Often, however, the smaller, more rural areas of Morocco are ignored by tourists, and that is a big mistake. With so many cheap flights coming into Agadir, there’s really no excuse to miss out on some of the absolutely wonderful smaller cities within Morocco.

Agadir

This larger city won’t win any architectural awards. In the 1960s, Agadir was hit by a massive earthquake which destroyed much of the city. Agadir was rebuilt, but the buildings lack the beauty and North African vibe of other cities within this north African country.

However, having an international airport and a cruise ship port, and obviously lots of beaches, does give Agadir some bonus points.

If your only reason for coming to Morocco is to escape the dreary UK/European winter, then you’ll find lots of all-inclusive resorts to help you out. And, in fact, many Brits and Germans come to Agadir for just this reason. Because of this, you’ll find lots of people who speak English which can make things easier on you if you don’t speak French.

Essaouira

One of my favorite cities in Morocco is just a few hours away from Agadir. This is a great beach town with a very interesting medina. The touts aren’t nearly as aggressive as in cities like Fes and Marrakech.

If you like seafood, it’s sold fresh down by the marina daily. How fresh? It was plucked from the sea that day.

There are some great local places outside the medina. If you want a unique experience, go by the Sufi mosque on Friday afternoons. The chanting is mesmerizing and goes on for hours.

There are lots of short-term rentals if you’re interested in having an affordable beach getaway.

Be aware that taxis are not allowed to drive in the medina. If you want help with your luggage in the medina, you’ll find plenty of enterprising young gentlemen willing to carry your stuff in their carts for a small fee. Just make sure to agree on a price before you head on your way.

You can rent lounge chairs for a few dollars a day on the beach.

Be prepared to see a lot of cats, especially kittens, as you walk around. Many of the restaurants within the medina have a complement of a few mother cats with litters. They add some extra entertainment to the meal experience.

Guelmim

If you want to experience the rural life of Morocco, which I highly recommend, this is the town for you. There are several markets selling fresh produce, and the butchers all have great meats (including camel, which is quite tasty).

On Saturdays you’ll be able to visit the big market, also known as the camel market. The Berbers that bring their camels to sell also have some beautiful jewelry and antiques you may want to bring home. Be prepared to haggle. It’s part of their culture, and they really appreciate a good haggle.

The camel market is also a great place to pick up household furnishings, clothes, and food.

In town, you will find several places for breakfast. Make sure to order kulshi (cool-she) which means basically “everything.” You’ll be served Moroccan mint tea, bread, argan oil (which tastes almost like almond butter), and some delicious eggs, all of which is eaten with the right hand (you can hold food with your left hand, but it shouldn’t be brought to your mouth).

When going around town, you’ll probably notice that food tends to be consolidated. For instance, one section of the road will be fish places while another will all be selling rotisserie chicken.

Guelmim is the gateway to the Sahara desert, and it’s easy to find guides who will take you camping in the desert, which is a fun experience. If you want a real treat, arrange a stay at one of the eco lodges on the nearby oasis Tighmert. We lived there for 2 months, and it’s an experience that is worth the effort.

Morocco is a place that can easily steal your heart. The people are absolutely lovely, and it’s generally a safe place to visit. While French is the dominant language for tourists, it’s still easy to get along with English (and sometimes Spanish). It’s an experience you aren’t likely to forget easily.

Have you been to Morocco? What was your favorite area?

While other areas of Morocco are amazing and definitely unique experiences, I loved Guelmim the most because it was extremely authentic. It isn’t made for tourists, and it hasn’t really bought into all of its touristic possibilities. It’s just everyday Morocco.

It was here that I fell in love with Morocco and its people, where I had my first taste of camel, and where I also learned about the different colors of camels and their purposes. White camels are considered holy, and every group of camels will always have at least one white camel in it because they can apparently smell water from over 30 km away.  Brown camels are used for work, and the “black” ones (dark brown) are used for their meat.

Guelmim is the last good-sized town before you enter the Sahara desert, so it’s a good place for starting Sahara treks. Because they haven’t bought the tourism bullet, there really isn’t a lot to do here, though. You don’t come to Guelmim to be mesmerized by snake charmers, for its fabulous shopping, and definitely not for the cuisine.

You come to Guelmim to see what real rural Moroccan life is like, to slow down, and to absorb it all.

Getting to Guelmim is fairly straight forward. Buses and petit taxis leave regularly from Agadir, although if you go to the suburb town of Inezgane you’ll find transportation that runs more frequently. There are plenty of companies, but I had the best experience with Supratours (which leaves from the main bus terminal in Agadir). It’s about a 4-hour journey, which includes a 30-minute rest stop for food and bathroom use. Yep, no bathrooms on the bus.

There are several hotels in Guelmim, and they are all pretty much similar in services, quality, etc. We didn’t stay in any of the super low-budget ones, so I can’t really comment about any of those.

To get around the town you can flag down any red petit taxi or the white and blue pick-up truck taxis. They all charge 6 MAD to go anywhere in town. However, on Saturday is the camel souk, and the price will double for you to go there, which brings the price to less than $1.50 USD so. . .

If you want to check out the oasis, you’ll need to take either the grand taxi (5 MAD) that leaves from the Ali Baba souk, or catch a shared taxi (7 MAD). If you want to take the latter, just ask a taxi driver to take you to the petit taxi for Tighmert (usually pronounced teeg-mart). The red taxis and pickups can’t take you to the oasis..

For the return trip, just stand on the side of the road and flag down any grand or petit taxi that comes by. Some personal vehicles will also stop and offer you a ride for free. It may sound a bit scary, but it’s pretty safe.

