The High Atlas (June 30-July 2, 2011)

Following our visit to Todra Gorge, we spent three days in Marrakesh (more on that in a later post) before heading north by bus to the village of Imlil in the High Atlas Mountains. At an elevation of nearly 6,000 feet, it was a refreshing break from the stifling 110 degree heat of Marrakesh, and with fewer tourists the village was quieter and calmer.

We had hoped to camp in Imlil, but the "camping" option listed in our guidebook turned out to be "pitching a tent on the roof of a hotel." Instead, the owner let us sleep in an unused and unfurnished banquet hall on the top floor (the Moroccan rugs on the floor were more comfortable than roof tiles). There we met Guillaume, an enthusiastic young traveler from France, who talked us into hiking with him part of the way to Toubkal, the highest peak in North Africa (about 13,600 ft), the next day.

First, however, we set out on an afternoon hike to a nearby pass for a great overlook of the mountains and nearby villages. Along the way, we watched a group of boys play soccer in the road (making for a very narrow and steeply inclined pitch), were passed by countless Berber lorries (vans/buses) packed with locals (including those riding on the roof) en route to their distant villages, and had to decline the sales pitch of a moped-mounted fake geode salesmen. At the pass, the views were fantastic and we had the place to ourselves until a group of young boys showed up and became smitten with Nora and repeatedly shouted “I love you!”

The next morning, we hiked south out of town toward Toubkal with Guillaume. The trail follows the Mizane River until the tiny village of Sidi Chamarouch, at which point it climbs steeply, leaving the river behind. Along the way, we met another trekker, Maartin from Holland, who joined us on our ascent.

The views from the trail – down to the Mizane, up to the peaks – were spectacular and the air was crisp and fresh, a stunning contrast to anything we had yet to encounter in this desert country. We hiked with Guillaume and Maartin nearly as far as the Toubkal refuge, where they would spend the night before climbing the final 1,000 meters to the Toubkal summit the following morning. After completing so much of the hike, we were a little sad not to be continuing on to the peak, but still thought that the portion of the trail that we did was well worth it.

Click the photo below for our High Atlas photo album.

The Todra Gorge: Rock the Kasbah (June 25-June 27, 2011)

On our way from the the Erg Chebbi dunes to Marrakesh we stopped for two days in Tinerhir, a medium-sized town surrounded by barren, rocky landscapes that aren’t that different from something you might find in parts of Arizona. The attraction here was the Todra Gorge and the Todra palmery – a palm-fringed stretch of desert oasis along the Todra River. The town itself was a pleasant place with friendly people and a lively open-air market, though we found we couldn't walk too far without someone trying to offer us a hotel, transportation, or a guide to the Gorge.

The lush palmeries line the Todra River as you head to the Gorge. The contrast between the intense green vegetation of these oases and the barren mountainous landscape that surrounds them is stunning. There are also a number of small villages with amazing “ksour” and “kasbahs”, fortified mud and clay structures. We found that the condition of these structures varied widely, with some abandoned and eroding back into the river, and some still occupied by families.

The Todra Gorge, which at its best is only about 10 meters wide between 300-meter tall sheer cliff walls, is spectacular. We visited on a Sunday and found that the Gorge is a popular hangout spot for Moroccans who picnicked, played music, and swam throughout the day. We walked through the Gorge and then followed a hiking trail up to a pass that gave us a nice view back toward the Todra River. The hike back was made more dramatic by dark clouds and thunder that threatened rain as we descended (luckily the rain never really developed beyond a few sprinkles). On the hike we encountered a goat herder and his goats, which filled the hillside with their bleats, and a Berber woman in traditional woolen clothes and cheap, broken plastic shoes that didn't fit who was making the climb with her donkey. We both felt a little silly, by comparison, in our hiking shoes and quick-dry fabrics.

After descending the trail and walking back out of the Gorge and into the palmeries, we decided to walk the 15 km back into town and enjoy the beautiful views along the way; however, after about 10 km, we were a little hot and a little thirsty, and gave in to the temptation to hitchhike a ride from a local back to town. Despite the language barrier, we shared a nice ride and our driver even pulled over at a scenic overlook to let us soak in the view.

Click the photo below for our Tinerhir and Todra Gorge photo album.

Merzouga and the Erg Chebbi Dunes (June 23-June 25, 2011)

After a long bus ride from Meknes and an overnight stay in Er Rachidia, we reached the small town of Merzouga (about 300 miles southeast of Meknes near the Algerian border). The area around Merzouga is considered the "Pre-Saharan" desert (although it felt very real Saharan to us), and the town is the gateway to the Erg Chebbi sand dunes, which is the main attraction of the area.

