MOROCCO, Essaouira :: How Do You Say “deja vu” in Japanese?

A funny thing happened on the way into our first coastal town since Rabat.

We ran into our new friend Yuji (click right PHOTO). Again.

The day before in Marrakesh, we ran into his co-traveller, Yoko, in our hotel.

48 hours before, 100s of kilometers away in Merzouga, the four of us wrapped up two giddy, camel-full days together (along with the Welsh gals). We made no plans to meet-up; at best, we told Yuji if he comes to the U.S. to motorcycle all of Route 66, to dial us up in Chicago first.

On both a occasions, they saw me (or my hair), as I’m spending more time with my head “down” than I should — so the red “Hendrix” ‘do doth bring big rewards sometimes. The luck of it is we get to spend more quality hours together: In Essaouira, we walked into the all-blue-boat fishing area and checked out an impromptu ship-building tour; we shared a couple meals on the cheap; and Megan and Yuji shared “do-I-remember-my-Japanese-letters” time on the beach.

Yoko was equally as wonderful a surprise our last night in Marrakesh — and reminds you that language isn’t always the first connector between people. Sometimes it’s just spirit, attitude, and sheer coincidence.

Back to the 9-11 on this locale: Essaouria is a friendly, beautiful beach town that would rival any in Maine, Oregon, or Washington. Finally, fresh air away from the lung-clogging diesel! Put it on “the Morocco must-see list” and go! (One idea: Rent a car, pack in your friends, and drive from Tangier across from Spain, to Mirleft, the beach town we’re going to from here. There’s RVs galore here, but they’re gas-guzzlers.)

Most importantly,

• bring a co-pilot.
• And remember where you’re from:

MOROCCO, Essaouira :: Jimi Hendrix Slept Here

FACT: In scenic Essaouira, we’re sleeping securely above these daddies:

FACT ABOUT ESSAOURIA: Jimi Hendrix came here in 1969. Dug it.

FACT: On our 12-day trek thus far, we’ve been told Seattle-native Jimi had a house here; wrote “Castle Made of Sand” here; and in more than one city, I’ve been asked if I’m Jimi Hendrix re-incarnate.

Jimi wrote “Castles” here: FALSE. Nope. Two years earlier. Ditto the house, according to this Jimi website. And as I told a crowd of 50+ in Marakesh when given a guitar, “J n’est pas Jimi Hendrix.” (Big laughs.) That went over better than when I said after dancing, “I am no Madonna.” (crickets chirping.) Guess she hasn’t penetrated the North African market.

LESSON: Can’t trust every tale you hear, even in Morocco.  No, especially in Morocco.

MOROCCO, From Merzouga to Marrakesh in Technicolor

JAN 27 UPDATED PHOTOS from Merzouga to Marrakesh here. Above snapshot by Megan is just a sand-filled taste of the former. Everything before the Sahara, Megan chronicled thoroughly here.

Arrived in Marrakesh Jan 26, will leave the 28th, and it’s something out of a dream here. Snakes – Cobras, beaucoup of them. Monkeys – most like abused when out of sight, but cute to look at. Lentils – soups for under 85 cents. Another 23 random people yelling “France?” or “England?” asking us if we need a hotel walking to the heart of the Medina. And something else…

A quality I can’t quite describe. We had a lost item in our “Grand Taxi” transport here. Went back and found it. Refound a friend from the desert, Yoko. Yuji is also here, her traveling partner. Last night, Saturday, Megan and I found ourselves corralled into the middle of a guitarist-singer performance circle. Imagine 60 men in the perimeter, a crazed artist in the center. And Megan in a headdress, laughing. I’m dancing.

It’s – a cliche, but is nonetheless – magic here.

UPDATE: Magic, yes, but only after you find where the #!*$ is your hotel.

Seriously, a million kudos to Megan, without whom, I wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t be able to find 1/2 the things – esp. as our Lonely Planet Morocco is in Spanish – and simply wouldn’t be as completely happy in general. In ways, we’re both sorry Marrakesh was only a 2-night stay. But as we’re moving via stuffy autobus & Mercedes (“grand taxi”) towards Dakar, Senegal, and French lessons by Feb 11 – and we need them – there’s no rest for the wicked. Feel free to recheck the map (below) from my first post, as we’re pretty much following it to a T (okay, Berlin > Barcelona > Madrid > Morocco is pretty easy, actually; Mauritania > Cameroon may have more turns.):

MOROCCO, Mezouga (The Sahara) :: HOLY SANDSTORM, Batman*, We Found Paradise

* With props to the soon-to-be-his-last-role as The Joker, aka, Heath Ledger, RIP.

SAND-DATE, 1.23-25.08. We’re here in Pardise, and staying two days.  

COMING: Tales of avoiding hostile “faux” guides for, oh, about 2 hours in the town 35 kilos out of the dunes, getting there, loving it, drumming traditional Moroccon/Berber music, dancing, fires under moonlight on the Erg Chebbi dunes, and MORE.

