Day 6
We ate a fantastic (and free!!!) breakfast at our hotel- soft boiled eggs, apricot jam, bread that was something between a crepe and naan, dannon yogurt, and of course- coffee and hot milk. Then sheryl and brendan went to the train station to get tickets for that night, and i head to the public gardens behind the Katouba. The Katouba is a 12 century tower which was used to call people to prayer. It is in remarkable condition, and still one of the highest points in the city. the sun was bright and the garden was filled with lovely orange trees and benches. I wrote in my journal until the others joined me. I do still try to keep an old fashioned ink and paper journal during the longer trips, and not just so i have an excuse to take periodic café breaks along the way. Its very satisfying to see your own adventures recorded in your own handwriting.
After the others joined me in the garden, we walked to the medina and the kasbah. At which point we had an odd realization- none of us actually knew what a kasbah was. We all had some vague notion of old crumbling walls- but was the kasbah an old fortification, the term for the tower or gate, a generic term for the old part of town, or something more specific still?
so to clear up any lingering confusion-
The Casbah (French) or as transliterated from Arabic Qasba (from qasba, قصبة, 'citadel') is specifically the citadel of Algiers and the traditional quarter clustered round it. More generally, kasbah denotes the walled citadel of many North African cities and towns.
So we werent too far off, though we had visited several without realizing it.
We wandered around the kasbah for awhile, and then went back for one final tour of the souks. I dont think i could ever get bored of them, though i would certainly go broke within a week. We had dinner with our friends at 114 again, and then Sheryl and Brendan left for the night train to tanger. they would spend one day and one night there before flying back to marseille early the next morning. I went back to the hostel and to bed.
Day 7
I decided to spend my solo day on an afternoon tour with Sahara adventures. I met the bus at 9 and we headed in the direction of the Ourzuka falls. My travel companions for the day:
Patrick and Linda- a middle aged british couple on holiday. Patrick was a hypno-therapist. A young couple about to leave on their honeymoon- she was morrocan, he was from Cyprus. The young mans parents were there too.There were also two belgian girls travelling together- one was a physical therapist, the other a travel agent- both spoke several languages, and i was able to have a conversation with them in french.
our van head off, stopping as usual for the occasional photo shoot. Our first visit was to a beautiful building in the atlas mountains where there was a large pottery studio. The shutters and doors were all painted a vivid blue, the exterior walls were hung with red and orange carpets, and the terrace and yard were full of unpainted clay pots. I talked to one of the craftsman who was making clay lamps. He told me he could make thirty in a day. Judging by the clusters of clay objects covering every square inch of floor and shelf (and making turning around with a purse very dangerous!), he had been at it for years. The stop was followed, as always, by a chance to buy souvenirs. I dont think anyone bought anything.
Our next stop was a garden. A tour explained the medicinal and culinary uses of each of the plants in their garden. They had everything from lavender, wormwood to several variations of mint and aloe.
this was-again!- followed by a sales pitch. you could buy medicinal creams and ointments and cooking spices from the gift shop, where our tour ended. This did give me a chance to talk to patrick. I told him i was a psychology student, and he seemed very willing to talk about his work as a hypnotherapist. He explained that he didnt necessarily cure people, he just created an atmostphere in which the brain was able to heal itself. It was fascinating, but as with the herbal medicines, im not sure ive been convinced.
Our last stop was the waterfall. We paid a guide to lead us from the small town by the river to the actual fall, it was about a half hour walk through a rather poorly marked trail. Several guides offered there services, we went with the cheapest, and found out later that he didnt show us all that he could have. live and learn i guess. It was still lovely.
During the return bus ride, I talked to the father of the young man from cyprus (would that make him a cyprisian??) He told me he thought capitalism was coming to an end just as communism had ended. The next order would be divinely inspired. I was glad to get off the bus.
That evening in Marrakesh i visited the Sadiaan tombs, then had dinner once more at 114. I started talking to another young couple at my table. She was english, he was from new zealand. Every year this couple took an extended motorcycle adventure in a different part of the world. This time they had been on the road for three weeks already, and had just come from timbuktu! huh, so it is a real place. I asked them, out of all the places they had visited, which were the most interesting? response- istanbul and estonia.
At one point during our conversation i looked down and saw that shakespeare, the server, had given me a glass of mint tea and i hadnt even noticed! he brought some for my friends as well! again, the people here amaze me.
I listened to some live music in the square before bed. It was sad to leave morroco, though it had been an exhausting week. I wouldnt have wanted to stay longer by myself. I desperately want to go back someday- I want to visit Fez and Rabat, spend more time in the atlas mountains, explore the coast more. But more than anything i want to know this place in a role other than that of a tourist.
I got up early the next morning and saw the square empty for the first time. Not even the vendors were up yet, and the wild cats had full rein. I got a taxi to the airport and started the next stage of my journey.