Because of the extreme heat (it hovered around 105-110 degrees during midday) our time in Merzouga was short and centered around an overnight camel trek into the dunes. With four other guests and two Berber guides (the indigenous people of Northern Africa) we headed toward the dunes at dusk, rode for about an hour and a half to camp, and spent the evening under the stars eating tajines, drinking mint tea (which Moroccans call "Berber Whiskey"), and talking with our Portuguese, French, and Moroccan companions. It was a very musical group and we got to listen to our guides play Gnaoua music, one of the Portuguese guests sing, and the Moroccan guest play classical guitar. In the morning, we rose early, watched the sun rise, rode back to Merzouga, and then were on our way to the next locale.

Click the photo below for our Erg Chebbi album.

Meknes, Volubilis, and Moulay Idriss (June 19-June 22, 2011)

Meknes, about 60 kilometers west of Fes, was meant only to be a stopover, allowing us to explore the Roman ruins at Volubilis (more on that later), before continuing south. We found, however, that our hotel was peaceful and the city was much more relaxed than the hustle-and-bustle of Fes, so we spent a full day exploring its Medina.

On our first night in town, we encountered an enthusiastic pro-Morocco crowd parading down the street singing, dancing, playing music and waving Moroccan flags. We followed them to the city’s main square (Place El Hadim), where a large concert was going on. The next day, we explored the Meknes medina. Much smaller than Fes, the Medina markets were easier to navigate, and because the city sees far fewer tourists, we didn’t experience the hustle we had in Fes and goods seemed to be less expensive. We even found a salt souk, where there was a makeshift lean-to with some large salt rocks laying under it that were being broken down into progressively smaller pieces until they were hand ground into a fine powdered salt that was being sold by several different dealers.

We spent the next day exploring the Roman ruins at Volubilis and the small town of Moulay Idriss. Volubilis was one of the Roman Empire’s farthest outposts, although Roman rule lasted only about 200 years. A major olive oil producing region, Volubilis and the surrounding area also apparently supplied Rome with the majority of its exotic animals (namely lions, used in Roman games) and during Rome’s short reign, lions, elephants, and bears were all wiped out from the region.

The site is known for the well preserved mosaics in many of the homes, and some of these were magnificent. The opulence of many of the town’s inhabitants is clear in the ruins of solariums, extravagant baths, and colonnaded entry ways. Despite the site’s proximity to Fes, there were few other tourists so we had it largely to ourselves as we explored. We both thought the ruins, particularly the mosaics, were spectacular and that perhaps closer to Rome, this site would be teaming with tourists.

Moulay Idriss is one of the holiest sites in Morocco, founded by a great-grandson of Mohammad, and is a site of pilgrimage for Moroccan Muslims. As non-Muslims we aren’t allowed to enter any of the mosques or religious buildings in the country, but we still thought this was a nice place for a short walk. The town is perched on two steep hills towering over a river valley and the surrounding plains. From the top of the town the views into the valley and back toward Volubilis were lovely. Few non-Muslim tourists seem to visit here, so the people, particularly the children, were friendly and interested in what we were doing. A group of young girls took to Patrick and tried to practice their French on him yelling “bonjour!” and asking him his name.

Click the photo below for our Meknes, Volubilis, and Moulay Idriss album.

Fes: Funky Cold* Medina (June 16-June 19, 2011)

Our introduction to Morocco began after exiting the plane on the tarmac in Fes. The new looking airport was clean and inviting and surrounded by palm trees (who doesn’t love a palm tree lined runway?) and it was definitely hot. Inside things were less cheery. The customs line moved painfully slow and the Moroccan police detained an “unruly passenger” from the flight, leading to lots of shouting and arguing (we never did figure out what happened). After getting our passports stamped, the guards wanted to search both of our bags. They were most interested in the books we brought with us, looking at them carefully, and slowly flipping through the pages. We don’t know what they thought they would find. They were also concerned about Patrick’s tent and the tent poles. We didn’t know the French word for tent, but Nora did her best “circumlocution” (as her AP French teacher would call it), and finally the guards were satisfied that it was something used for camping, either a “parasol” or a “sac de couchant” (it was neither), and let us pass. The bulky guy next to us who decided to bring his protein powder in large, clear plastic bags instead of its original container looked like he was going to have a much harder time making it past the guards as we left (note to travelers: it is never a good idea to pack large bags of white powder in your carry-on).

Fes’s primary claim to fame is that it’s Medina (old Arab quarter - as opposed to the newer Ville Nouvelle built by the French) is the one of the most complete medieval cities in the Arab world. Built as early as the 8^th century, the Medina is a huge grid-less maze of shops and markets (souks) hidden away along narrow lanes. It is easy to get lost inside the Medina (and we often did), and most of our time in Fes was spent wandering inside the Medina walls. There are shops and souks for everything under the sun. Beyond the spice and leather markets that are marked on maps, we also found a cell phone and electronics souk and a flip-flop souk, among many others.  As you wander, locals often offer to take you to a view of one of two leather tanneries inside the Medina (the tanneries are open air and you can get a good view of them from the roofs of many buildings), or suggest a good restaurant. Occasionally someone will offer to guide you through the Medina, not taking the hint that you don’t want his service and walking with you until you firmly tell him to go away. On one occasion, when we decided to detour down a narrow side path, a seemingly friendly boy offered to show us to the tanneries (which we had already seen).  He began following us, and when we declined his offer several times, he began yelling anti-American epithets at us and eventually physically blocked our path, forcing us back onto the main road. With that exception, however, Moroccans have been pleasant and friendly, often saying “Enjoy your time in Morocco” as you walk by. [And, as of this post date, this is still an isolated incident].

