The write-up about our trip through the Tichka Pass is on the previous post.  The photos really can’t do it justice because the vistas are so huge and especially because I took most of the photos out the window of a moving car.

The kids fell asleep within the first half-hour after we left Marrakech:

I’m pretty sure this sign says something about stupid tourists falling over the side:

I would NOT want to be the snowplow driver!

Straight below the left-hand power pole is a shepherd sitting on the side of the mountain (you can click on the photo to enlarge it).  The photo doesn’t show you that the mountain continues down below the edge of the road so he is EXTREMELY high.  We saw a lot of locals sitting just gazing at the beautiful scenery.  Or maybe they were waiting to see someone go over the side.

It’s the same road on the far upper right, the left, and the middle of the photo:

Finally!  A picture of me!!

We saw a lot of erosion, and some homes balanced on the sides of mountains.

Aliya decided this was the safest way to travel:

This is a close-up of the prickly pear cactus.  The fruit is on the top.

I can feel the blog starting to get away from me because we’ve been doing so much and I have SO MANY photos and not enough time to post.  It’s late so this will be a quick one. 

Last night we drove both cars and the entire entourage to the area of Marrakech called Jemaa el-Fnaa.  It is probably the most overwhelming place I have ever been in my life.  Moroccan traffic is notoriously scary…I have never actually worked up the courage to drive here.  There aren’t a lot of traffic lights and they DEFINITELY don’t yield to pedestrians.  But Marrakech is typical Moroccan traffic multiplied by 100.  There are a ton of cars, plus caleches (horse-drawn carriages), scooters and motorcycles (no helmets, whole families riding on one scooter), bikes, donkey carts, buses, taxis – with everyone moving at top speed, weaving in and out…I have no idea where they’re going but they obviously need to get there asap.  When crossing the street last night we literally had to just run out into the traffic, dodging 3 lanes (I use the term “lane” very loosely), plus any animal-powered vehicles, and the scooters that appear out of nowhere.  It was extremely scary.  I can’t imagine any place in the US where I would face a similar situation.  The scooters zip up and down the tiny streets and alleys too, so you have to be on guard at all times.  It may be part of the charm, but the king would make great strides toward a more tourist-friendly Morocco with a little traffic control so the tourists didn’t have to run for their lives.

We lived through the street-crossing and headed directly for a pizza place I had read about (Lonely Planet – Morocco) because everyone was starving.  As we approached the tiny pizza take-out window, a guy offered us seating at the panoramic roof-top restaurant.  I didn’t immediately realize that it was a different restaurant than the one we were planning to go to, but I was just happy to sit down and look forward to possibly having food in front of me in the fairly near future.  It took a really long time but the food was good and they had cheese pizza that was acceptable to Adlani so that was a huge plus.  For 10 of us the bill was 667 dirhams ($75). 

We wandered around Jemaa el-Fnaa for a little while but everyone was exhausted and we had the street-crossing and ride home ahead of us.  Jemaa el-Fnaa is basically a big area in the middle of Marrakech where tons of people gather at night (during the day too but less so).  There are tons of stalls selling food, carts selling orange juice, and lots of street performers – snake charmers, Berber musicians and dancers, henna artists, monkey trainers…I really can’t describe what it’s like to be there.  It’s a total assault on the senses.  Ben loves it.  I used to like it more when I only had to worry about not getting myself run over.  It’s not as enjoyable now that I’m responsible for others.  Ben bought the kids these lit slingshot things and the kid demonstrated them by shooting one way up in the air, and BAM – Adlani was gone running after it.  You had to be there.

We took an extremely round-about route home because none of the roads are marked with the street names so my map was useless.  I don’t know if they have GPS here but the only one I have is on my phone which I’m not using because of the roaming charges.  It took us about twice as long as it should have but we finally found our way back and fell into bed.

This morning our family showed up at breakfast and the rest of the entourage (sleeping in the other apartment) did not.  Unfortunate since I paid extra to have breakfast included, but whatever.  Who knew that their sleeping through breakfast would start a chain of events? 