FOR NOW:

MOROCCO, Azrou :: Last Market, I Promise

** More Coming **

MOROCCO, Fes :: No Guide, Didn’t Get Lost

Took train from Meknes to Fes Monday. Fes, the “cultural capital” of Morocco, and the spot to catch snake charmers I hear, was intense, but fun. (Note: still no snake charmers thus far.) Finally running into the 10-people-who-want-to-give-you-a-tour-of-XYZ. I try to ignore, Megan is more polite. Saying “non, merci” to all, except in Moulay Idriss, near Meknes was the only place we had a guide (who we figured out was a guide after 25 mins, but was worth it).

Managed not to get lost in the cavern of the centuries old Medina market. They have useful signs. Only caught 2 anti-American rants from kids. Rather cute, and on the whole 10x as many people say, “You from America. America is nice. We love America.” Or, “You from Chicago? Bang-bang, shoot em up … We love Michael Jordan, etc. ” I’m honest, so I usually don’t answer when people ask (99 percent of the time it is to sell you something), or I say “Etats-Unis,” (U.S. of A. in French).  I have yet to use the “I’m Canadian” card. Really, really unnecessary outside of, say, Saudi Arabia or Islamabad.

Saw lovely views above the city on cliffs at night, including the Bus depot below. Hiked down. Checked departure times. Figured out, we should head south soon. Left Tues a.m.

** More Photos Later **

MOROCCO, Midelt :: Deep Into Berber Country

** What is a Berber? Find Out Next Time on the Price is Right **

MOROCCO, Meknes :: Photos Worth 1000 Years (Finally!)

If you’re impatient for photos — it’s been way too long, my apologies – go here: Flickr Shuey Photos.

Ok, so here’s the deal. Life is beyond words. We’re doing REALLY well, and we’re 100 percent safe & on target. We’re really past Fes, past our 5th crazed market in Azrou today, and deep in the Atlas Mountains. Sahara ahead. I have enough footage (10 gigs+ in camera video & photos) to fill my flickr 10x over.

I have to come into the Youtube age, too.

And still, I’ve only just begun. In Africa. With Megan. In learning languages. Figuring out how to get a vegetarian meal, no problemo. The new toilet system here (more crouching than my norm). AND in getting out proper posts.

So today I’m going to start with Meknes, a lovely town where we stayed 2 days over the past weekend.  It was a longer stay so we could stretch our wings out to see Moulay Idriss, a sweet, hilly & historic town, and Volubillis, a top-notch, can’t-miss ancient ruin. Complete with 700-year-old mosaics for the rain to eventually erode. Or arches for dumb Americans to climb on and erode. Nature vs. Numbheads, indeed.

CLICK HERE FOR FLICKR OF ALL RECENT PICTURES (about 1/1000 of the total visual suckage of this hemisphere by the ‘ol Canon, but a start. Alas, internet time & speed is not always super-duper.)

Keep Reading for Details on Morocco and other parts of the journey, and COME BACK as I will be filling in areas that look like this with two astersisks **:

** More Stuff to Come Here **

MOROCCO, Rabat :: Megan is Circling Me on Updates

I hope this logic of these non-sequeteur placeholder posts works. I don’t think I can go back later and make everything “chronological” on this journey to the current day (Jan 22).  I’m seeing over my monitor, and seeing Megan has tons of photos up. As I usually say in my posts: CHECK MEGAN’s site for the other, more coherent side (long story short, we were going to do one together, but didn’t figure out a name, I started mine early,  etc.)  Holy Rabat, I could use her content.

Speaking of Rabat, it’s absolutely stunning, gorgeous, energetic, and did I say stunning? The Beaches!

** More latte, er, later … my type skills are degenerating, and my spelling of Morroco, is often off, it’s Morocco, one r, for you Middle Schoolers, and “Non-Sequeteur”? Is it spelled correctly? I’m realizing, Megan has the true language gene, I do not. **

WAIT! I do have photos of Rabat on this memory Stick. Of the ancient 14th century grounds of Chellah. (Jimmy in Chicago, fact-check that foe me.  There have been too many ruins since, and it’s late. And I have spelled Chellah after a Washington town in the photos, Chehallis.)

Ok, so after getting the hostel, walking up King Hassan II Ave (or is it Mohommad the V, the last two kings have a street in every town) you visit this ancient gateway to Chehallis. this is from the side after paying 10 dirham ($1.30, which is our upper limit here, apparently.) This is real blue, for you in the Northwest:

This is part of Chellah, that’s a gazillion years old (ok, probably 700):

Storks are nesting everywhere on these ancient grounds. S’pose it’s a rebirth of new life metaphor, or something. I apparently scared this one away. (Breaking the WWF/Greenpeace code, for sure.) Image this 3-feet wide:

MOROCCO, Casablanca :: First Step in Africa

It feels amazingly like the last step in Spain, only, better? Definitely exciting.

Not much to write home about in Casablanca except for the most friggin’ GIGANTIC mosque you’ll ever see. Taller than any building in Portland.

** More Friggin’ Huge Pictures TBD **