The camel souk is kind of interesting. Some of the camel sellers come from near Mauritania to sell here. Often you’ll find an English speaker who will give you lots of information and insights on the culture, as well as try to sell you souvenirs and jewelry. He isn’t a major hard sell, though. I think the whole livestock area was the most interesting part of the souk. The rest of it was really just a bigger version of the in-town souk.

If you aren’t feeling too adventurous with restaurants, check out Cafe Plage Blanche next to the 1st gas station in town. They have a huge sign, so it’s hard to miss. They have pretty decent food and a bit more variety than most of the food places in town.

There are tons of ATMs all over town.

For groceries, I would recommend the supermarket next to the bank across from the other gas station in town. Just look for the symbol of a big shopping cart. There is another one across the street by the post office (Supermarché Rajan), but this one has better quality and a bit more selection.

You won’t find produce in the supermarkets, though. You’ll find that from either a street vendor or in the nearby souk. If you’re taking a taxi on a Saturday and don’t want the big souk, just tell them the Ali Baba souk. That’s the smaller, everyday one.

You won’t find many English speakers in Guelmim. A few more speak Spanish. Most people will speak French, although you’ll run into some who only speak Moroccan Arabic and Berber. Still, it’s pretty easy to function, get around, and to purchase things. At the hotels, they’ll all speak French, and a few will speak a little English.

By the post office are the restaurants that mostly serve fish. If you head away from the town entrance, past the roundabout, you’ll find the restaurants serving roasted chicken.

Guelmim is really a place you visit purely for the authentic cultural experience, so don’t expect a lot in the way of entertainment and tourist sights. Guelmim isn’t trying to impress anyone. Which is what I loved about it.

Money

The local currency is called the dirham.  Within Morocco it is abbreviated as dh or Dh; however, the currency exchange code is MAD.  Because the euro is at a nice 1:10 conversion with the dirham (50 dh = 5 euros), it is widely accepted. There are plenty of ATMs, and most don’t charge a fee (although your bank may charge you), even in small cities.  Almost all of the ATMs will ask you to remove your card before it dispenses your money, which helps prevent you from accidentally leaving your card behind.  In addition, almost every single ATM we used had an option for English instructions, so if you don’t speak French it isn’t a big deal.

Language

The official languages are Moroccan Arabic and Berber; however, most Moroccans also speak French, and all official documents (for tourism purposes) are in both Arabic and French.  In the far north of the country, and in a few areas of the south, many people will also speak Spanish. In the larger cities, it’s easier to find people who speak English, but you’ll have a much more enjoyable time if you learn at least some basics in French.

Communication and Internet

SIM cards are extremely cheap (20 MAD) and so are buying minutes.

For making international calls, you want to buy a telecarte. You can make calls for super cheap at any pay phone or orange public phone using this card. I believe they also work via landlines (but not cell phones I’m told).

WiFi is not very common outside of big cities, and even then it can be touch. For between 200 and 250 MAD, you can buy a USB 3G modem at any phone shop or Maroc Telecom office (I wouldn’t bother with the other companies, go with this one for Internet and cell phone). It usually comes with 1 month’s service included in the price. After that it’s 50 MAD a week for unlimited 3G service. You can buy as much time as you want at one time. Make sure to request recharge express to buy more Internet time. You’ll need the phone number of the SIM in order to recharge the service.  The phone number is located on the plastic card that came with the modem, so make sure you save that. If you’ve lost it, you have to go into a Maroc Telecom office to retrieve the card’s phone number.

Travel

Getting around Morocco is quite easy.  In the northern region, there is a train system that is fairly decent.  To go south, there are many different bus companies. Supratours and CTM are the largest, and Supratours is owned by the rail company so it is an easy way to schedule travel.  We’ve traveled with 3 different bus companies.  I’d have to say Supratours is my favorite of the three.  None of them, however, have bathrooms on board.  So keep that in mind when planning bus travel.

You can also travel by air within Morocco, but it’s quite expensive (one way for one person from Tangier to Agadir was significantly more expensive than our one-way ticket from Agadir to France for two people).

For shorter distances (3-4 hours), there are also often shared taxis.  By using these you will get to your destination faster, but you will sacrifice comfort.  From Guelmim to Agadir, the shared taxi is 70 MAD per person ($8.34 USD). However, there will be 4 people in the back seat and 2 (plus the driver) in the front seat.  If you are bigger than child-sized, it may be an uncomfortable ride. You can solve this by paying for more spaces.  However, a bus ride with one of the smaller companies is only 50 MAD.  The only other advantage the shared taxis have over buses is that they go throughout the day (as soon as they have 6 spots paid for) whereas the bus may only have 2-3 scheduled trips.

Taxis within cities usually have set fares, and no one uses a meter.  Make sure to check with a local to find out what the taxi should charge you.  In Guelmim, petit taxis are 6 MAD for anywhere in town (though the fare doubles on Saturday for the camel souk), but in Agadir the average fare is around 20 MAD for most distances, but more expensive from the tourist zone and for travel to/from the big bus station and airport.

Generally speaking, red petit taxis are cheaper than beige ones for at least 4 of the cities we’ve been to in Morocco.

Always carry toilet paper with you. Most bathrooms, including in restaurants, do not supply toilet paper.

Food

Prepare to be underwhelmed. Apparently, Moroccans use more spices at home than in restaurants, so the food you’ll be eating will generally be fairly bland and not very diverse.  It is a challenge to find any type of ethnic food outside of the large cities such as Tangier.

Morocco is a Muslim nation, so pork is tough to find.  Tourist restaurants will be more likely to have ham.  We found bacon only in 1 grocery store (and never in any restaurant or hotel).  Likewise, only tourist restaurants will serve alcohol, and liquor stores can be tough to find.

