ON MOROCCO
When we first started planning the Radical Sabbatical in 2019, Morocco was probably the first country I put on the “must visit” list. It lived up to the hype but for completely different reasons than I thought it would.
I’d seen so many advertisements for Morocco, I could close my eyes and picture it’s very essence. Camels trudging across the vast Sahara desert, colorful spice markets, bustling souks lit up by thousands of lanterns, and medina’s littered with vibrant textiles. I saw myself in a billowing caftan, strolling amidst ornate palaces, admiring intricate tilework, with mint tea being poured at every corner. Every single day this vision materialized in some way or another, but none of these things are what made me love Morocco.
What made me love Morocco was watching Moroccans love their fellow Moroccans. When I tell y’all you have never seen a collective group of people so genuinely happy to see their neighbors, BOI YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN A GROUP OF PEOPLE SO HAPPY TO SEE THEIR NEIGHBORS. And for clarification, when I say “neighbor” I do not mean an actual factual neighbor. I simply mean somebody you know, somebody you might have been known, somebody your mama knows, somebody you came up with 25 years ago, somebody you don’t know at all but happens to be a patron in your taxi cab. Neighbor in the loosest sense of the word.
Before arriving in Morocco we did our customary google search of “what to expect when traveling in Morocco” and all the bloggers mention how friendly and hospitable Moroccans are. I am a cynic so I was like “uhm, yeah duh, because they’re trying to hustle your foreign ass” and they are, without a doubt, trying to hustle your foreign ass. For now, however, I want to focus on the non cynical.
Walking through the streets of any Moroccan town, it would be impossible to miss how welcoming and hospitable people are. We stayed at a homestay in Imlil, a small town in the Atlas Mountains, and at some point our host Mohamed and I got to chatting. He disclosed that he, his daughter, and a group of her classmates had just arrived back from London. I asked him how he found the city and he said “Cold. And everybody there is so busy. You can really feel how busy they are there! They’re so busy, they don’t even have time to stop on the street to talk to one another.” He was flabbergasted.
At this point we had been in Morocco for about 3 weeks so I understood exactly why this lack of talking to each other on the street would surprise him, and his comment was a perfect representation of what I came to love about Moroccans. I didn’t know how to tell him that these people weren’t busy so much as we just don’t stop on the street to talk to one another. It would have been impossible for Mohamed to grasp this because Moroccans STAY stopping in the street to greet one another.
A few of my favorite examples:
Casablanca: We flew into Casablanca from the UAE and stayed in the city for one day. We went on a guided tour of Casablanca on that day. We were but 5 minutes into the tour when a man on the street saw our guide Tarik, stood up, crossed the street and embraced him. They jibber jabbered for a few minutes and then the man turns to Quintin, embraces him, and starts yammering in Arabic. It takes both Quintin and I a split second to realize that this man thinks Quintin is Moroccan. As Quintin stares at him blankly, the gentleman realizes Quintin is not Moroccan and without breaking stride (IE not breaking the embrace) he smiles, switches to English and says “Apologies my brother, I thought you were Moroccan. You’re not even Arab? Well, I hope you will show your wife a great time in Morocco. Enjoy!” He then hugs Tarik one more time, squeezes Quintin's hand, tells us he loves Tarik, reminds us to enjoy our time in Casablanca, and then goes back to sitting in his chair. A full embrace of Quintin, who he did not know, because he simply thought Q was his neighbor.
Chefchaouen: By the time we got to Chefchaouen, we’d been in Morocco for a month. We were accustomed to the excessive greetings. But even a month in, the novelty hadn’t worn off. While walking home one afternoon, there was a young man walking just in front of me and his friend turned the corner and came into sight. When they saw each other they both opened their arms like they were about to embrace, but they were a full half block away from one another. They literally walked the half block, beaming, calling greetings to one another, arms outstretched for a hug. AT LEAST 35 seconds of walking with their arms outstretched. It was so fucking cute. When is the last time somebody was that excited to see you?! In Morocco, every day.
Atlas Mountains: In the Atlas Mountains we did a two day trek up Mount Toubkal, the highest peak in Northern Africa. We had a guide (Mustafa) and a porter (Hassan) with us for the duration. For the entire two days, every guide, every porter, every shopkeeper, every villager we passed was greeting like a long lost brother. Mustafa and Hassan would stop, excessively shake hands/hold wrists/pat backs and chit chat for as long as possible. Sometimes Mustafa would turn around and walk the opposite direction with the person he had greeted to prolong the interaction. When he was satisfied with the interaction, he would turn back around and run up the trail to us. On the last day when he determined Q and I were competent enough to get ourselves off the mountain, he and Hassan literally went skipping down the mountain holding wrists YAMMERING the whole time to each other and also to anybody who passed by.
Draa Valley: In the Draa Valley we saw two men riding on two separate motorcycles holding wrists. I would bet my bottom dollar that one of them passed the other, realized he knew him and slowed down so the other could catch up. Then, of course, they get to yammering and the next thing you know they’re just….holding wrists, while motorbiking down the highway. Quintin saw them and literally shrieked “OH MY GOD THEY’VE FINALLY TAKEN IT TOO FAR. THEY’RE DRIVING TWO VEHICLES AND STILL HOLDING WRISTS. I gotta tell Sam about this” The only thing Quintin could talk about in Morocco was how he couldn’t wait to get home so he could show Sam how to properly greet a friend.