After breakfast we told the kids they could spend one hour at the pool before we went to Marrakech.  I went to the pool with our kids and their 11YO cousin, while Ben went to the other apartment.  The grown-ups had gone out to the market and had been gone a really long time, and the teenagers were starving, so Ben took them to a restaurant in the resort.  He also took our room key.  I didn’t know which restaurant, and didn’t have any way to contact him.  After about an hour in the pool, I saw my nephew heading off by himself, and I sent Aliya after him.  I assumed he was going to the bathroom and I didn’t want him to go alone.  The bathroom was very close to the pool, but I didn’t have a clear line of sight.  About 20 minutes later they hadn’t come back, and Uncle Abdullah showed up.  I somehow communicated that Aliya and Amine had gone to the bathroom and hadn’t come back, and he went off to look for them.  Ben arrived about 10 minutes later and I was starting to get frantic.  He took off looking for them too.  By the time they found their way back to the pool I started to cry.  Amine had decided to go to the apartment to go to the bathroom.  Neither of them knew the way, and oh by the way they didn’t have a key either.  Our apartment is right next to the pool so it would have been the logical choice (they didn’t know I didn’t have a key).  The bathrooms immediately adjacent to the pool would have made even more sense but sense was in short supply.  Aliya felt really bad and told me that she didn’t even know where Amine was going (language barrier) and was just doing what I told her and following him so he wouldn’t be alone.  All’s well that ends well I guess.  When they were gone Adlani said, “They probably got lost and ran into a really scary looking dude, who said, ‘Want to come to my room and eat some candy?’ and they went because Amine really likes candy, and then…”  Oy vey.

In the afternoon we got a taxi to Marrakech by way of the dromedaries in the Palmeraie.  For 300 dirhams ($33.40) the kids each got their own camel and were led on a 20-minute ride out of our sight through the palm trees.  In Marrakech, we found our way through the medina to the Bahia Palace.  We paid the admission even though the sign said it was closing in 15 minutes.  The attendant didn’t mention anything so I thought we were ok.  The palace is AMAZING.  So many beautiful doors and ceilings!  But unfortunately a security guard started shooing us out before we got our fill of the place so I just took as many photos as I could as he herded us through.

The taxi driver had told us about a place to buy the stuff that’s for sale in the souk, but at fixed prices.  We swung by Jemaa el-Fnaa because we hadn’t seen any monkeys or snakes the night before and the kids wanted to make sure they didn’t miss seeing them, then took a caleche for a short ride, ending at the store.  At that point Aliya looked like she was ready to pass out – both Aliya and Norah fell asleep in the caleche.  It was really hot (100ish), and we hadn’t eaten since breakfast.  We spent some time in the store but it was so overwhelming that we didn’t end up buying anything.  Then we grabbed a taxi back to the hotel.  The taxi driver was impressed with my Arabic.  🙂

I stayed with the kids while Ben went to Marjane to get some food, which took about 2 hours (the store is 10 minutes away).  We all chowed down and everyone is currently passed out except me.  I have a lot more photos to post but tomorrow we are headed to the mountains and we need to get an early start so I’m off to bed too.

Camel ride (actually dromedaries):

This mom was not at all happy to have me near her baby:

The baby didn’t mind me:

A few photos from Bahia Palace – they don’t do it justice:

And a few from Jemaa el-Fnaa:

Our journey to Marrakech went smoothly – the highway was in great shape and there wasn’t too much traffic.  It was amazing to see the changes as we went from the coastal city of Mohammedia, past the metropolis of Casablanca, through rich farmland, and then into the more arid landscape north of Marrakech.  We saw farms with animals, as well as fields of corn, grapes, olive trees, potatoes, and onions, but when we got farther south the only thing that was growing was a type of cactus that has a fruit called karmous en sada (aka karmous en hindi) – or prickly pear.  I have yet to taste it, but we saw A LOT of them growing beside the highway.  Apparently in addition to food and animal feed, it is now used in medicines and cosmetics (here’s a BBC article on it).  It’s nice to see a product that grows naturally in Morocco benefit the local people.

Here’s a ton of cactus that has been planted around this mountain.  Someone is obviously capitalizing on the height by renting out the antenna space too:

This is the way you usually find the cactus…used as fences:

Barren landscape:

Small village:

A bigger village:

A big river, by Moroccan standards:

We made it to Marrakech with one stop to change money, and one stop at a rest area.  The money-changing was uneventful…I could have done it without my Moroccan translator.  When I left, the guy said, “Have a good day!”  It’s really unusual to hear English spoken here so it always makes me smile when someone makes an attempt.  I think they feel the same way about my attempts at Arabic.  The security at the bank was tight…we had to be buzzed in and out, and a security guard watched our entire transaction. 

The rest areas along the highway are very modern and similar to the ones we saw in South Africa – they’re called Afriquia.  There is a gas station, a small café with outside seating, a little playground, and squat toilets.  The teenagers hemmed and hawed about using them but decided they couldn’t wait…Norah held it.  She will eventually break down and do it. 