It is not uncommon to eat with your hands.  Just try not to bring your left hand to your mouth.  It isn’t a major deal, since you’re a foreigner, though.  Usually the left hand only holds bread.  When eating something like eggs, you take a piece of bread and use that to scoop up your eggs.

In the tourist restaurants, when you ask for tea it will already have sugar added. However, in more local eateries you will probably be given chunks of sugar with 2 glasses.  Add the sugar to the pot.  Then pour tea into the glass, and pour that back into the pot.  Repeat this process several times to mix the sugar (and mint if was added later).  Locals hold the pot high when pouring to add air into the brew which enhances the flavor.  If you aren’t feeling brave, don’t worry about “playing local” when pouring your tea.  It is fun, though, once you get the hang of it.

Culture

Moroccans are extremely friendly and hospitable. They are some of the nicest people I’ve ever met.  They have no concept of personal space, so buses can be quite crowded as you all squish in.  When speaking with you, they will often touch your shoulder or arm.

They are rarely ever in a rush and will sit contentedly for hours without asking why the bus hasn’t left or arrived.  Their impatience mostly only shows up when they drive, and they love honking that horn!

Clothes tend to be quite modest. Many women choose to cover themselves completely except for their face.  Women traveling in Morocco should dress modestly.  The general attitude toward women is quite respectful; however, I have heard from several seasoned female travelers that Fes was absolutely horrible when it comes to derogatory speech, disrespect, and downright sexual harassment (including groping).

Women generally prefer to sit only with other women, but it doesn’t break a cultural moré if a man sits next to a woman.  Generally, the gender-mixing taboos don’t exist for children.  Often on a crowded bus, a woman would pull Tigger onto her lap so he didn’t have to stand, for instance.

The call to prayer is sung several times a day, beginning at around 5:45 AM.  When selecting lodging, you may want to visually check for the closest minaret, unless you’re an early morning person.  In Essaouira, we were next to a mosque, and it was incredibly loud during the call.

Touts are ubiquitous in the larger cities. They can be quite. . . persistent.  Usually responding with la shukran will stop them from bugging you, although women will probably be hassled more.  If that doesn’t stop them, just ignore them and keep walking. Once again, they are more aggressive in Fes, and may even grab onto you.

Lodging

There are multiple options from low budget to large, beautiful 5-star hotels charging more than a thousand dollars a night.  The eco-lodges tend to offer a more down-to-earth type of lodging with a more cultural experience.  Riads are large homes that have been turned into inns, basically.

It is also fairly easy to arrange treks into the desert, especially in the south, where you can experience a lifestyle more typical of the nomadic Berbers.

If you would like to experience the nontouristy, more rural side of Moroccan life, I would highly recommend staying in the Tighmert oasis (where we lived for 2 months).  It is located just outside Gulemim, which is called the Gateway to the Sahara.  We became friends with a French woman who owns an eco-lodge on the oasis, and I would highly recommend her place.

If you are looking for the all-inclusive route, we stayed in one in Agadir that was quite enjoyable.  It is seaside, has multingual staff, had great facilities (including an indoor salt water pool), and the food was fairly good.  We booked it through Orbitz for about $90 a night for 2 people near Christmastime.

Staying in a city’s medina (the old, walled part of the city) will give you an interesting experience, even though you’ll be in a more touristy area.  As always, staying in an apartment or flat is even better since you’ll get more of a feel for what life is like and a better insight into the culture of a place.

Beaches

Morocco has a long coastline.  Two of the more popular beach locations are Agadir and Essaouira.  If you want a more rural experience, I would recommend Sidi Ifni.  We thoroughly enjoyed Essaouria, though, and it’s a place I would’ve been happy to stay at longer.

Agadir’s beaches have a very strong smell from the ocean, and I didn’t find them to be as relaxing as Essaouira. Plus, there are more touts that troll the beach areas in Agadir.

Top places to visit

This is obviously only my opinion, but for me the best places to visit in Morocco are: Marrakech (2-3 days), Chefchaouen, Essaouira, and Guelmim/Tighmert (2-3 days).

Do you have any Morocco travel tips you’d like to share?

Morocco has given me some unique perspectives.

I never voiced this to anyone, but I was a bit nervous coming here.  Not just because of the language limitations.  While I have friends and connections who are Muslim, I’ve never been to a mostly Muslim area before.  Yes, in the States all you really get exposed to is the uglier side of the fanatic, extreme side of Islam, but that didn’t bother me. I knew that stuff wasn’t representative of the whole Muslim culture.  What bothered me was how I would be received as an American. Particularly in light of some of the things going on in the Middle East.

I came prepared to tell people I was from Canada. Not because of any shame of being from the States, but because I wanted to be given a chance.  The first time I told someone we were from the States, they were quite surprised. “We don’t get many Americans here! So tell me, what do you think of this Romney character.”

What?

While our train departed from the station, I engaged in a fascinating political discussion with an older Moroccan male. He felt Romney was “all about money” and gave me reasons why he believed that.  He brought up other things and proved he was actually more informed about things in my native country than many of my fellow citizens.  He hoped for an Obama win, so I’m sure he was happy when he heard the news a couple of weeks later.

While most Moroccans are of Berber origin, the culture is quite Arabic.  I knew the Middle Eastern culture was very hospitable, but I was still surprised by the overall warmth and friendliness of the people, even when they weren’t trying to sell me something.

Most Moroccans live a very humble life.  In rural areas, the average person earns about $428 per month.  That means that purchasing 1 kg of camel is 3% of their monthly wage.