One of the most glaringly different things about Fes (and the rest of Morocco) is the call to prayer. Five times a day (dawn, midday, mid-afternoon, sunset, and nightfall), from the minaret of each mosque blares a recorded message/chant calling everyone to prayer. In Fes, where our guidebook suggested there were 365 minarets, this call came from every direction. From our room we could clearly hear at least two different recordings, playing simultaneously, and echoes of others around the Medina. From a distance (we hiked up to a hill above the old town one evening to watch the sunset) the call to prayer was both surreal and serene. At close range, and at 5 in the morning, however, it was a bit jarring (particularly on our first morning).

Click the photo below for our Fes photo album.

*Disclaimer: there is absolutely nothing cold about Fes in June.

London Calling (June 12 – June 16, 2011)

We never intended to begin our trip in London, but a free trans-Atlantic flight helped change our minds. Even after booking the London tickets using frequent flyer miles, we considered booking immediate onward flights to a less expensive destination.  Eventually we decided to spend four days in the city before moving on because Patrick had never been and London had special significance to Nora: it was where she kicked off her first backpacking trip—three months in Europe—exactly 10 years earlier. In the end, we both agree London was a great place to begin our adventure. The common language and the ease of moving around and exploring the city made it a good place to transition into life on the road.

Our days in London started with an early breakfast at our hostel (the advertised “free breakfast” that consisted of corn flakes, toast, and Nescafe – yum) before venturing out. While it rained the day we arrived and the day we left, the three days in between were pleasant (one was even sunny and warm!) and allowed us to see much of the city on foot. We didn’t venture far off the tourist path: Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, Buckingham Palace, Westminster, Parliament, Big Ben, the Tower of London and Tower Bridge, St. Paul’s Cathedral, Trafalgar Square, Soho, Covent Gardens, Notting Hill, and a lot of walking along the Thames. We also explored the National Gallery (seeing  works of Van Gogh, Gaughin, Monet, and Renoir among others) and the British Museum (where, curiously, there is never a mention of how the museum came to possess the Rosetta Stone, sculptures from the Parthenon, Egyptian tombs, or most of its 7 million artifacts).We stopped for fish and chips twice and, of course, at a pub or two. One, “Ye Old Cheshire Cheese,” was rebuilt after the fires of 1666, but had roots much older (more recently, Dickens was a regular). It was dark and a little dank, just the way it should be, but pints were cheap and we liked the idea that this pub had been serving pints to people in this location since the earliest American colonies were founded. We stuck to lagers because even on a cold, rainy London day a pint of bitter (served warmish and flat) isn’t particularly appealing.

We also had the pleasure of meeting up with three old friends (Nora’s friend Matt from her trip to Australia; Patrick’s friend Pete from Arizona; and our friend Theo from San Francisco). Thanks to all of them for making the effort to meet up with us and share in our London experience.

Click the photo below to see our photo album for London.

The Adventure Begins (June 11, 2011)

The night before we left for London we stayed at La Casa Mallonee in Santa Rosa, and on the morning of departure Nora’s parents drove us to the airport. We arrived with plenty of time to spare, but were immediately worried when we both had never seen SFO so busy.  Apparently it was the first weekend after school was out in the Bay Area and everybody was heading out of town. To make a long story short, we missed boarding our flight by a matter of minutes. However, things worked out for the best when we got a direct flight to Chicago, which cut out one of the connections (the original itinerary was SFO-LAX-CHI-LON). After a short layover in Chicago, during which we said goodbye to America by sharing “America’s” hot dog and a greasy hamburger at the BillyGoat tavern we boarded for London. It was here that we found the catch to our good luck at SFO, we weren’t seated next to each other anymore for the 8-hour flight to London and nobody would trade seats with us. C’est la vie.

Notable things we sold prior to the trip: the Saab, our bed, kitchen table, guitar amplifier, mountain bike (twice), portable DVD player, folding TV tray, broken iPod, 3 bookshelves, and  lots of books.

Things we left on the curb: desk, desk lamp, desk chair, microwave, 1 bookshelf, random plates and bowls,  textbooks, assorted kitchen items,  all the books we couldn’t sell and didn’t want, and about 6 cold Budweisers and Coors Light.