General: And then finally, my last example is taxis. In Morocco, taxis are shared so we often found ourselves in a taxi with other people. Taxi driver/passenger interactions are a treat. A rider would hop in, greet the driver, greet us, give it two beats and then the driver and passenger were off to the races excitedly chatting, hands waving all over the place, taking out packets of cookies and emphatically offering them to everybody in the cab, passengers wiping down the inside of the windshield if it was fogging. There is no such thing as a quiet cab ride in Morocco.
The warmth and friendliness Moroccans exhibit towards one another is unmatched. I admire how friendliness, unity, and a spirit of camaraderie seem to touch every part of life.
Aside from Moroccans being the cutest people alive, here are some highlights of the places we visited!
Marrakech: Straight up, the highlight of Marrakech is the vibe. Marrakech was easily my favorite city we visited in Morocco and it fully lives up to the allure. I loved the colors in Marrakech – all of the buildings have an orangish hue, with cobblestone streets and huge green tiled minarets surrounding the city; Marrakech is a treat for the eyes. We did a food tour just outside of town with a funny lady who had a lot of opinions. At night, the main square springs to life and there are tons of families out enjoying music. In my opinion, there isn’t much to do in terms of tourist attractions in Marrakech, but I had a great time walking the streets, appreciating the ambiance for a few days.
Fes: My highlight from Fez was the absolutely psychotic call to prayer. In case you’re unfamiliar, the call to prayer, also known as the "Adhan" or "Azaan," is an auditory signal that announces the daily prayers, reminding Muslims to engage in their religious obligations. The Adhan typically consists of melodious and rhythmic phrases, recited in Arabic, broadcast five times a day, corresponding to the five daily prayers in Islam. The Adhan holds significant cultural and spiritual importance, marking the rhythm of daily life in most Muslim-majority areas. By the time we got to Fez, we’d had been in Muslim-majority countries for two months. Two months X five calls to prayers per day = we were no longer phased by the call. But I’ll tell you that we were phased in Fez. That shit was psychotic.
The Fez Medina is about 1 square mile (.84 square miles to be exact). Within that square mile there are an estimated 300 mosques, all of which participate in the call to prayer. So you’re in a small, walled city, with 300 mosques and sunset rolls around and the most disorganized cacophony of offbeat recitations starts reverberating throughout the city. Imagine. 300 loudspeakers in a square mile.
Typically, the C2P lasts for about ~4 minutes. If you’re somewhere rural, where there are only 2 to 3 mosques within earshot, ~2 minutes. Typically, the call to prayer initiates at a very specific, precise time. It’s not like “oh the sun is setting, let’s go on up and remind people to pray.” NO. Based on your exact coordinates, there is an exact minute, which changes each day with the change of the sunrise/sunset time that dictates exactly when the call should be initiated. Prior to our experience in Fez, ALL of the mosques would queue up at the exact same time. It is actually really amazing. At the EXACT same time, you hear all the minarets come to life.
NOT IN FEZ BABY. The call to prayer in Fez lasts AT LEAST ~10 minutes (which is double everywhere else) and these folks are not starting and stopping at the designated time. It’s just a constant, loud ass buzz of muezzin starting up and finishing over a ten minute period. Quintin and I swear these muezzin (the people responsible for initiating the C2P) are hanging out in tea shops and then they hear one guy start at the proper time and they’re all like “OH SHIT, it’s time!!!” and then run up to their minaret to get theirs going as well. Now multiply that by 300 mosques in 1 square mile and what you have is insanity. A genuinely insane auditory experience. So, shouts to the muezzin in Fez for being the least organized muezzin in all the land. Everyday it made me laugh. Several times a day in fact.
Imlil: Aside from our guide and porter skipping up the mountain holding wrists, it was sipping fresh orange juice at every single trailside stand. Tell me. What’s better than watching 4 freshly picked oranges go through the fruit press, creating a tall, cold glass of OJ for me to sip as I look out over the expanse of the Atlas Mountains?! Not much, my friends….not much! (though the sunrise from the top of Mt. Toubkal was pretty spectacular!)
Draa Valley: And then finally, there was the Draa Valley. I was content to skip the Draa all together but Quintin read somewhere that it’s a TOP 25 TRAVEL EXPERIENCE TO HAVE BEFORE YOU DIE so there we were in the “Hollywood of Morocco.'' Honestly, whoever is running the marketing department for the Draa Valley needs to be let go immediately. There are movie sets there, but when compared with the natural beauty and historical significance of the area, said movie sets are dead ass boring.
The Draa Valley is an oasis framed by the Atlas Mountains to the north and the Sahara Desert to the south. The views are exquisite. The valley itself is adorned with a verdant ribbon of date palms, flourishing gardens, and traditional Kasbahs. Also, and perhaps most importantly, all of the buildings are pink. This looks cool all the time, but when the sun is setting and rising, the whole landscape, pink buildings included, is set alight creating this unbelievable panorama of timeless beauty. The sky, the sand and the buildings are all complementary shades of pink, orange, and red and it's sensational.
The highlight of our time in the Draa Valley was our riad. I would go back just to stay there again. A riad is a traditional Moroccan house. This place was so cute I could not stop shrieking (read: taking pictures) and showering Quintin with compliments for finding the place. The term "riad" is derived from the Arabic word for garden, reflecting the emphasis on creating a peaceful and private oasis within the bustling medinas. Riads feature architectural elements such as arched doorways, decorative tiles, intricate carvings, and a combination of geometric and floral patterns. This riad went ALL OUT in all of the aforementioned elements, with a gorgeous pool to boot. The attention to the smallest spaces, the smallest details is amazing. I spent 15 minutes walking around just the nook where we ate dinner being humbled by the tilework. One of my highlights in Morocco at large was staying in riads as they are amazingly beautiful, super unique and different.
