#  >  > Non Asia Travel Forums >  >  > Travel the World Travellers Tales Forum >  >  My first Morocco trip

## khmen

Been a long while since I've done a travel thread on here so thought I'd do one of my recent trip to Morocco in late December/Early January. 

Before I start I'll just say that it'll probably take me a while to finish the thread due to the amount of pictures I have and due to how busy I am with work, a new woman, looking for a new house and various other things but bear with it and hopefully it should be of interest. I'll just keep adding to it as and when I get chance. BTW, as well as pic heavy this thread will also be text heavy, I want to get some writing practice in.  :Smile: 

So, on with the show...

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## khmen

Due to grafting my nuts off for a couple of years solid I haven't had chance to get away anywhere, so I'd decided that I was 100% going somewhere, anywhere, for New Year/Early January. 

Only drawback being I could only really afford to go away for a couple of weeks due to work commitments.

So, as I don't like going long haul for much less than a month I was weighing up various European destinations with nothing particularly exciting me, when the thought struck me: Morocco. 

It's a place which I've wanted to visit for a long time but for some reason have never got around to - my interest in the place initially was piqued by the tales I'd heard of vast swathes of cannabis being cultivated and copious amounts of the resulting hashish.  :Wink: 

So, Morocco it was then! I looked on the net and within five minutes I'd booked a RyanAir flight from Luton to Marrakesh for the 29th December, £135 return.  :Very Happy:

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## Bettyboo

Fantastic!

I've always wanted to go to Morocco!

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## khmen

So, after a rather shit three and a half hour flight I landed in Marrakech Menara airport at 9am and got a taxi to my hotel near the main square of Marrakech's old town, Place D'Djemma El Fna. 

After a quick shit shower and shave I decided to take a stroll up to the Djemma El Fna for a bit of a look-see. As I entered the square I knew I'd arrived in Muslim North Africa - there were shady West Africans hawking knock off I-phones, snake charmers, guys with monkeys trying to earn a few quid putting them on tourists shoulders for snaps, armed soldiers and police hanging about, women begging in full face veils...in other words, it was completely alien and exotic to me and I knew then that I'd made the right choice coming here rather than the usual European destinations! 

Few photos of the main square:






Apologies for the shit photo quality, these were just a few quick phone snaps, the quality will drastically improve I promise!  :Very Happy: 

Next, I headed toward the landmark you can see in the last photo, the 12th century Koutoubia Mosque - I shall include some historical info and decent quality photos of it in the next post which I'll put up later after I've been to the pub to watch the football.  :Wink: 

(It's a start at least - I told ya it'd be a long drawn out thread!)

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## khmen

> Fantastic!
> 
> I've always wanted to go to Morocco!


Oh yes indeed, there are some absolute stunners there that's for sure, and they ain't all covered up and chaste either, if you know where to go... :Wink:  

More on that aspect much later in the thread.  :Very Happy:

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## Bettyboo

^ all the places in the desert in Oman had a bar full of Moroccan dancers...




> As I entered the square I knew I'd arrived in Muslim North Africa - there were shady West Africans hawking knock off I-phones, snake charmers, guys with monkeys trying to earn a few quid putting them on tourists shoulders for snaps, armed soldiers and police hanging about, women begging in full face veils...in other words, it was completely alien and exotic to me and I knew then that I'd made the right choice coming here rather than the usual European destinations!


Brilliant start. Much better than a trip to Phuket or Ibiza!

