 Our first taste of Morocco was actually at the ferry port. Absolute carnage reigned, with feelings being expressed through enthusiastic use of car horns. There didn't seem to need to be a reason - just full commitment. After waiting for almost three hours in customs in Tangier Med, watching people unload and reload what appeared to be most of a DFS sale, we were released into Africa. | After having an incredible few weeks in Galicia and Portugal, where it felt like the conditions were created purely for our leisure, we drove south - to Morocco. The goal was gentle - to explore a little, catch up on work, and enjoy a culture neither of us had experienced before. There were some potential kayaking spots, but everyone who knows the area had previously advised that in February the conditions were not always favourable for paddling, often being too dry. Of course, when we showed up, the seven-year drought the country had experienced came to an end. Sadly we managed to contract some kind of stomach flu for most of the trip, which meant our aspirations to run what honestly looked like a mini-Indus on what was previously described as a "gentle class 3-4 read and run" were cut short. We will be back. |
| Morocco felt like a wild, dusty mix of chaotic farm life, and a reach towards luxury Western ideals. It was bizarre - we experienced some incredible interactions with locals in the mountains, with beautiful hospitality. We also had a couple of quite unpleasant situations, particularly with what seemed like civilians self-appointing themselves to police the rivers. Our interactions with the local gendarmerie were nothing but courteous, however, and we were able to both paddle the Ahansel river, which was incredible. Another altercation we had with local law enforcement was annoyingly entirely our own fault. We visited a tourist attraction, an incredible 20+ metre waterfall falling into a beautiful gorge. We had heard from other paddlers that the gorge was good to go, and we spent quite some time walking in with our ReactRs through a solid press of tourists. We were then promptly turned around by the local military, because you are required to have a permit to paddle the river. As we struggled up the sheer path with our boats in 25 degrees, waiting for endless queues of tourists to finish pottering past us on the narrow path, a guide told me we needed "Lamborghini donkeys". I completely agreed. After a couple of frustrating days in the mountains, we decided to head to the coast, to Safi for some internet, to wash our clothes and generally recover a bit. It was one of the most beautiful camping spots we’ve had, high on the cliffs above endless barrel waves. The sun finally came out and everything began to feel a lot healthier. We had an epic session on the first afternoon, getting kicked around by decent sized but gentle surf. Afterwards, on this particular shower-seeking mission, we drove into the city of Safi. I thought perhaps a gym would offer the best solution, and upon finding one, the boss - a giant man in his late twenties - actually drove us in his car to a Hamam spa five minutes away. I met him again the next day while collecting our laundry (which was beautifully pressed and packaged in an incredible amount of plastic). He insisted on buying us a pizza, in exchange for me FaceTiming his wife to tell her about Scotland. Morocco was clearly going through a period of intense change while we visited, namely due to the fact that the floods ending the seven year drought were wiping out a huge amount of infrastructure and putting incredible pressure on the local people. Ramadan also fell during this time, which must have added to the energy-burden that families must have been experiencing. It felt strange to walk around looking for a "fun" experience while there was clearly so much going wrong for people who actually lived there. Despite that, the hospitality and courtesy of places like this are preserved by the people, despite hardship. I hope that I can carry that courtesy through hard times too. |   |
