Backpacks and Flipflops: Morocco...Part 1, Welcome to another world.....riffing in the Rif Mtns, the Blue City, road to the ancient city of Fez

Morocco...part 1

We leave Tarifa, Spain on a hydrofoil ferry for the quick 45 minutes crossing to Tangiers, Morocco. The customs, the trip across the Strait of Gibraltar and entry into Morocco is quick, painless and totally hassle free.

Spanish customs in Tarifa waves us through without any issues. Once on the modern, clean ferry we line up to go through Moroccan border customs. Within a few minutes visas are collected, passports stamped and we settle into airplane-style seats for the uneventful crossing to Tangiers.

We ponder the ever closer Moroccan coastline...people have warned us over and over...Be prepared for unrelenting hassling, locals in your face and chaos.

"Yea, you've traveled....... But, you haven't seen anything like Morocco. Watch out," we are told.

We have also been told about the Tangiers port - all the 'bad' things that could happen...the lack of personal safety, the in-your-face pressure from locals, even theft.

We disembark our ferry, leave the dock and look for a bank machine somewhere in the port. We experience zero hassles. NO ONE is in our face. One taxi driver even helpfully points out the bank machine needed to take out Moroccan $$$.

We get our Dirhams, bargain with some taxi drivers to take us to the bus station and head through the streets to the Tangiers' bus station.

The taxi lets us off across from the station. We are faced with crossing 6 lanes of traffic.

Just might get killed in our first hour in Morocco trying to get through the traffic. No worries, drivers stop, as we weave our way across.

So far, it's been a painless 30 minutes from the time we stepped off the ferry, found an ATM, haggled with a taxi driver and arrived at the bus station.

The station welcomes us with the usual chaos of noise, movement and bustle. Ticket sellers screaming out various destinations, food vendors hawking a number of edibles and people hurrying everywhere to catch their bus.

Immediately, a ticket seller spots us and yells, "Chefchaouen!!!"

We reply with "Si/Oui!" We are directed to the correct ticket window and easily purchase our tickets to Chefchaouen - the famous Blue City high in the Rif Mountains.

With an hour to wait, we head off to find some mint tea to celebrate our arrival in Morocco.

The 3 hr bus ride weaves ever higher into the Rif Mountains and towards Chefchaouen.

Chefchaouen - the Blue City

We spend several days in the wonderful, sprawling Medina of Chefchaouen. Our room is located in the Casa La Hiba - a 300 year old family home with several rooms. Run by 2 brothers, it is a beautiful, quirky oasis for our time here.

Roof top terrace

A little tough going for a friendly giant...

Chefchaouen Market

We explore the town, its alleyways, narrow streets and blue-stained decor.

The town was closed to outsiders until 1920. Little seems to have changed in the shadowy blue-hued pathways where men still wear djellabas - the hooded full length cloaks...which look to be the inspiration for the Obi Wan Kenobi of Star Wars fame.

We wander, get lost in the quiet, tourist-free Medina. Locals are open, shopkeepers friendly, food is generous and at a good price.

We head out from the Medina for several short day hikes. Views are impressive as we climb the slopes of the Rif Mountains behind Chefchaouen.

Found this shy, little Berber beauty adorned in a cactus silk scarf and a jacket length djellabah in this family run clothing store. I think she'll come along!

The nights are mountain-cool here in early November, while the days are sky-blue, warm and clear.

Hate to leave this tiny paradise, where children play games on the front steps of homes and cats ponder the passing parade of people. But, it is time to move on.

The Road to Fez

We buy our bus tickets (the day before - to ensure our seats) and head down from the Rif Mtns to Fez.

Our 4.5 hour bus ride goes quickly. A full bus of travelers and locals. The bus is clean and keeps to the schedule. We share some sweets with a Moroccon family and are repaid with some wonderful home baking of quiche! Fantastic.

We soon leave the rugged Rif Mtns behind us and descend into the Moroccon plateau. This vast plain goes on for hours as we head towards Fez.

Although the growing season is over, evidence of a fertile region is widespread.

We arrive in Fez by late afternoon. Grabbing a taxi, we head to one of the gates of the Medina, near where our Riad (family home/hotel) is located.

We are met at the entrance by one of the Riad's staff and lead through the rabbit-like warren of walkways in the old city.

We spend several days exploring the labyrinth of maze like passages. We get lost, ask for directions, inspect shops, bargain for Berber rugs.

During our days here, we have ZERO problems. Shopkeepers invite us in, to look, to buy. Most are very friendly. French is used everywhere now. Amazing how a little high school French will get you by.

We take a tour of a leather tannery. This tannery is little changed from the 11th Century.

Men still immerse themselves in vats of colored dyes and a vile concoction of poisonous, carcinogenic chemicals, including acids, camel urine and pigeon dropping. (We kid you not!)

The process generally takes 45 days from the time the cows, goats, camels and sheep have donated their skins.

The process of soaking, stripping, dyeing and tanning to make our leather jackets, purses etc creates vast amounts of ugly, destructive waste. Without any treatment, the toxic mess is just dumped into the river that runs past the tanneries and through the town of Fez.

Dye colors are all from natural sources.

Much like squishing grapes with your bare feet to make wine, the men stomp on the skins barefooted, in shorts, amid fumes of chemicals and the powdered dyes being poured.

A rug co-op showcases a fabulous display of Berber hand made rugs, along with modern designs and blends.

We ponder and bargain over a Berber beauty. Before we do business, we sit and have tea. In this, generally, alcohol free country, we drink tea..wonderful blends of jasmine, mint and herbs. Our sugar intake has skyrocketed.

We wander throughout the Medina, encountering little hassle. No pickpockets, we feel safe and comfortable, even in the evening, after dinner.

This is an old, crumbling, working, living Medina, full of cats and the smell of urine (camel) near the tannery. Recognized as an UNESCO Heritage site, work is being done in sections to improve, restore and upgrade.

The Medina is full of shops offering just about everything..from clothing to sweets, carpets to haircuts...if you need something, it should be here. The Medina is really the equivalent of the modern mall, the major difference being the abundance of hand made items.