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## nigelandjan

I reckon I would loose weight going there for a couple of weeks

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## khmen

So, after I'd grabbed a bite to eat and had a coffee I decided to go and  have a squint at the enormous mosque I could see from the square. It's  one of Morocco's most famous landmarks, here's a quick bit of history  ripped from Wiki:




> The mosque is located about 200 metres (660 ft) west of the city’s the Jemaa El Fna souq,  a prominent market place which has existed since the city's  establishment. It is situated on the Avenue Mohammed V, opposite Place  de Foucauld. During French occupation, the network of roads was developed with the mosque as the central landmark, in the _ville nouvelle_. To the west and south of the mosque is a notable rose garden, and across Avenue Houmman-el-Fetouaki is the small mausoleum of Yusuf ibn Tashfin, the builder of Marrakesh, a simple crenellated structure.
> 
> The city of Marrakesh was captured by Almohads after the death of the Almoravid leader Ali ibn Yusuf  in 1147.  The Almohads did not want any trace of religious monuments  built by the  Almoravids, their staunch enemies, as they considered them  heretics.   Abd-al-Mu'min, who won the territory, was responsible for building the   first Koutoubiya mosque on the grounds of the former palace of Ali ibn   Yusuf in the southwest quarter of the medina. This first mosque was   built between 1147 and 1154 and completed in 1157.
> 
> This initial mosque was rebuilt under the Almohad Caliph Yacoub   El-Mansour, as it was realized halfway through construction that the mihrab (prayer niche) was misaligned and not oriented towards Mecca,   and underwent many changes until the end of the 12th century, when the   Andalusians defeated the Almohad dynasty. The alignment problem was a   minor issue, as devotees could always adjust the direction when  offering  prayers in the hall, but the decision was taken to build a new  mosque  alongside the first structure.The first mosque was completed  while the second mosque was undergoing  construction. The second mosque  was built identical to the first except  for its orientation. The  layout, architectural designs, inscriptions,  dimensions and materials  used for construction were all the same. The minaret plan and design  remained the same in both buildings.
> 
> Both these structures were built during the rule of Abd al-Mu'min   (reign 1130–63). The second mosque was started after 1154 and the   building was partially completed by September 1158, with the first   prayers held in the mosque at that time. It was completed by the 1190s,   though reported completion dates vary between 1162, 1190 and 1199. The   first mosque eventually deteriorated. It is apparent that the second   mosque was not built as an alternative to the first one, as the two   mosques shared the same site for 30 years before the first mosque became   derelict.


View of the Koutoubia from the Djemma El Fna:


Closer view from further down the boulevard:


View from base of Mosque:


Unfortunately - as with all Mosques in Morocco - entrance inside the mosque is off limits to non-Muslims, so I had to content myself with a stroll around the outside. 

Not that I minded particularly, it was a nice walk through some well kept gardens and hey, it's their country, their culture, their rules.  :Wink: 

Views as I circumnavigated the building:




Shame this fountain wasn't working, but nice view nonetheless:


In these next couple of shots you can see the foundations of the original mosque built on the site, referred to in the brief history I posted. 

Also, as luck would have it I managed to capture the moon in almost perfect alignment with the mosque. Maybe Allah was giving me his blessing for my first real trip through a Muslim land!  :Very Happy: 





Next I decided to take my first walk through Marrakech's famous souqs and markets - a labyrinthine maze of medieval alleys and narrow streets, overflowing with all sorts of colourful and exotic merchandise. Will update later.

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## khmen

> Brilliant start. Much better than a trip to Phuket or Ibiza!


Thanks Betty, it was a really interesting and enjoyable country to visit that's for sure. It actually exceeded my expectations in many ways.  :Very Happy: 




> I reckon I would loose weight going there for a couple of weeks


How so Nige? The food there is actually really good mate! There is loads of good quality grilled meat/kebabs, some excellent tagines(Essentially thick meat based broths), really good fish, fresh veggies, couscous, an abundance of fruit, particularly fresh oranges which grow absolutely everywhere...mmm, I'm getting hungry just thinking about it!  :Very Happy:

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## Latindancer

I recently met someone who lived in Morocco. He said that it was the most relaxed of all Muslim countries. There are even wineries ! It has the fastest Internet speeds in Africa. Sometimes when he goes to market to fill his gas bottle, he goes inside to lock his door, but the bottle has meanwhile disappeared.....only to appear later, filled for him by a neighbour.

