Happy New Year!

 

Happy travel Christmas from Julie & Roger

 Happy Christmas and we hope you all have wonderful travel adventures in 2025

These boots (sandals) are made for walking

Did I say three days and then I'll be fit?  I find that my only respite from the pain is walking (assisted by very strong painkillers).  So walking is what we do.  There is always something to see in the bustling streets but there are always oases of charm and peace.  Snuggled into a corner of the Medina is one such place - the Legation of the United States of America - a little pocket of history!

 

1777 Under Sultan Moulay Mohammed III, Morocco is the first country to recognize the fledgling republic of the United States during the American War of Independence. 

1786 The Moroccan-American Treaty of Peace and Friendship, still in force today, is signed, commencing America’s longest unbroken international relationship. 

1839 The U.S. consul reluctantly accepts a lavish gift of a live lion and lioness for President Martin van Buren from the imperial court of Sultan Abd al-Rahman.  MMM... wondered how they coped with that!

The legation is located in a beautiful 5 storey mansion that houses some fabulous artworks, photos and a cultural educational centre. Weird seeing all those American Presidents.  I especailly loved the painting of the sevant girl by James McBey

The legation has played a key educational role in providing literacy programs for women from the old city of Tangier as well as training diplomats in Moroccan language and culture.

I decided to take a break and leave Roger reading the plaques he loves so much. Just around the corner is a myriad of tiny streets where kids fly around the corners chasing balls, riding bikes and playing hide and seek. I found a small street stall selling vgetarian food and decided to chill watching women and family groups come and go shopping, chattering and enjoying the same delicious street food I was eating. 

It was the best of times it was the worst of times!

One of the things we love doing is exploring the back streets especially when the disgorged cruise ship passengers flooded through the Medina.  On one of these trips Roger ducked into a little barber shop!  What fun!  There has never been a haircut like it...it included trimming of nose & chest hair, ear cleaning and a facial. 

All with laughter and banter.  Younes was an expert.

I stood and watched. 'Sit' he said 'No I'm fine' I said, I'll stand.' 'Why?' he asked.  Eventually I said that I had hurt my back.  'Massage 'he said.  'Oh No!' I squeaked, the very thought bringing tears to my eyes.  There followed an intense discussion.  'You need cupping' he said, 'not massage. ' 

Mmm, I've had cupping before, maybe it would help with the pain.

A runner was dispatched immediately.

Now in Tanger, if you pause for a minute (as we had found out when we arrived in the Kasbah), there will be someone ready to help or direct you.  'Kasbah?' 'Medina?' they call out.  This time a scrawny man who set off at the speed of light, led us through the tiny crowded streets.  Impossible for me to do anything more than a slow walk.

Eventually I caught up with them at a tiny barbers shop.  A man emerged and looked at me shaking his head.  'No woman' he said.  'Come back in two days.' 

The runner held out his hand for his tip and then disappeared into the crowd.  We wove our way slowly back to our haven 'La Maison Blanche'. When we told Aziz of our experience he said. 'I know a great person (of course he did), she will do cupping for you. 

Next morning Aziz had organised a taxi for us.  Slowly, slowly I said, yelping out with pain every time we hit a cobblestone.  Over the next hour we drove around eventually landing up at a clinic in the middle of town somewhere.

Yes they could do it in fifteen minutes.  I spent the time walking trying to ease the pain.  I was ushered into the cubicle where the doctor said 'hop on the couch.' Hah!  As if?  

I finally managed to lie face down on the couch and he attached the cups.  Then came the point where I had to get down but I could not move.  The pain was excruciating.  What had I been thinking?

Four people lifted me off the table and somehow I stumbled back into the waiting room.  Roger's face turned white when he saw me!

We walked back to La Maison - walking was (and still is) the only way to ease the pain.

By midnight that night I could not move and my back was constantly spasming. Arghhh! Roger and Nushka somehow got me out of bed and down to Aziz's car and we were off to the hospital!

Three hours later Aziz, drove us back.  I was floating with all the drugs they had pumped into me!

Its only on the way. home that we found out it was Aziz's birthday and he had left the celebration to take me to hospital.

Seven O'clock next morning after 3hrs sleep, he and Nushka were serving us breakfast.  What amazingly kind generous people.

We cancelled Riad in Fes, postponed our train trip and booked another three nights at La Maison Blanche.  I was going to be fine to travel in 3 days time, wasn't I?

Nuska, Aziz and Roger - what would I have done without them?

Exploring Tangier

Aziz was fantastic always there to help with anything we needed.  Also very vague about what anything cost which made us really nervous.  A tagine ... sure I'll serve it up on the terrace.  The sunset and view up there is  spectacular.  Wine of course, I will bring you a bottle.  Erm a bottle of wine can cost anything from a few dollars to hundreds! We needn't have worried he was just a lovely guy who was concerned for us.

My pain continued to increase and walking was the only thing that helped.  So we explored.

There were wonderful alleyways everywhere, with murals on the wall and suprises like a baker baking cookies on an open fire which he immediately shared with us.  Kids roared screaming with joy chasing home made footballs and there were cats everywhere.  People would make little cardboard shelters for them and as people walked by they would put a little food and water in the makeshift shelters. We never saw a scrawny cat!