We ate a fantastic (and free!!!) breakfast at our hotel- soft boiled eggs, apricot jam, bread that was something between a crepe and naan, dannon yogurt, and of course- coffee and hot milk. Then sheryl and brendan went to the train station to get tickets for that night, and i head to the public gardens behind the Katouba. The Katouba is a 12 century tower which was used to call people to prayer. It is in remarkable condition, and still one of the highest points in the city. the sun was bright and the garden was filled with lovely orange trees and benches. I wrote in my journal until the others joined me. I do still try to keep an old fashioned ink and paper journal during the longer trips, and not just so i have an excuse to take periodic café breaks along the way. Its very satisfying to see your own adventures recorded in your own handwriting.
After the others joined me in the garden, we walked to the medina and the kasbah. At which point we had an odd realization- none of us actually knew what a kasbah was. We all had some vague notion of old crumbling walls- but was the kasbah an old fortification, the term for the tower or gate, a generic term for the old part of town, or something more specific still?
so to clear up any lingering confusion-
The Casbah (French) or as transliterated from Arabic Qasba (from qasba, قصبة, 'citadel') is specifically the citadel of Algiers and the traditional quarter clustered round it. More generally, kasbah denotes the walled citadel of many North African cities and towns.
So we werent too far off, though we had visited several without realizing it.
We wandered around the kasbah for awhile, and then went back for one final tour of the souks. I dont think i could ever get bored of them, though i would certainly go broke within a week. We had dinner with our friends at 114 again, and then Sheryl and Brendan left for the night train to tanger. they would spend one day and one night there before flying back to marseille early the next morning. I went back to the hostel and to bed.
Day 7
I decided to spend my solo day on an afternoon tour with Sahara adventures. I met the bus at 9 and we headed in the direction of the Ourzuka falls. My travel companions for the day:
Patrick and Linda- a middle aged british couple on holiday. Patrick was a hypno-therapist. A young couple about to leave on their honeymoon- she was morrocan, he was from Cyprus. The young mans parents were there too.There were also two belgian girls travelling together- one was a physical therapist, the other a travel agent- both spoke several languages, and i was able to have a conversation with them in french.
our van head off, stopping as usual for the occasional photo shoot. Our first visit was to a beautiful building in the atlas mountains where there was a large pottery studio. The shutters and doors were all painted a vivid blue, the exterior walls were hung with red and orange carpets, and the terrace and yard were full of unpainted clay pots. I talked to one of the craftsman who was making clay lamps. He told me he could make thirty in a day. Judging by the clusters of clay objects covering every square inch of floor and shelf (and making turning around with a purse very dangerous!), he had been at it for years. The stop was followed, as always, by a chance to buy souvenirs. I dont think anyone bought anything.
Our next stop was a garden. A tour explained the medicinal and culinary uses of each of the plants in their garden. They had everything from lavender, wormwood to several variations of mint and aloe.
this was-again!- followed by a sales pitch. you could buy medicinal creams and ointments and cooking spices from the gift shop, where our tour ended. This did give me a chance to talk to patrick. I told him i was a psychology student, and he seemed very willing to talk about his work as a hypnotherapist. He explained that he didnt necessarily cure people, he just created an atmostphere in which the brain was able to heal itself. It was fascinating, but as with the herbal medicines, im not sure ive been convinced.
Our last stop was the waterfall. We paid a guide to lead us from the small town by the river to the actual fall, it was about a half hour walk through a rather poorly marked trail. Several guides offered there services, we went with the cheapest, and found out later that he didnt show us all that he could have. live and learn i guess. It was still lovely.
During the return bus ride, I talked to the father of the young man from cyprus (would that make him a cyprisian??) He told me he thought capitalism was coming to an end just as communism had ended. The next order would be divinely inspired. I was glad to get off the bus.
That evening in Marrakesh i visited the Sadiaan tombs, then had dinner once more at 114. I started talking to another young couple at my table. She was english, he was from new zealand. Every year this couple took an extended motorcycle adventure in a different part of the world. This time they had been on the road for three weeks already, and had just come from timbuktu! huh, so it is a real place. I asked them, out of all the places they had visited, which were the most interesting? response- istanbul and estonia.
At one point during our conversation i looked down and saw that shakespeare, the server, had given me a glass of mint tea and i hadnt even noticed! he brought some for my friends as well! again, the people here amaze me.
I listened to some live music in the square before bed. It was sad to leave morroco, though it had been an exhausting week. I wouldnt have wanted to stay longer by myself. I desperately want to go back someday- I want to visit Fez and Rabat, spend more time in the atlas mountains, explore the coast more. But more than anything i want to know this place in a role other than that of a tourist.
I got up early the next morning and saw the square empty for the first time. Not even the vendors were up yet, and the wild cats had full rein. I got a taxi to the airport and started the next stage of my journey.
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