded that I would be third and it takes a half hour each. I pointed to Tony and said, he is small and you only have to do the outside and the guy nodded. They put a big Mercedes SUV into the stall at the end and the fiat then was put in the back and the guy started on it and finished in about l5 minutes. the price 2:50 euros. I gave him a 1 Euro tip big spender that I am but he was thrilled. Actually the guy at the counter had charged me 3 euros but I did not complain. After I gave the washer guy his tip, he went over to talk to the guy at the counter and as I was leaving stopped me and handed me the 50 cent of the overcharge. No matter how much I tried to get him to keep it, he wouldn’t. And then I think of all the young kids and beggars we have encountered on this trip, and he wouldn’t keep a 50 cent overcharge. Life is funny. Actually the guys at the station all said how much they liked Tony so for them it was something special to do I guess.

So tonight back at the really nice hotel and we are having a birthday celebration for one of the group. He is in his late 70s married to a 30ish year old Vietnamese woman, his 5th wife. They say he has aged ten years in the last three. All that is left now are two days of driving back north and eating. The real way time has been spent on this trip. Too much car driving but then that’s what we have them for. But it has been the interaction times that have been most impressionable for me. Now I just want to get home which I’m planning to do straight back off the boat on Wednesday.

March 25 Other thoughts

What a treat today was/is. Instead of being up and hitting the road early and stopping for lunch, we have been given the morning here in Marrakesh. A lot of the group did get up and go to town but we decided to stay in and lounge and repack for the trip. With the time change last night we also had a chance to adjust. And now we sit on the terrace by the pool awaiting lunch. We will hit the road for a long drive back to the hotel from the first very late night. It is next to the ocean. And then tomorrow, the long drive back to the boat. In effect, the vacation is over other than some meals and driving through countryside that is really pretty boring. The best part of the trip has been Marrakesh and over the mountains. The rest was just car riding.

I did write about the excellent hotel we were changed to on Friday night in Ourzazate. I did not really though have time to write about the evening. It did have a full and open bar, which of course are not officially allowed though are permitted for foreigners. This hotel though also had a large number of locals come for the possibility. The dinner was in a huge room and was just a buffet. It was the worst meal of the trip, though they did have a pretty good salad bar selection. The place was packed with bus tourers from China and locals with families. The food disappeared immediately after being put out. At around 9 a group of local musicians trouped in, about a dozen or so, all with drums and began a drumming chanting, singing session that lasted until almost 11 inside. Outside around the pool, they had two groups, also in costume doing alternating sets, both also had drummers and also singers. One had an African theme of singing/chanting by the singers who were all women. the other group had a really intricate drumming pattern. I can see how it can get inside you and generate the animal spirits. We were pretty lucky in our room in the end.

The AC had a constant vibration rattle but it was cool enough at night not to need it. The problem though was the window could not be totally closed, leaving a crack that as the wind whipped up outside, gave a constant whistle. So another short sleep night which has pretty much been the pattern here. Which is why last night was so important as I face two long days of drives before getting on the boat. Then we spend two nights aboard before landing back in Barcelona on Wednesday and the long drive back home. Ahhh home. That sounds so nice. Now time for lunch. Of course all those who went into town are not yet back so we will begin the drive behind on time. So it goes.

This is not at all sending complaints. It is just reportage. I have done my best to let things happen as they do. Sometimes better than others but over all, I have enjoyed this experience. We dont do vacations with large groups as a rule. We have our own rhythms and things we enjoy so conforming to group norms is always a challenge for me. But we have been welcomed into this group and all the people have been quite lovely. Last night was the dinner here, another dinner at small tables on cushions. My knees just cant handle that. And more tagines after salad. It was in the bar area of this terrific hotel. But as with dinner here, the noise level of total hard surfaces makes listening almost impossible. Ah the group starts to arrive and I will not have the chance to concentrate further.

March 25 The last night

After 5 hours of stressful driving, w have made it to our final hotel in Morocco. It is the same one, on the ocean as our first night, last Saturday. The reality has been that we have only had 7 actual days visiting here. Today was more a drive day after our day recuperating at the last hotel. So it has been hotel to hotel. And tomorrow was supposed to be a morning here on the ocean. However, most want to get on the road and not have to take the autoroute. So we have decided to go along with JJ and a small group cutting through the middle of the country up to the port on the outside of Tangiers. It is about 360 k. So a long day to get to the port at 7:30 tomorrow evening. The boat doesn’t leave until 10:30 so it will be another late evening before we settle in. The drive this afternoon was very stressful. First getting 16 cars through downtown Marrakesh. And then on the autoroute 300 k. We went about 60mph while the traffic was going 70. That did not count the motorcycles who were crazy. There was a group of them on the road. The would zip through traffic and then stop and regather and then go again. One came up on my right on the shoulder, then cut behind me and around on the left between a car that was passing me at very high speed itself. It was very frightening to me. So it was a long way on the road and around Casablanca, and through toll booths, trying to all stay together. By the time we got here tonight after 7, I was pretty fried. One more dinner tonight and now back in the room, the waves crashing against the beach outside the window is a nice way to end this stressful day.

A two week trip was really not much here in Morocco. We all agree that it was a lot of miles on the road to get to a few places. We did see a lot of countryside as it passed by the car, but it was the time in restaurants and having a chance to interact with locals that made the special moments on the trip. Now I’ll focus on getting to the boat and then back onto Europe soil and then home. It has been a time to get out of my regular life and see different lives. That has been really good. One thing though, it reinforces how much I do appreciate my « regular » life. I look forward to getting home. I realize as I write this and the other journals, how much I use the idea of home and my life there. It has been eye opening to how lucky I am to live there. The folks I’ve met here are lovely and caring and see the world very pragmatically. They are dealing with each day and getting to the next. And they are very committed to family and the life as it is. That has been a wonderful education for me and reminded me of what is important.