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## khmen

For Nigel - This is a shish kebab sarnie from a street stall, loaded with freshly made flame grilled shish. I know it doesn't look great in the photo but trust me, it really was! After the photo was taken it was loaded with salad and lashings of chilli sauce, beautiful!

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## nigelandjan

Exactly mate ^  thats why I would loose weight  :Smile: 

Anyway great pictures in your thread ,, looking forward to some in the market

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## khmen

> I recently met someone who lived in Morocco. He said that it was the most relaxed of all Muslim countries. There are even wineries ! It has the fastest Internet speeds in Africa. Sometimes when he goes to market to fill his gas bottle, he goes inside to lock his door, but the bottle has meanwhile disappeared.....only to appear later, filled for him by a neighbour.


It was certainly a lot more relaxed than what I'd expected, not having really travelled through a Muslim country before. They seem to be very tolerant of each others differences, and very accepting of their main minorities, the Jews and the Berbers. 

The people run the range from completely westernised and liberal to traditional and orthodox, but they seem to rub along together just fine. You'll often see the opposite ends of the spectrum hanging out together - full-face veiled women hanging out with women with completely uncovered heads as an example. You don't get the sense that the more orthodox dictate terms to everyone else as is the case in many other Muslim countries. 

I'll expand on all of this further as the thread progresses, but suffice to say the people there were some of the most hospitable, warm and genuinely welcoming of any people I've come across on my travels. In my short time there I encountered a couple of acts of genuine good-natured kindness and generosity, so I can well believe the story about the neighbours.

And yes, the internet speed and availability of Wifi was really good across the country. I bought a SIM with 3G on my first day there and the connectivity was as good as in the UK.

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## khmen

So, onward into the souks of Marrakech's old medina I did wander, with  the intention of slowly ambling towards Ben Youssef Medersa, a 16th  Century religious school. 

Almost immediately upon entering from  the Djemma El Fna my senses were overwhelmed. The intense colours of  piles of silk scarves and carpets, the smells of baskets of spices  mingled with the smells of barbecued meat and fresh produce, the shops  stocked with fantastic twinkling lanterns, the shafts of sunlight  penetrating through the slatted wooden roof awnings, the laughter and  haggling of traders engaging in commerce, the flashing glances of  pretty, demure women in headscarves as they walked by - all combined to  create a visual and sensory feast - so much going on at once it was hard  to absorb it all. 

Vibrant, alive. This is what I'd come here for.  :Very Happy: 

I entered one of the main thoroughfares heading north to the middle of the medina, and this is the sight I was greeted with:





The guy in the bottom left of this frame is wearing the traditional Moroccan Djellaba, a thick robe with a pointy hood. They're worn nationwide, both by young and old, men and women:


Onward into a more open, uncovered area of the souk:


Some assorted items for sale, the entire medina is an interior decorators wet dream, you could kit a place out with a really unique collection of stuff if you could get it all back:




Continued shortly...

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## Bettyboo

The dark side in this one is strong I sense.

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## khmen

Marrakech is known as Morocco's "Red City", due to the predominant colour of the old city walls ranging from ochre-rose to a deep red - you can see why in this shot:


I see an arch at the end of a street...


And as I approach I see a perfect photo opportunity, such a beautiful light. A better photographer than myself would probably have done it more justice but I'm still happy with the result:




Not long after coming through this arch I came to the place I'd been heading toward, the Ben Youssef Medersa. (Thank you google maps app with location pinpointing, I'd have never found my way there without it in the maze of the medina!) 

I shall upload some info and photos on it later, aswell as some more scenes from the souks on the way back.

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## khmen

> The dark side in this one is strong I sense.