When we eat breakfast at our favorite joint we always order kulshi (meaning, literally, “all”).  We’ll split 3 eggs, a basket of breads, a dish of argon butter (kind of like almond butter), a pot of tea, and 2 large mugs of fresh-squeezed orange juice.  We pay 37 MAD, or $4.40, for this breakfast.  That is almost 1/3 of a person’s average daily wage, and we are getting charged the locals price.  Our 3G Internet service costs just $24 a month per person. A kilo of produce is around 15 MAD ($1.78).

In the States, our current extremely modest income places our 2-person household well below the poverty line. Here we spend about the same as what a Moroccan earns each month, but we also aren’t paying for electricity or rent, and it’s for 1 adult and 1 child, whereas as most Moroccan families we’ve seen have at least 5 people.  That doesn’t include the good chance that they are also supporting the husband’s mother and father, and it is highly likely that neither of them are bringing in an income either.

I was recently quite touched when a man who had been walking from table to table begging for a cup of tea saw Tigger.  He came over and handed him a dirham (about 8.5 cents), smiled, and walked away.  Later while taking the shared taxi home, a lady took out a small, plastic toy elephant from her purse and handed it to my son to play with.  He tried to give it back to her as we were leaving the cab, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

In addition to being challenged by life here, I’ve been humbled by the generosity of people much poorer than ourselves.  I have to fight against politely refusing gifts such as when our nearly toothless vegetable vendor hands us 2 oranges for free.  To refuse a gift would offer a painful insult.  To counter with money or another gift could very well be another form of insult.

Today was my final grocery trip into town. I found myself getting emotional as I let people know we were leaving, especially when Ibrahim, our favorite fruit vendor, asked for my address so we could keep in touch. Tigger had slept in and decided he’d rather not join me for the journey.  Every person we knew asked after him.

This is the part of slow travel that is the most magical and the most painful.  We’ve gotten to know people, build small relationships, and in a way become part of the community.  And in 3 days we leave for the next destination.  I definitely am not the same man who almost didn’t cross the border nearly three months ago.  This country has left an indelible mark on me.

We haven’t left yet, but my heart already aches for Morocco, most especially for Guelmim and our little oasis of Tighmert.

Basically, Moroccan food sucks.

Sure, a nice tajine or couscous sounds delightful. As does my favorite dish, b’stella. I love quickly breaking the powdered sugar-coated flaky crust with my fingers and watching the steam rise from the delicious mixture of ground meat, cinnamon and egg. It’s hard to avoid burning your tongue and fingertips because you can’t wait for it to cool down before digging in.

When I go to buy our chameau, I look for the displayed dismembered camel leg. A small leg means the meat came from a calf so it’s better for chops.  A larger leg indicates it’s an older camel, so it’s best for kafta.  I then indicate which one I want, the butcher slices it off the section hanging from a metal hook, and voila, we’re on our way. If it’s kafta, he grinds it for me while I stand there.

Chicken is so fresh that it’s still running around a small pen when you order it.  Come back a few minutes later, and the plucked chicken is waiting for you in a bag.

Veggies and fruit are bought from vendors in either a kiosk or a compilation of carts.  My favorite vendor is one of the few who doesn’t make me irritated when I hear him calling out Bonjour, mon ami!  He can get away with it because he gives me good stuff and doesn’t try to rob me.

At our favorite breakfast place, they squeeze your juice after you order it.

Fresh food does always taste better, but there’s only so much you can do.  The local cuisine, at least in the areas we’ve been, has been less than exciting.  Okay, frankly, it’s been boring.  How boring?  The other day I was thinking how lovely a batch of Chicken McNuggets would taste.

Yes, it really is that bad.

And bland.

Now, to be fair I love spicy food.  I’m happiest when I have to wipe sweat off my brow and my nose is running (from the spices).  In the States, when I eat Thai food and order it super spicy, they usually stand somewhere they can watch. I think they’re afraid my head will explode. When I eat Mexican, I tell them to cook it for a Mexican not a gringo.  Even then I’m usually adding more salsa to it.

French and Italian food is flavorful enough that I still love it even if it doesn’t make me sweat or surprise me the next morning.

In Essaouira, I sat amused as an African woman got so frustrated with the cook that she stepped behind the counter and seasoned her own food.  I found that to be a little rude, but now I think she’s just been here for a while.  The same flavors day in and day out are just not enough.  At first I was thinking I was just being too much of a food snob, but when Tigger started complaining the food was too bland I knew it was serious.

Definitely come to Morocco. The experience is unlike any other place you’re likely to visit. Just be prepared to either go somewhere touristy for a cuisine break or plan a food heaven location for when you leave.

You’ll thank me later.

Dear Maroc,

I hope it’s okay to call you that. I know it’s only been 2 months, but I feel like we’ve shared enough to be on a more personal basis.

May I just start by saying how much you confuse and amaze me?  I’m pretty adept at picking up on cultures and things, and well, every time I think I’ve got you nailed down you laugh a little and surprise me.  Good for you!

One thing has really struck me about you, though. I used to think that islanders owned the title for most laid back people, but I gotta hand it to you, Maroc: Your people kick ass at it.  Case in point when our bus tried to break down. We got out for the scheduled 25-minute bus stop, even though that was supposed to happen back in Tiznit.  I was curious, though, when 40 minutes later we were still there.  I was on a schedule you know. I had someone waiting for me at the house who I needed to relieve, so after an hour I was getting. . . shall we say slightly perturbed.

But were your countrymen? Oh no. They sat there drinking tea and chatting as if this had all been planned. Finally after 1-1/2 hours I found the driver and asked when we were leaving. Then and only then was it announced that the bus had broken down and we were waiting for a part.