Uncle Abdullah wearing my shirt:

Toll ticket:

Our cars at the rest area:

Cars heading home from Europe (no wonder Ben wasn’t worried about the stuff on top of our car!):

The hotel check-in was nowhere near as smooth.  I used Google Maps on my laptop in the car to get us close…at least on the right road.  This whole area is called the Palmeraie, but there are all different parts – the golf resort, the residences, a Holiday Inn, the apartment hotel (where we were headed), and some other facilities.  We asked at least 6 people for directions and kept driving everywhere to find that we were in the wrong place.  Finally we called the reception desk and they gave us more directions.  When we arrived at the gate they told us to use, the gatekeeper was praying so we waited until he was done, only to find that it wasn’t the right gate.  We finally found the reception building and thought our problems were solved.

It wasn’t very busy but it took a while for them to get to us.  The next problem was that I had booked the hotel in Morocco and didn’t have a printed receipt.  I had already confirmed that they had the reservation so I don’t know why they needed a piece of paper, but I attempted 5 times to email the confirmation to the reception desk (while I was standing at the reception desk) and they never received it.  Finally the woman gave up and told us to wait a few minutes and someone would take us to our apartments.

On the 2-minute drive to the apartment in the van we lost both of the cars that were following us, so I arrived at our apartment with 3 kids and everyone else was missing.  The van driver left us on the side of the road and drove the van back looking for them.  Finally we were all together and shown to our apartment.  The bellman didn’t seem to think it was strange that there were 10 of us standing in a 2-bedroom apartment, and when I mentioned that I had booked two 2-bedroom apartments, not 1, he was very surprised.  I showed him the confirmation on the computer, and Ben, his brother Hassan, and Aliya headed back to reception for another wait.  Eventually they were told that there were no clean apartments ready for us, and that they would call when an apartment was ready.  While picking up the random socks and underwear strewn about the apartment, I noticed that there were no towels or pillowcases.  I called Ben who was still at reception, and he was told that it costs an extra $7/person/day for towels.  WHAT???  I would rather go to Marjane and buy nice towels to take back to Mohammedia than pay $70/day for towels for 10 people.  Eventually a lady showed up with 4 towels and 4 pillow cases.  Hopefully they didn’t add them to my bill.

Aside from the wait for our 2^nd apartment and a slow-draining bathroom sink, the apartment is actually pretty nice.  It has a beautiful veranda with a table and chairs, a sitting room, a tiny kitchen, 2 bedrooms, and 2 bathrooms.  It got mixed reviews online but our options were somewhat limited because of the size of our entourage, our budget, and our swimming pool and restaurant requirements.    

I will post some hotel photos soon, but right now we’re off to Marrakech.

Today was a quiet day in preparation for the journey to Marrakech tomorrow.  It’s only about a 2 1/2-hour drive, but in Morocco that’s a journey.  Our entourage has grown to 10 people (it almost became 11)…our family of 5 plus Uncle Abdullah to drive us, our two nieces (14 and 16), one nephew (10), and my brother-in-law Hassan to drive the second car.  I made the arrangements for two 2-bedroom apartments at a resort just north of Marrakech about 48 hours ago, and we’re headed out after breakfast.  Both cars needed last-minute repairs today so I’ll have my fingers crossed for the whole trip.

This morning I did some work and Ben took Adlani and Norah to visit a friend for lunch.  Aliya laid around watching TV.  This afternoon my sister-in-law Bahija (the one who lives in Holland) took Aliya and me to the regular market in town (not the weekly souk) because I wanted to buy another couscousiere and a pan for b’stilla.  Mission accomplished.  It’s very weird being the only non-Moroccans in sight…there’s a lot of staring and men saying, “Bonjour” in case I speak French and happen to end up being their ticket out of Morocco.  Or maybe they’re just being nice.

This is the shop where I bought the couscousiere:

Sarah, I thought of you when I saw this pile of “rocks” which is another type of salt.  The vendor breaks off a piece with a hammer and it is ground at home with a mortar and pestle.  Want some, or do you want to stick to the white stuff?

We’ve been having a tough time getting Adlani to eat anything, as he is the pickiest eater on Earth.  His approved list includes hot dogs, chicken nuggets (specific ones), fries, all with ketchup of course, mac-and-cheese (only Kraft), cereal, milk, peanut butter and fluff sandwiches, cheese sandwiches (only American cheese and not grilled), pasta with butter, a specific type of granola bars, turkey sausage, scrambled eggs, apples, oranges, peaches, strawberries, Trader Joe’s meatballs, and the occasional raw carrot (but only with dip), plus just about any cookies, candy, chips, cake, or ice cream.  I’m pretty sure that is the complete list.

We brought fluff, cereal, and granola bars from home, as well as panko to make chicken nuggets.  For the first few days we were hoping that he’d get hungry and eat the delicious Moroccan food, but the only thing he would eat was fried bread called m’smn, french fries, scrambled eggs, and pastries.  I brought vitamins but he was getting almost no protein.  The hot dogs were too pink, the milk was too creamy, and the rest was not on the approved list.  Watermelon and another melon called “sweehla” are in season so they’re served after just about every meal, but he won’t eat them. 