Hehe, I thought the exact same when I saw that reviewing the photos, very Star Wars-esque!  :Very Happy:  

It is quite trippy seeing groups of people floating past in these pointed hoods, thankfully I didn't see a group wandering along in white ones - I think that'd have freaked me out a bit, they are quite reminiscent of the get-up the KKK wear!  :Very Happy:

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## Davis Knowlton

When I was a lad of about 12, we lived in Carthage. Every Sunday, Dad would load the whole family in the car and we'd drive to Tunis for church services.

Just before getting to the church, he'd drop me off at the entrance to this huge souk.

I was free to wander as long as in two hours, I was at the church waiting for the holy to emerge.

What a place for a kid. Less than 16 years after the end of WW2, the souk was crammed with Nazi memorabilia....helmets, SS daggers, decorations like Iron Crosses, and loads of shops selling local knives, rifles and the like.

I've never been back to North Africa, but have fond memories of those Sundays in the souk. Never ran out of new places to explore and things to see.

Great thread!

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## khmen

Thanks Davis, sounds like a great place to have explored as a kid, especially with all the World War memorabilia for sale! If you'd amassed a haul of it it'd be worth an absolute fortune these days!

There was nothing quite so unusual on sale in the Marrakech souks but I still came across some quite bizarre merchandise - a lot of endangered animal parts, camels heads denoting the meat for sale in a butchers, a section with all sorts of exotic pets for sale etc etc. You could wander the medina for days and still come across new things you haven't seen before.  :Very Happy: 

Thanks for your input mate, always appreciated.  :Wink:

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## khmen

So, I arrived at my destination, the 16th Century Ben Yousseff Medersa. Another quick history rip from Wiki:




> The *Ben Youssef Madrasa* was an Islamic college in Marrakesh, Morocco, named after the Almoravid sultan Ali ibn Yusuf (reigned 11061142), who expanded the city and its influence considerably. It is the largest Medrasa in all of Morocco.
>  The college was founded during the period of the Marinid (14th century) by the Marinid sultan Abu al-Hassan and allied to the neighbouring Ben Youssef Mosque. The building of the madrasa was re-constructed by the Saadian Sultan Abdallah al-Ghalib (15571574). In 1565 the works ordered by Abdallah al-Ghalib  were finished, as confirmed by the inscription in the prayer room. Its  130 student dormitory cells cluster around a courtyard richly carved in cedar, marble and stucco. The carvings contain no representation of humans or animals as required by Islam, and consist entirely of inscriptions and geometric patterns. This madrasa was one of the largest theological colleges in North Africa and may have housed as many as 900 students. One of its best known teachers was Mohammed al-Ifrani (1670-1745).
> 
> 
>  Closed down in 1960, the building was refurbished and reopened to the public as an historical site in 1982.


Unfortunately, just as I arrived a massive tour group of arrogant French bastards also arrived, so I couldn't really get any decent wide shots of the magnificent inner courtyard. Well, I did take some but I hate photo's filled with fucking tourists so I'm only going to post the detail shots I took here. Love the Islamic style of architecture and decor, really intricate and delicate, detail within detail within detail.

Here's a couple of shots ripped from the net, sans tourists, to give an idea of the place:





And here's my shots of the place, the only ones I could get without people ruining them:







A small inner atrium with the students sleeping quarters branching off:


Window inside one of the students rooms:


Window looking inward to the main courtyard, love the thought the architects put into perspective in Islamic architecture:


Some close up detail:




And that is pretty much that for the Madrassa, could have hung about waiting for the frogs to leave but I had a train to book to my next destination so I decided to leave it at that. 

Next update will feature the walk back through the Souks and then I'll be moving onward to the next place I visited.

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## thaimeme

Well done, Khmen...

Interesting thread.

 :Smile:

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## khmen

So, as promised here's the photo's on my walk back to the main square from the Madrassa. The light shining through the slats catching the flecks of dust made for a really pretty walk. Again, a better photographer than I could have probably captured the atmosphere a lot better but I tried my best!