What? Why didn’t you tell the whole bus? And more over, why didn’t some of these other people ask before me? Because they aren’t slightly more tightly wound Westerners I’m guessing.  “We’ll just sit here drinking tea until they tell us it’s time to go. Whenver that is.”  I’m getting there. You’re teaching me.

I already had a pretty open mind, but you’ve opened it further. We humans tend to see things as they appear rather than as they are. I’m so grateful for the people who have been willing to open up and share with me so I can see things from a different angle.

I love hearing the multi-phrase greetings that seem to take 5 minutes between people.  When someone gets into a taxi, they don’t just greet one person they know, they greet the entire taxi.  And everyone joins in the string of words that is meant to check in with people as well as give glory to Allah.  You and I aren’t on the same wavelength on that last bit, but I still don’t hesitate to say hamdullah or insh’allah at the appropriate times.

You have absolutely no sense of personal space between the same genders.  This is. . . interesting for us Westerners because, you see, we believe we are all surrounded by an invisible bubble. Even though you can’t see it, you still avoid crossing the unseen boundaries. If I sit near someone on a bus, I should bring my leg in a bit if we accidentally touch. Not in Morocco, though! Oh, no sir. There’s always more room to add someone else, no? Even if part of my ample posterior is almost on top of my neighbor’s leg.

And when I get Tigger to move onto my lap to create more space for someone, your people are quite clear that there is plenty of room for us all to be squished together. Oh no, don’t inconvenience yourself by putting the kid on your lap, monsieur! And why make him stand just so a woman can sit in the only remaining seat?  He’s a child, therefore it doesn’t matter that he’s male. He can just sit right down on her lap. No problem, papa, don’t you mind. We’re all good friends here.

When two people chat, even if they’re strangers, they have to be touching so that the other person knows they’re being heard and are important. At least that’s what I get out of it. I find it reassuring even though it still surprises me when someone I don’t know puts their hand on my shoulder or arm while speaking to me.

You are so kind to ignore my rather crap French, too.  When it takes a few minutes, several rounds of circumlocution, pantomiming, sign language, etc., to get something across, and the light finally turns on for me you join me in a hearty laugh about it.

You aren’t pressured for me to hurry up and get out of the damn line so the next person can be served. In fact, a couple of times someone has left the line to go retrieve someone they knew spoke a few more words in English or Spanish so that by combining all 4 spoken languages we finally get to where we need to go. You guys never lose patience with me.

Moroccans are so kind to my child. Even the poulterer with whom I rarely share more than the customary greeting and a request for juj kilo, asks about my cute little tag-along when he isn’t by my side.  He has, to me, one of the most awful jobs in the world, yet every time I see him, his brown vinyl apron covered with feathers and. . . accoutrements from his activities, he has a huge grin for me.

Your country and your people are so alive.

Maroc, you humble me. You truly do.  And, I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but, well, I’m in love with you.

It’s easy enough to get to this almost sleepy town from Marrakech.  It’s a few hours by bus which includes a 30-minute rest stop with bathrooms (none on the bus) and where you can buy hot food.

If you’ve been to one of the other popular areas, you probably think you have the whole medina navigation thing mastered.  Well, just when you think you have Morocco figured out, it laughs in your face and says “Oh really?” We got through Marrakech’s labyrinth without a hitch, yet it took a few times of getting lost in Essaouira’s medina to take my pride down a notch or two.

Where Marrakech’s medina and square are colorful, Essaouira’s is much blander.  There are clear areas where the tourists tend to gather and where the locals do their shopping.  Street food is abundant.  The people watching opportunities are absolutely wonderful.  This town shuts down fairly early, and the medina will calm down much earlier than in the big cities up north.

I love the sheer joy on his face

Finding lodging is pretty easy.  There are usually people at the bus stop who will offer to rent you a flat.  Many of these are in the medina.  Having spent a lot of time in the medina, I don’t recommend living there.  Especially if you’ve already had experience dealing with the chaos of Morocco.  We rented an apartment through AirBNB, and it was perfect! We were in a neighborhood of solid locals, which I absolutely loved.  The one down side was being closer to the mosque speakers so you got a little early wakeup call before 6 AM every day as they issued the call to prayer.  It was easy enough to fall back asleep, though.

We were here in the off season which meant the beaches were amazingly uncrowded.  Most of the people were either locals or Moroccan tourists.  The water is chilly, but that didn’t stop Tigger.  If you come to the beach with kids, make sure to bring dry clothes because when they finally exit the surf, lips blue from the cold, they’ll want to change into something dry quickly.  There are plenty of chaise loungers for rent.  Feel free to haggle the price down.  They initially wanted to charge me 40 MAD.  Since it was low season, I was able to get them to give me the more reasonable price of 15 MAD.  Whatever you pay, you get the chair for the whole day.

Essaouira has so much charm in it that it’s easy to see yourself staying longer.  Just make sure to give yourself plenty of time to explore the medina’s nooks and crannies.  And you’ll want to bring your camera.  It is one incredibly photogenic area.