Ben broke down a couple of days ago and took him to McDonalds.  Yes, Mohammedia now has a McDonalds.  Adlani had the sad face on again today in hopes that Ben would believe that he was on the brink of starvation and take him again, but I freaked out.  I think it’s crazy for the kid to be eating food with almost no nutritional value instead of the healthy and delicious food Ben’s sisters make for every meal.  So we went to the European market – Marjane, to look for stuff Adlani would eat.  We bought two types of hot dogs that were less pink, we finally found milk that is not too creamy (although he swears the Nesquick gave him diarrhea so I guess he’ll be sticking to white milk), pasta, and a couple of different types of nuggets (against my better judgement).  I also bought boneless chicken, which I coated with Panko and cooked as soon as I got home.  He wolfed down my homemade nuggets and I felt better.  I guess we could have skipped the processed nuggets but I didn’t know for sure he’d eat the homemade ones.  It should be a lot of fun to find stuff to feed him in Marrakech.

Marjane is just as I remembered it – like a giant Super-Walmart.  They even have a section for adult beverages, although it was closed when we were there.  Here are some photos from today’s shopping trip:

Quail eggs:

Jars of meat in fat (gag):

The liquor store is closed for the day:

I was shocked to see boxed Harira mix and people actually buying it.  This soup is a staple of Ramadan, which starts soon, but I can’t imagine serving up the boxed version after a long day of no food or water.

I was surprised to see gluten-free options:

Dough for b’stilla:

Chicken guts:

The bulk section:

You can even buy undies:

Send us some good travel vibes for tomorrow.  It’s about 100 degrees in Marrakech so I really don’t want to be sitting by the side of the road.

Today is Sunday, which is the day of the weekly souk (market) in Mohammedia.  I think at some point it was the main shopping opportunity for the week, but there are now many small stores, a daily market, and even a “European market” called Marjane, which is basically like a Super-Walmart, selling all kinds of food as well as housewares and electronics.  I think Marjane is too expensive for the average Moroccan family…I haven’t been there yet on this trip but when I go I’ll report back on who is shopping there.

We drove by the location of the souk yesterday and it was completely deserted.  Today there were hundreds of vendors and countless shoppers.  It’s like a giant flea market except with very narrow paths, lots of yelling, and unexpected animal parts, like rows of brains, displays of cows’ feet, tongues, etc.  The souk is roughly divided into an area for fruit and vegetables, meats, spices, housewares, clothes, and gold.  Mixed in there were vendors selling mint tea, roasted chick peas, fresh bread, sandwiches, hardware and car parts, and corn being grilled right on the ground beside the walkway – yikes!

It feels totally chaotic, and the street beside the souk is filled with people, donkey carts, scooters, and cars flying by.  I’m a wanderer so I had no problem meandering through the market checking out the options, but Ben was on a mission.  His sisters said that they didn’t need anything, so his mission was to get all of my picture-taking done.  I realized right away that whenever possible, it’s easiest to buy a little something and then ask if it’s ok to take a photo.  I have never been turned down for a photo when I’ve bought something.  So we bought mint, parsley, salt, candy, squash, tea, and roasted chick peas.  When I was alone and I approached someone, especially a young person, and asked in Arabic if I could take a photo, they all said “yes”.

The tough nuts to crack are the butchers.  They have really interesting displays of meat – no refrigeration…the animals are blessed and killed in the morning and sold the same day.  They sell every part of the animal.  The parts that can’t be sold are given to beggars who go stall-to-stall asking for a handout.  Since we’re never shopping for meat, we can’t use the purchase technique to get a photo.  Last time I was at the souk, I asked several butchers if I could take a photo and they all said no.  Finally one shop allowed me to take some photos, and I shocked them by whipping out a small battery-operated printer and printing their photos for them on an abandoned butcher’s table.  After that the entire souk was calling me to take their photo as word got around.

Today when we were walking through the butchers’ area I spotted a familiar face and he recognized us at the same time.  It was the butcher who let me take his photo 6 years ago.  He let me take some more photos, and I’m going to print them and bring them back next week.  I even have the original ones on my external hard drive.  It was surreal to see him again but things don’t change much here.  I’m going to print some of the other photos from today too and if I see the vendors again I will give them their photos.  It’s a good way to make friends.

The street that passes the souk:

Donkeys are used A LOT:

Mint tea…this guy was really upset that Ben gave him 20 dirhams ($2.24) because it was too much.

Giant squash:

Salt:

More photos from today on the following post.  The computer’s giving me trouble.