First Impressions of Morocco

As we pulled our rental car to the side of the road, to look down at the stunning Rif Valley below, I couldn’t help but realize that I really had had no idea what Morocco had in store for us. 

When I dreamt of Morocco, I had visions of vast and arid desert landscapes, sand viciously being blown across the dunes, camels wandering to and fro and nomadic people moving from town to town in search of a hospitable place. 

Of course, there was also the markets and small streets of the cities that occupied my mind, but I really had no idea of what we were getting ourselves into.  And I’m thrilled to say that everything I have encountered so far, is unlike anything I ever could have imagined. 

This is why we travel.  We travel to quiet the voices in our heads that are telling us the way things are, before we even get a chance to experience them for ourselves.  More and more, I realize, the things that we have conjured up in our minds, although sometimes have partial truths, are usually far flung visions that are acquired from, often times, a single photograph. 

We form opinions on entire civilizations of people that are based on small and insignificant facts that we glean along the way, somehow sewing them together into a vast tapestry, that most times, couldn’t be farther from the truth.

My first foray into a muslim country (with the exception of Bali, which itself is mostly Hindu and Buddhist) has brought with it layers and layers of incredulousness.  I’m not sure if my tiredness is from jet lag, or if it is from the almost incomprehensible amount of stimulus that we have encountered since arriving here only 5 days ago.  I feel like I have already had the adventure of a lifetime, and if I had to leave Morocco today, I would be satisfied with what I have seen. 

But, this is but a teeny tiny corner of this incredible country, and there is so much more to see.  It is exciting, exhilarating, and almost overwhelming to think of what more there is to experience. 

Our journey began on January 17th in the often overlooked Tangier.  We chose this city to fly into because it had a direct flight from London, and it sits in close proximity to Chefchaouen, otherwise known as The Blue City, of which we planned to spend a week exploring. 

John, one of our travel partners in this leg of our journey, and the reason that we came in the first place, spent 3 months living in Chefchaouen (chef-chow-an) back in 2017/18, and he was keen to return to visit his friends that he had acquired while doing so. 

Our initial plan was to take a bus up to Chefchaouen which sits at about 630 metres up in the Rif Mountains, the first chain of the Atlas Mountains that extend along the northern edge of Africa.  However, one in our party felt better if we had our own transportation to get us to where we wanted to go, so we rented a car instead.  I have to say, I’m glad that we did, and it is nice to have the flexibility to do and see as we please. Rental cars are quite affordable here, and we now have this one for about a month, at a cost of just $30/day.  Splitting this with 2 others means that this is a good option to get us around, and gives us the freedom to explore places that are a little off the beaten track.

We arrived in Chefchaouen on the 19th, late in the day.  John’s friend Said (pronounced say-d) greeted us upon our arrival, and I was immediately drawn to his warmth and calm demeanour.  He welcomed us to his city with open arms, and insisted that if we needed ANYTHING at all, to please let him know.  Being tired, cold and depleted from jet lag, Chris and I took no time to crawl into our bed and drift off to sleep, while the others went out to explore.

At 6:00am we jumped out of bed, eager to set out to the nearest coffee shop to try some local flavours.  However, it quickly became obvious that these people are not like the Central Americans and people that live in the tropics who get going at 5 in the morning, and of which we have become so accustomed to in the last couple years.  Not a soul was in sight as we meandered along the simply adorable little alleyways that snake across the mountain side of this idyllic town.  In fact, it was pretty much dark until 8:00, and we barely saw a soul stir through the streets until then.  How civilized, we thought.

At 6:45am, however, we did experience the first of five ‘calls to prayer’ in each day.  As we walked the deserted little blue streets, I couldn’t help but record a video of the stunning sounds that we were now hearing, blaring full blast out of a nearby mosque.  Although we clearly have no idea of what they are saying, one repeated sequence does stand out to us which includes the words “allah akhbar”, a plea to hail their god that has been revered for centuries.

But, the most magical moment thus far, was the very next morning when we found ourselves again up in time for the morning call to prayer. Having a rooftop terrace at our accommodation gave us a beautiful perspective to look out over Chefchaouen during this coveted event and I realized that it isn’t just one prayer that blares out across the landscape. Each mosque has it’s own version, and once up and above it all, you can hear the prayers being chanted from many different directions, and they each have their own twist. I also learned that these are each done live by a priest, they aren’t simply recordings that are played out over and over again.

Chefchaouen is situated high up on the side of a mountain, and overlooks the Rif Valley below.  The city seems to be stacked on top of itself, layer upon layer of buildings built up the valley walls, all linked by the most incredible little alleyways one could ever imagine.  Most of our joy over the last few days has been found in exploring the nooks and crannies, and discovering new and exciting things around so many different corners.  One could spend months here trying to see it all, and most wouldn’t succeed. 

We took the time one day to drive our rental car high up into the mountains to explore outside of the city.  It was then that we discovered vast mountain ranges with snow capped peaks, green cultivated hillsides and peaceful villages scattered as far as the eye can see. 

Breathtaking vista after breathtaking vista presented itself to us, as we wound through the skinny mountain roads, and it was in these moments that I realized, that I had no idea what we were in for, but one thing was for certain, Morocco is an incredibly diverse land.  From ocean to mountains, beaches to desert, one could never imagine the immensity of what it has to offer. 

Less than one week into our trip, I simply can not predict what lay ahead for us innocent travellers.  I have now realized that there is no point in trying to imagine it all, because for the most part, it is simply beyond comprehension. 

I’d like to share a passage from Mark Twain’s book Innocents Abroad about his initial reaction to Morocco, specifically Tangier.  I laughed out loud when I read it because quite simply, it is oh so brilliant, and oh so true! 

“We wanted something thoroughly and uncompromisingly foreign—foreign from top to bottom—foreign from center to circumference—foreign inside and outside and all around—nothing anywhere about it to dilute its foreignness—nothing to remind us of any other people or any other land under the sun. And lo! In Tangier we have found it. Here is not the slightest thing that ever we have seen save in pictures—and we always mistrusted the pictures before. We cannot anymore. The pictures used to seem exaggerations—they seemed too weird and fanciful for reality. But behold, they were not wild enough—they were not fanciful enough—they have not told half the story. Tangier is a foreign land if ever there was one, and the true spirit of it can never be found in any book save The Arabian Nights.”