Tips:

• If you’re staying in the medina, they don’t allow taxis to go inside.  You may want to go ahead and pay the guys with carts 10-20 MAD to carry your luggage for you.  If going elsewhere, a taxi should only charge you 6 MAD.
• Want a filling meal? Eat at one of the chicken places.  You can get a whole chicken, Moroccan salad (no lettuce but a combination of veggies that is quite tasty), French fries, olives, bread, and drinks for 90 MAD total for 2 people.  More people add a very small amount to the price.
• When eating where mostly locals go, expect to eat with your hands, especially for things like kebabs, chicken, and fried fish.  There will be a small sink in the dining area for you to wash your hands before and after your meal (although usually there’s no soap).  Use the squares of paper as towels.  You can use your left hand to hold bread and things, but try to make sure that only your right hand brings food to your mouth.  If you end up using your left, no worries since you’re a tourist.
• Some toilets are squat and others are the more traditional Western throne style.  Rarely, though, will you find toilet paper, so it’s wise to keep some on you.
• The freshest fish is sold near the skala.  Look and listen for the flocks of birds near the water’s edge by the medina.
• In Morocco, haggling is part of the culture.  I know it’s hard to do sometimes when you consider how low many of the prices already are, but when you just accept the first price. you’re not playing the game.  Go ahead and haggle, even if your counter offer is just a bit below their offer.  It’s how things are done unless you’re in a store.
• If you tend to get car sick or get motion sickness, you may want to take something for the bus trip.  It’s generally not an issue, but there are a couple of stretches that might bother you if you’re sensitive.

Living in Morocco has given me plenty of opportunities for culture clash.

For starters, you won’t see a lot of adult men in shorts here.  Actually, I haven’t seen any.  Even among the youth it seems to be a bit rare.  Of course, it is late fall and chilly.  Unless it’s a huge cultural offense, though, I wear shorts when it’s warm.  It’s obvious by my skin color I’m not a local, so I automatically get more wiggle room.  And I do make Tigger wear a shirt in public.  That would be pushing the acceptability envelope a little too far.  If we were going to a religious site or something, I would, naturally, dress appropriately.  But when it isn’t a really big issue, comfort will always win for me.

Even though it rubs against my equality grains, I accept that women are generally not spoken to directly.  It varies a bit, and I just go with the flow.  I try to avoid too much eye contact when speaking with a woman, even though the chaplain side of me says it’s important to maintain eye contact.  When getting on the bus, if there is 1 seat open next to a man and another seat open next to a woman, I have Tigger sit next to the woman since that’s more culturally appropriate.

I constantly mute my desire to go up to an almost fully covered woman and ask, “How do you stand it?”

Being someone from the States in rural, conservative Morocco, has created quite a bit of culture clash for me.  It always helps to hear the other side of things, though.  I recently met an expat French woman.  She wears a hijab covering her hair, but otherwise dresses as a Western woman.  She  does not hesitate to touch a Western man’s arm when chatting and is very vivacious.

She spent much of her younger life traveling the world and trying on different religions before she adopted Islam and became a Muslim.  She found it to be “the only religion that truly respected me as a woman.”  What?  This boggled my mind.  To me, women here are often treated as subservient chattel.  Walking behind their man, only their eyes peeking out from the colorful fabric hiding their bodies.  Dressed from head to toe while at the beach as their nearly naked children frolic in the waves.

Maktub by Tatiana Nasser

Our Swedish host told me she has seen similar respect here.  In Spain, men at stores and shops will barely give her the time of day.  Here, however, the men are attentive when she is describing what she needs.  Where Spanish men barely even listen to her statements about what she wants, the Moroccan men are more diligent.  This surprised me, and I chalked it up to the men here knowing damn well that she’s going to be spending money.

Then I was having a chat with our handyman.  He’s lived in this oasis his whole life.  While I do pride myself in being open-minded, I think it’s natural to have some . . . feelings during some discussions regarding cultural issues.  My blood was boiling, however. as I listened to him explain the requirement that a woman must submit to a medical exam to be certified as a virgin (if she’s never been married) before she can marry her betrothed.  He shared with me how he has heard of women who have surgeries to restore their virginity so they can get married.  “Isn’t that cheating?” he asked me.

I bit my tongue hard.  Not my country. Not my religion. Not my culture. Who am I to judge? I reminded myself.

He went deeper by discussing dating practices here.  They don’t exist.  Men and women do not date.  You see someone you like, you approach the family about marriage.  She can reject the suitor, though, which gave me some relief.  It’s a bit expensive to marry here as well, since you have to give the family “gifts” and buy the woman a lot of new things.  Plus the big dinner.  It basically costs around $1000 USD for a couple to get married.  That’s a lot of money for someone who probably earns the equivalent of just over $2 a day.

“You don’t date? Do you even talk? I mean, what if she’s a complete idiot, or you have absolutely nothing in common?”  I asked.

He shrugged.  “It can happen.”

“And you don’t have divorce here, do you?”

“Oh yes!”

I was shocked! “Really? I wonder what the rate is.”  He didn’t know, so I googled it.  In 2010 it had “plunged” to 46%. Still doing better than the US, though.

If an unmarried woman is seen in public with a man holding hands or kissing a man (even married couples don’t show public affection), she is pretty much ruined and will be lucky to ever find a man who will marry her.  But for the man, of course, there’s no similar damning smudge on his reputation.

Then he entered the potentially dangerous waters of the issue of gays.  Interestingly, the idea of two men being together didn’t seem to bother him, but he was filled with revulsion as he shared with me that he has heard of, gasp, women only wanting to be other women.  His face contorted with disgust as he explained how unnatural this was.

“Well, I don’t know,” I began carefully.  “They have documented it in over 400 species of animals.  So, if it’s happening in nature, I don’t think we can call it ‘unnatural.’  I just think sometimes when in the womb, chemical changes get mixed up, connections don’t get made or broken that should and so on.”

He hadn’t been expecting that.  “It happens with animals?” he asked.  I went on to describe similar observations of ram-to-ram and ewe-to-ewe mating patterns in sheep, an animal that is prevalent in these parts.  He admitted he had heard of that.  I had a glimmer of hope, even though that could very well be ego talking since this topic is quite near to me.