March 27 On Board back home

Just a brief note before having to gather with the group for the « celebration of our trip » one of their traditions. Yesterday was one of the best days of the trip in the sense of we had a chance to go through countryside make stops and have a view of a Morocco that was not evident during most of the week in Marrakesh and over the mountains toward the desert. There it was all red clay and dust and no green or vegetation to speak of. Yesterday we went up the north part to the boat at Tangier. We did not go with the main group which originally was to stay at the hotel until afternoon then take the autoroute 4 hours to the boat. But JJ and a few others of us left at 9 and followed the regular roads up cross country to the port. But at times we were close to the coast still and actually made it to the town of Larach which I thought the prettiest of all those we had seen. It was all painted white rather than the reds and browns in the rest of the country. They had a lovely walk along the Atlantic.

When we parked the cars the guardian, the guys who are everywhere to look after cars for a small tip/fee said that the town market was just a couple blocks away and we could buy fish there and the restaurants around the hall would cook them for you. So away we went, which was nice for not driving and had a great time wandering the market. I finally found some harissa to bring home and we found our fish.

They cleaned them and we walked across the street and had a long table on the sidewalk where we enjoyed the street life and ate our fish and had salads and other things from the restaurant. It was one of those special little moments that you hope will happen on a trip, totally a flâneur moment and unscripted.

After lunch and waiting around for the rest of the group to arrive, which they didnt’ due to a tire blow out. So JJ and us and another car which were left headed out to the port which was a couple hours drive ahead. At this point the countryside was hilly and forested and also highly cultivated. I’m still overwhelmed by the folks still farming with donkeys and mules and tending/grazing their animals along the road and fields. This part gave me a totally different sense of the place and people. I now got a sense of the richness of the country. Of course it was partly because it is more like what I’m familiar with, not like the desert hard brown ground of the land in the south an on the other side of the mountains.

Then it was the 4 hour inch by inch process to get the cars onto the boat. They would have five lanes of one checkpoint, then funnel down into one. Then we arrived at a series of 3 lines that led to the boat which also funneled down into one where we were put in a line about 7 cars long on an elevated platform and told to leave our cars. Then this device that surrounded the platform attached to a huge truck, passed along the platform and xrayed the vehicles. That was amazing. Finally, one more passport check and then a final visual check of trunk and under the cars before we drove onto the boat. It was now about 11 pm by the time we got to the room and went to the cafeteria for a salad and some cheese and a small bottle of wine. I did not get to bed until almost 1. It was at that point that I realized our room was pretty much over the engine room and the vibration and sound was pervasive. I slept some but was awake at about 5 and tossed and turned the rest of the morning. Now we head to the bar to celebrate. The boat is not as crowded as the one going the other direction but it does have its share of crying babies. The only place the internet works is in the public spaces so I just try and space out and write. It is a day to endure and then up early in the morning for the departure and the lines of customs and immigration before taking the road north and home. Oh how wonderful that sounds despite the fun I’ve had. There really is no place like home.

March 31 – upon further reflection

I thought the food was some of the best parts of the trip.  First it meant we were not driving.  Second it meant we were enjoying each other’s company.  I tried to sit with different people all the time although we often did end up with JJ and Pat and J C and Suzanne. I did not want to be a constant burden though I am far more interested in knowing the details of what’s going on than what is written.  And things would change verbally and everyone but us would know.  So I did depend on JJ a lot and also probably made myself a pain in the ass to Jean Marc by constantly asking questions that everyone else knew the answers to.  Everyone said, dont judge JM by this trip which was mostly planned by Mickey. It was JM who changed the hotel from Mickeys plan and usual place.  Yes the rooms were far nicer at the new place but the food was better at the old one.  Actually the worst food we had was at the big hotel we moved to as it was the buffet that could have been at any hotel or cruise ship anywhere.  So in the end am I glad I did it, of course.  The small hassles were just that.  

The overall experience of traveling in a foreign culture and meeting the people there was well worth it.  And in the end it was the warmth of the people, how they smile and laugh despite whatever their economic circumstance.  And with that said, I have to note that it also applies exclusively to the young boys and the men. We were not exposed to any women in any sense.  They are truly invisible other than seeing them working the fields or carrying stuff.  Even the girl children are separated from the boys and do not venture out to make contact unlike the boys who come up to you everywhere asking for a dirham or a ballpoint while laughing and talking too.  

OK, time to move on.  I have to address Tony’s gear box problem.  It keeps shifting out of 4th and I want to take it on the VAP club 4 day tri to the Loire.  It really is very fun and easy to drive and pretty comfortable for having spent two solid weeks on the road.  I have not made an exact estimation of the distance but feel it must be around 2500 miles or 4000 kilometer or so.  Other than the valve job and now paying attention to the gear in 4th, he never missed a beat.  And in all that he used about a quart and a half of oil.  Not bad at all.  At autoroute speeds of 110 or so, the consumption went down a bit to 8.5 miles per liter.  But then, my speedo is inaccurate so I have no real way of knowing.  I need to call Phil (my mecanic) and get Tony in for the transmission to be looked at and fixed.  

What a difference it was getting into the Jag today for the trip to Périgueux.  Quiet and responsive and luxurious.  But yet, not the same fun and actually comfortable ride as in Tony. It is much harder and not as easily pushed about.  For long trips however, the Jag has it all over the others. Well, perhaps a bit but then Dante is a wonderful road car and Tony has been terrific. Not bad options just depends on the trip. And after all this, I realize what a lucky guy I am to have options. Not like most of the Moroccans I met over these last two weeks. .