One of our favourite places was a little cafe which sold amazing mint tea.  Musicians would drop by and play their ouds, people would join in singing and playing drums. Reminded me of my childhood where everyone sang all the time (especially in our house).  Not so much here in Oz.  I wonder why?

Aziz recommended a fantastic restaurant Hassans which was always full.  He had long tables and you just squished in.  Met some really interesting people, such as a young German woman with her Moroccan husband (who spoke English with a German accent).  He was from the desert region and it was great to hear his perspective on Morocco and Europe.  We were really excited as it was an area we would be visiting.

Aziz also recommended a chemist who sold us some cream and pills to ease the pain in my back which continued to throb!

There were always interesting people to meet such as Punksy who brightened up the daggy electricity boxes bringing a little joy into everyone's life.  

And of course there were the markets... glorious fresh fruit and veggies.  It was one of the reasons we had hired the house so we could experiment with all the different foods.  We loved the Egg House which was crammed with eggs in the morning.  People chattered choosing which ones they will buy. Shopping in Australia is so boring, everything has a fixed price, is one of the most common things I hear from refugees

 !

We were astounded by the fish markets.  Fish of all types and descriptions - not so sure about the sea snakes but the lobster, swordfish and prawns looked delicious.  Men standing on boxes shelled prawns with the speed of light, laughing and joking as they worked!

We mostly walked in the mornings and evenings when it was cool.  It was amazing to gaze over the water to see the two continents of Africa and Europe.  Spectacular! A calm descended when the tourist groups retired to their  cruise ships but hey it was never quiet.  The Moroccans are definitely night owls not early birds.   

 

Sleeping in James Bond's bed and more!

Oh what a find! La Maison Blanche was exactly what we needed.  We sat in the salon, sipping mint tea served by the wonderful Annanuska and told Aziz our woeful story.  We asked if he had a room for five nights.  He shook his head sadly,  You can stay but sometimes you will have to change rooms, but tonight you will stay in the Moulay Ismail room for the standard price.

At that point we knew little of the history of Moulay or the room. All we wanted to do was soak in the deep bath, eat and sleep.  I had a disconcerting pain in my back which distracted me from the vivid description of the beautifully hand painted ceilings, wallpaper and silk curtains. But my ears did prick up when he said.  'This is the bed that James Bond slept in!'   

The next day we discovered it was Daniel Craig who had stayed in the room.  During our stay we tried out three rooms, all for the standard room price.  They were named after famous people, mainly writers and poets. As for Moulay Ismail we discovered it was named after Sultan Moulay Ismail IBN Sharif - the most gruesome character in the history of Morocco. He has some dubious claims to fame including the fathering of more kids than anyone else... and I always thought that was Ghengis Khan!

An interesting read here

After a glorious bath that eased my bath somewhat we chose a quirky closest restaurant to have a tagine. Glorious views, very ordinary food and a sneaky red wine served in plastic beakers.

The next morning Annanuska served us the most wonderful breakfast fresh unleavened bread, jams, thin pikelets, juice, scambled eggs and dark, dark coffee.  Yum!  As we chatted with Aziz we realised we had got her name wrong.  We had been calling her  'My name is nuska'  Ha Ha the joys of travel.

We were excited to set off exploring.  The only niggle was this pain in my back and side when I lay down or sat!

Exploring the Kasbah by foot!

After our wind and rainswept ferry trip we arrive to a sunny modern port of Algeciras.  We quickly disembark to be transported by bus to the city.  We are a bit disconcerted by all the razor wire around the port but everything seems calm.  Exiting the port we spy a row of taxis.  A guy wearing a  djellababsits nonchalantly in a deck chair directing all operations.  He assigns us to a lively cab driver who quotes the amount we have been told and we are off!

We loved the half hour trip, enjoying the sun and the change of architecture. Once we arrive at the Kasbah things start to change!

We had booked an airbnb house in the old Medina. The address was La Maison Bleue, Pl de las Kasbah, Tangier.  The first problem was that no cars were allowed in the Kasbah.  The second problem was that no one could recognise the address!

 

Of course there are always a couple of local boys eager to help and to practise their English.  Within seconds they had grabbed Roger's luggage and they were off.  I held onto my bag, reluctant to hand it over to these nimble teenagers.  Within a couple of minutes we were outside La Maison Blanche!  'No Maison Bleue' we kept saying. Everyone looked confused.  Now I had bought an ESim as i was sick of swapping over sim cards - only problem was it wouldn't work in Morrocco and so we had no phone or internet and no way of contacting our host!

That was the moment we met Aziz who came out of Maison Blanche and handed his phone to us so we could call the host but guess what - no answer.  Undeterred the boys asked to look at the picture of the  house.  Ah Ha!  They were off like a shot.  10 minutes later we were at the house.  We had to arranged to meet Malik who was to let us in.  There was no-one there.  

Over the next three hours we met copious number of people who all knew Malik and assured us that he would be there in 5 minutes.  No one showed up!

'That's it!' I said 'We're off back to La Maison Blanche' the beautiful riad we had seen.

How wonderful was the moment when Aziz opened the door and said 'Welcome.  Come drink some mint tea.'