Then he brought up transgendered people.  I again brought up connections, disconnections, hormones, chemicals, etc., and how miraculous it is, when you really think about, that most of us are born with 10 fingers and toes.  “Perhaps some connections don’t break like they should, or some aren’t made.  I know some of these people, though, and I’ve learned enough to know that we just don’t completely understand it.”

From here he moved into how women are treated in Europe.  “Don’t you think they’re treated horribly?”

I forcefully had to tighten my jaw muscles to keep it from falling open.  Yeah, women’s equality has come a long way, but there’s still room for improvement.  I didn’t think, though, that was what he was alluding to.  “The way they use women’s bodies to sell things.  It’s disgusting.  It’s completely disrespectful to women.”

I opened my mouth to say something.  Then I closed it.  There definitely was truth to his statement.  Women are objectified in Western culture.  We don’t celebrate the intelligence of women.  We give very little recognition to their abilities.  We have one woman get a position that typically has been filled by a man, and suddenly we’re singing and dancing that women are finally equal. And really the list goes on and on.

Recently, I shared an article on Facebook about how the appearance of some art showing male nudity had caused a great controversy.  This in a museum filled for decades with carvings and paintings of the bare female form.  For some odd reason, once a penis is shown we’ve suddenly moved into a different, prohibited realm. Why is male anatomy more sacred than the female?

I had to agree with him.  And I remembered the lovely French woman’s comments about why she had converted to the Muslim faith.  I also remembered that, at least in Morocco, a woman has the option of how she dresses.  I have seen younger women dressed more as Westerners, and I’ve seen their exact opposite, with a woman even working hard to keep her hands covered by the fabric enclosing her.  Even in print ads, women are dressed more like Western women.

One of the beautiful things about travel is how, if we leave ourselves open to it, we get to see the other side of an issue.  When we don’t go somewhere to change it or the people but allow ourselves to be open to be changed by the experience itself, well, we could find no better experience or university.

When we let travel change us, we open the door to changing the world.

When we leave Morocco in January, I can definitely say I’ll be leaving, once again, a changed man.

What do you think?

Either the rooster has stopped crowing, or I’ve just tuned him out, because he no longer wakes me up in the morning.  I’m really thinking he’s just become lazy, because he’s right outside my bedroom window.  Nevertheless, when I wake up, blessedly without an alarm clock, the first “chore” is to let the chickens and rabbits out of their houses.  We have 3 adult chickens and 2 tweens.  They get fed, and then I generally go from there to the garden which is watered on a daily basis.

Our irrigation water comes from cisterns.  We have one on the roof, and the hoses and drip irrigation system are connected to that.  When the cisterns get close to being used up, a call is made, and water is moved through the oasis via canals to our in-ground tanks.  Every couple of days or so, I have to pump (electric) water from the cistern into the rooftop tank to water the plants.  The rest of our water, which is potable, comes from the town’s supply and comes from indoor plumbing (yay!).

After the garden is watered, then it’s time for breakfast.  After we eat, we take the dog on a walk around the oasis, and then he gets his meal.  If it isn’t watering day for the rest of the plants, then I’m basically free until the afternoon call to prayer, which is when I give the chickens and rabbits their second meal of the day.  After that we take the dog on his second walk.

We refer to the call to prayer at around 5:45 PM as the “call for chickens.”  That’s when it’s time to put the chickens and bunnies in their houses.

Rough day, huh?

Every two days, I have to water the rest of the plants on the property.  Most of that is handled by the aforementioned irrigation system.  Since we don’t have a lot of water pressure, I have to manage which valves get turned on at the same time.  The whole process takes about a couple of hours.  While the drip system runs, I use the hose or pots to water the plants that aren’t on the system, including the ones in the inner courtyard of our home.

So what do I do in the large number of hours in between?  This is why I’m thankful I was already trained for “slow living.”  There is the occasional minor cleaning, and there are always dishes to do (no dishwashing machine).  Laundry is done about once a week.  We have a washer, and the clothes are line dried.

Other than that, I can often be found writing, either doing articles, working on a book, or working on the blog.  Tigger and I have all of our meals together, which is nice.  We have a bit of a challenge with 3G signal strength sometimes, so he often is sitting in the outer courtyard where the signal is stronger, and I’m usually in the inner courtyard where it’s more comfy.  He comes in for regular hugs and kisses, and I watch him jump and hop around the yard every so often as he gets his extra energy out.

Sometimes I change places where I’m sitting just for a change of scenery.  We do the same with meals.  Sometimes we eat in the kitchen, other times we eat in the “outdoor lounge” area.  We’ve yet to use the room I call “the formal dining and living room.”

What’s the house like?

We have lots of photos of the house and property on our Facebook page.  It’s really a gorgeous home with an interesting layout.  Each room of the house opens onto the inner courtyard.  We have a kitchen and sitting area in one room, then there’s my bedroom, Tigger has his own bedroom (both bedrooms have their own full bathroom, although I have a tub), and then there is a room with a living room and nice dining area with a TV (for DVDs) and a stereo.

There are a couple of sitting areas in the courtyard, including a large one that also has an outdoor mattress so you can sleep al fresco.  It’s almost like glamping.  You have such an amazing view of the sky, and since there are no city lights, the night sky is absolutely full of stars.

What I call the outer courtyard is the rest of the property.  Here we have a lovely garden with spinach, garlic, coriander, sweet potatoes, and the local plant that the chickens and rabbits are fed.  There are numerous trees and plants around the yard, so it’s quite beautiful and peaceful.  The walls are ringed by large date palms.

We are definitely enjoying our little slice of heaven, but I’m sure we’ll be ready for some bigger city amenities when it’s time to leave in mid January.

What do you think? Could you handle living in such a remote location?

