Romping and Nguyening

Asilah is a pleasant beach town in northern Morocco where the locals flock to during their summer holiday.  Because it was only spring and the weather still required us to wear jackets, we were able to enjoy the laid-back town without the tourists.  We felt the Moroccan towns of Asilah and Chefchaouen were very much comparable, except instead of mountains Asilah had beaches.  The lovely architecture of the old quarter, the blue paint, the cooler temperatures, and the relaxed atmosphere–these were all the reasons why we loved Asilah and Chefchaouen.

Arguably the classic image of Asilah is from the ancient rampart walls, with the mighty waves of the Atlantic crashing onto the stone walls of the old town.  We were fortunate that day to witness a passing storm–the menacing clouds added a dramatic effect to the already picturesque seascape.

Wandering through the old quarter is also another enjoyable activity to do in Asilah.  No words can describe the charm of the blue and white.

Asilah also has a long, walkable breakwater, with the breakers to one side and the fishing boats and views of the town on the other side.

Naturally, there is plenty of fresh seafood in town, in restaurants and markets.  We walked past all the tourist restaurants and scored with a tiny, local joint that was busy with locals and served scrumptious fried fish and fries for only 25 DH ($2.58) per plate!

And last but not least, the street market!  Even on a random weekday, the streets were bustling with carts, donkeys, produce, fresh milk, and fish.  Of all markets we visited in Morocco, this market felt the most authentic.  It was free of tourists and touts, and I didn’t have to avoid locals yelling Japan or China at me.

Unlike most of Morocco, the cool temperatures and nonchalant atmosphere of Asilah allowed us to enjoy the town leisurely, making it the perfect final destination in Morocco before driving back to Ceuta.  We began our Moroccan trip with the laid-back Chefchaouen, and we finished our trip with relaxing Asilah, which turned out to be a fantastic way to begin and end our adventure in Morocco, one of the most fascinating and unique countries I have ever visited.

You’d think Morocco’s largest city would live up to its fame from being one of America’s greatest classic movies, but that is sadly not the case. With the exception having the beautiful name of Casablanca, there is nothing spectacular about the city, except for the famous Hassan II Mosque, the largest mosque in Morocco. If passing by when traveling along the western coast, the mosque is definitely worth the detour, but the city itself is not worth a multiple-day excursion.

Thanks to the relatively new toll road between Marrakech and Casablanca, the pleasant drive took less than 3 hours and cost about $15 with our class 2 vehicle. Navigating through town to the mosque was more cumbersome than adventuresome, but it was at least nothing compared to driving through the heart of Marrakech on a weekend evening.   To our surprise, there was plenty of parking all around the mosque, particularly along the coast. There were however touts demanding money for parking, but we ignored them and they left us alone. And finally after driving, parking, and walking, we made it to the towering Hassan II Mosque.

Pictures do no justice in describing the spiritual experience one feels from standing beneath the majestic mosque. But, I share my favorite photos below from up close and afar.

Parking with the motorhome:

Hassan II Mosque from afar:

And up close:

Unlike most mosques, non-Muslims can tour this mosque via guided tour for 120 DH ($12.37) per person. Tours are conducted 9am, 10am, 11am, 3pm, and 4pm. There is no queue or any concern about tickets; anyone can just show up at the designated time, pay the guide, and go on the 1-hour tour. We felt the price was steep and opted not to join the tour, but we definitely enjoyed our time strolling around the mosque and admiring its wonderful architecture. Overall, we were glad we made the detour to the Hassan II Mosque, but we were also glad that we left Casablanca immediately.

Classic images containing silhouettes of camels strolling across sand dunes come to mind during discussions about Morocco, and the excursion that allows for such photography comes from Merzouga, the itty bitty town not far from the Algerian border. Camel rides across the Saharan Desert with the berbers may be not just the highlight of Merzouga, but perhaps all of Morocco.

Even the twisting drive from Fes to Merzouga over the mountains through high desert towns offered fantastic views of North African country.

Before we arrived at our hotel/motorhome park of choice, we made a wrong turn and ended up getting stuck in a sand pit just outside the entrance.  With the help of several locals and two shovels, we were able to dig ourselves out after 1.5 hours beneath the midday sun.  A flat tire also added to the “fun.”

Finally after all the driving, digging, and tire-changing, we showered and settled into our 40 DH ($4.13)/night hotel-campground, Kanz Erremal Sarl.  All hotel amenities were available to campers (showers, bathrooms, beautiful lobby, wifi, pool), making our “camping” experience a pampered one.  Not far from the pool were views of the Erg Chebbi dunes, Morocco’s largest sand dunes, along with dozens of camels that could be heard regurgitating and chewing throughout the day and night.

Many tourists seem to opt for the 1 or 2-night camel ride excursion, but with our extremely limited time in Morocco, we only had time for the quick sunset or sunrise ride, a 1-hour sample of camel trekking.  Dozens of hotels lined the road leading to Merzouga, offering camel tours with competitive prices: 150 DH ($15.57) for the sunrise or sunset tour, or 400 DH ($41.51) for the 1-night tour.  After our misadventure for the day, we decided to do the sunrise tour in order to relax the rest of the afternoon.