When we were preparing to leave Mexico, some people asked me why we were so eager to leave.  We did love it there and had met some wonderful people.  But I hungered to be challenged.  Some might wonder if being a single parent and traveling with your child as full-time nomads isn’t enough of a challenge.  Well, I suppose so, but Tigger and I have adapted so well that really, well, it’s become easy.  Way too easy.

We spent our first 1-1/2 years of travel in Latin America.  I already spoke Spanish fluently before embarking on our new lifestyle, so I didn’t have the challenge of language.  I had already lived in Mexico and Ecuador previously.  We lived in Honduras for 8 months where my life consisted mostly of dive, eat, dive, eat, sleep, repeat.  A glorious life for sure, but not a real challenge.  Except for the occasional student having a panic attack underwater.

Interestingly, my greatest initial challenge was learning how to slow down.  Before we began a life of travel, I worked full time in a very emotionally demanding job, ran and cycled regularly, volunteered, had an active social life, etc.  So busy was my normal.  All of a sudden I found myself on a Caribbean beach with only maybe 3 hours of work to do a day.  It drove me crazy even though I enjoyed it.  Once I was finally accustomed to it, Utila helped slow me down a bit more.

Everything had become just so darn easy really.  So, I was excited to go to Europe which would be a jumping off point for more adventures.

And then we arrived in Morocco.  Hello challenges!

First we had the challenge of getting into Morocco.  Then came the language issues.  I have a very basic grasp of French.  In the north you can get by with a mix of French, English, and my almost nonexistent Arabic.  That was a good breaking-in for life in the south.

In southern Morocco, very few people speak any English.  We’ve left behind the tourism-driven areas of Marrakech and Essaouira for “small town, real world Morocco.”  There are many people here who understand even less French than me.  The French phrase I now speak with the highest degree of fluidity is: “I don’t understand.”

The food is even more plain than up north.  Tagines and couscous can only take you so far.  Which, ultimately is fine since we live on an oasis about 10 km outside of town.  We’ve found camel to be quite tasty, and as a kefta (ground meat) it’s really tender and easy to work with.  Goat not so much.  And because they’re Muslim, there is no pork.  Edam is the most glamorous cheese we’ve been able to find.

I guess we can add remote to that list, eh?  Yes, we live on an oasis.  As in a green area in the middle of desert.  It’s gorgeous here, and this time of year means you have comfortably warm days with chilly evenings.  A perfect combination in my mind.

There are a few small stores nearby where you can get toilet paper, maybe bread, maybe eggs, some yogurt, some candy, and stuff like that.  Our refrigerator is dorm room-sized (and runs off a small propane tank).  So that means we make twice weekly trips into “the big city.”

Getting to the city is always an adventure.  There are petit taxis that come by that will cram up to 6 people in them (not counting the driver).  They only leave town when they have 6 riders, so you are never quite sure when they will be coming by. There are also grand taxis (mini buses) which will stuff in as many people as can they possibly can.  They run on a more scheduled basis, but since they make frequent stops, you’re never quite sure when they’ll be driving by. Basically, once you get to the road, you can expect to wait anywhere from 5 minutes to 45.  A trip into town for groceries is usually a half day proposition.

Why so long? Well, aside from the waiting to get into town, and a bit of a wait to get back, you can’t just go to one spot to buy all your groceries.  The “super market” has things like pastas, beans, detergent, frozen meat.  It’s either a short taxi ride or a long walk.

For anything fresh, you have to go to vendors.  The butcher sells camel, goat, and supposedly beef.  Seafood is right next to them, so that part is easy.  For chicken, you have go to the chicken butcher.  Your future meal is still running around and clucking when you select it, and after a few minutes you’re handed a bag containing your freshly killed and plucked chicken.

We go to our favored vendors for vegetables but usually have to go to another one for fruit.  There is another guy I buy my olives from.  Usually while they’re preparing my chicken purchase, I make another quick stop for bread at one of the pull carts.  My favorite vendor gives me a brief Arabic lesson each time, which I really enjoy.  The look on his face as I use words from our last visit is always worth it.  If I decide to buy some alcohol, I have to go up an alley to a nondescript store to grab that.

Then, if you didn’t get it at the supermarket near the center of town, you have to stop by the dairy store to get milk.  We have rabbits and chickens which eat a local plant as their main food source, so we have to stop by the guy who sells that bundled up as well. That’s usually our last stop before we head to the petit taxi stop (much easier to take these if you have a bunch of bags you’re carrying).

I make my living via the Internet.  There is no cable, no dialup, no WiFi.  We use 3G USB modems.  Depending where you sit on the property, you may have fairly fast speeds, or you’ll be thinking “If only we could get dial-up speeds. . . ”  Naturally, the areas with the best speeds are nowhere near an outlet, so your time is limited there.

If we hadn’t been trained for slow living before coming here, you’d find me up in the date palms giggling insanely and talking to myself in no time.

Being white-skinned and without a car (most of the few expats here have cars), makes us somewhat of a local oddity.  We are gawked at quite regularly.  When I smile and greet them with a salem or bonjour, they always seem a bit relieved as if they had been previously wondering if I was considering them as an ingredient in my next soup.  Tigger is also quite amusing for the locals.  On a bus, Moroccan children sit down and are quiet.  Tigger amuses himself with a Lego man he’s brought in his pocket or by using me as a climbing structure, and he’s still learning what exactly his “inside voice” is.

Are you exhausted yet?

With all these challenges, one might be thinking “I bet they can’t wait to leave there!”

You’d be wrong.  Yes, I’m being challenged, and I love it.  I wouldn’t change a thing.

What place have you visited that challenged you the most?