I’ve always preferred sunrises to sunsets–fresh and calm air, refreshing silence, and fewer people.  Despite there being crowds that swarmed the sunset tours, Chris and I ended up being the only people for the sunrise ride!  We spent about 20 minutes riding camels across the dunes, parked the camels, and walked up a steeper dune to watch sunrise.  As we waited for the new day’s light to make its way in, we watched the stars gradually fade away from the velvet sky and the dunes glow a golden crimson–practically a spiritual experience.

By the time we remounted the camels, the sun was high enough to cast our shadows across the dunes, painting the perfect image to photograph.

And a quick 20 minutes later, we were back at the hotel with plenty of time to continue our road trip across Morocco.

I never imagined that our old, janky motorhome could ever possibly go fast enough to get a speeding ticket, but she did!  As we traversed over the mountains from Chefchaouen to Fes, Chris got a 300 DH ($31) fine for speeding.  Unlike American cops, the Moroccan traffic officers were laid back, friendly, and humorous.  We’re fortunate that we were able to shrug off the fine and continue our journey to Fes.

Some cities are more fascinating than they are beautiful, and Fes is exactly that.  The city as a whole is a giant, modern suburb with plenty of public transportation, students, and even big chain grocery stores.  However, most tourists don’t even see suburban Fes. They all tend to linger within or near the district and ancient medina city of Fes el Bali, the most complete medieval city of the Arab world with a population of 150,000 people.

Fes and Fes el Bali are night and day from each other, with Fes resembling a modern, clean city with plenty of car traffic, while Fes el Bali continues to be…well, medieval. Not only is the congested maze-like city dizzying and confusing, the slow-moving tourists, aggressive touts and scammers, hustling donkeys and wheeled carts, locals hurrying to the mosques, and the troublemaking children add to the stress.  Some people probably love the vibe, finding it unique and exciting; however, Fes turned out to be the only city in Morocco we couldn’t wait to get the hell out of.

Luckily there was a giant parking lot suitable for RVs just outside the blue gate, Bab Boujloud, for 50 DH/night ($5.17), perfect as a base for exploring Fes el Bali.  Locals even used the extra space as a market by day, football field by night.

Shortly past the blue gate was the crazy hectic world of the medina city.  Shops, markets, and food galore.  Markets included not just chickens and eggs, but also exotic meats such as camel heads, sheep heads, animal hooves, and more.

Every now and then in the cramped quarter, an exquisite mosque would appear from around the corner.

The mosaic Nejjarine Fountain:

Outside but nearby Fes el Bali was the Royal Palace, not open to tourists.

And Mellah, the Jewish quarter:

The worst thing about Fes el Bali? The incredibly aggressive, twisted touts and their dirty tricks.  Common tricks included telling us info we already knew such as directions, and then demanding money for it.  Sometimes two, or even three touts, child or adult, would stalk us, pretending to be helpful when they weren’t.  We quickly got creative with our responses.

When people asked me where I was from, I’d shrug my shoulders.  Disengagement and zero communication was effective.  A child told us, “Don’t go down that street. It is dangerous.” I told him that my country was more dangerous than his and everyone had guns.  He didn’t know how to respond to that, and then tried to charge us for his advice.  I thought Vietnam and Cuba were bad.  They’ve got nothing on Fes.  The scammers got so aggressive that they would argue with each other about which one of them could rip us off.

Our worst experience in all of Morocco was the simple task of viewing the tanneries of Fes, the pre-industrial sites where animal skin is cured and tanned.  Apparently the tanneries are a major tourist attraction in Fes, and albeit a free attraction, numerous shops have opened rooftop terraces with overlooks of the tanneries.  As we walked up and down the maze of streets, hoards of touts competed for our attention, telling us, “Tannery view. Over here. Very nice! Free!” When dozens of touts told us this, we knew something was fishy.  We’d be set on turning onto a street, but be completely turned off when three touts stood at the corner, pointing in the direction we needed to go in.  We walked in circles because touts stood at each corner, greedy and hungry to scam us.  No matter how much we told them we didn’t want or need their help, they didn’t care.  It was constant harassment.

Finally, I overheard a private guide tell his two patrons, “Follow me. We will see the tanneries.”  We ended up following him discretely, swatting away all the touts like flies. Two touts still followed us into the tannery and demanded money on our way out.  The guide scolded the touts to leave us alone, and even then, they continued to bicker over us.

We only lingered in the tannery for a few minutes, not because of the stench and rotting animal hide, but because of the stares from the touts burning into our backs.  They were so delusional that they actually felt entitled to a tip.  All of them.  It’s one thing in Vietnam or Cuba to be ripped off when bargaining over an item of interest, but in Fes, we were constantly chased by outstretched hands, not even asking, but demanding money for “helping” us.

Even then, we consider ourselves to have thick skin.  I’ve visited countries poorer than Morocco (Myanmar, Bangladesh, Laos, Vietnam, Bolivia) and their touts are angels compared to Moroccan touts.  Shit, even my own heritage is from Vietnam, and I was appalled by what we experienced in Fes. Because independent travel in Fes meant constant harassment, we knew it wasn’t the place for us.  Leaving Fes was a joyful escape.