Another couple of tourists in this shot ruining it slightly - don't really mind the pretty woman so much but the bearded Euro dude should have got the fuck outta frame! Would have been much better with just thee blind guy center frame alone but hey ho:


Think the guy in red is hawking fresh mint, used to make the delicious and ubiquitous Moroccan mint tea, or Moroccan whisky as the locals sometimes refer to it as:





One of the demure stunners I referred to earlier gliding past, you can't see her that well but she was really pretty:






And that is that for Marrakech, for the time being. I have more photos of other things that I took when I returned before flying home which I shall upload at the end of the thread.

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## khmen

So, remember earlier in the thread I mentioned that the first thing that piqued my interest in Morocco years back was tales of a vast cannabis cultivation region? 

Well, that particular aspect of Morocco still interests me! So, I'd decided that if I was visiting Morocco, I was certainly not going to miss the chance to travel to the heart of the dope growing region! 

Only problem being that, as this was a spur of the moment booking type thing I didn't realise that that region, the Rif Mountains, was on the other side of the country. 

Well, I say "problem", but I subsequently found out that it is possible to catch a sleeper train which travels the 10 hour train ride to Tangier overnight, saving a nights hotel cost in the process.  :Wink: 

So, I booked the night train to depart Marrakech on the 30th December and arrive in Tangier for New Years Eve morning. Then, I'd have to catch a bus to a town called Chefchaouen which sits in the heart of the growing region. Oh yes, now I was really getting excited for what lay ahead... :Wink: 

Next post will be describing the journey and my first day in Chefchaouen, I'll throw it up when I get chance.

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## SiLeakHunt

it looks just like Tunis, mind you they do say most of North Africa looks the same

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## fishlocker

Great travel thread. Glad you turned your dream into reality. And to share with the world as you are is priceless. Dreams of youth and travel inspired by Crosby Stills and Nash on the road to Marrakech is a dream for me as well. Of youth and listening to Rush 2112 A passage to Bangkok. "Our first stop is in Bogota to check Columbian fields. The natives smile and pass along a sample of their yield.Sweet Jamaican pipe dreams,golden Acapulto nights. Then Morocco and the east, fly by morning light." Safe travels to you. I've enjoyed the pics, travel is always inspiring me to keep trucken on. Keeps the dreams alive.

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## khmen

The next day in Marrakech was spent mainly just ambling about and soaking in the atmosphere, stopping off for a cafe noir here, sending a postcard to me old ma there, eating a couple of fresh oranges there, reading a book I'd been given by my uncle for Xmas before I went - "Elephants On Acid: And Other Bizzare Experiments", good book btw  :Wink:  - generally just bumbling about killing time until my night train at 8.45pm.

As night fell I made my way to the station and got on the train - I'd been slightly apprehensive as I knew that the Moroccan style sleeper, or "couchette", consists of a compartment containing two bunk beds. As I was travelling alone there was the possibility that I could end up in a compartment with three sweaty, stinking strangers who'd be farting and snoring all night!  :Very Happy:  

I needn't have worried though, it turned out two of the bunks would remain empty and I'd have only one travelling companion - a westernised Moroccan lad, a student in his early twenties called Abdullah, on his way back to his hometown of Tangier to see his family over the New Years holidays. 

He was a nice friendly lad and spoke decent English - not so common in Morocco where the first language is Darija (Moroccan Arabic), the second is French, the third Spanish and the fourth English. 

(My schoolboy level French/Spanish was severely tested out in Morocco I tell thee, but it was good to push myself and it gradually came back to me as I progressed through my trip.  :Very Happy: )

We exchanged pleasantries and a bit of small talk for a bit, then we both lay back to read a book. After an hour or so I noticed Abdul had turned to sleep so I popped a 10mg Valium, then washed it down with a couple of drams of Glenlivet 12yr old - both of which I'd brought from the UK for just such an occasion.  :Wink: 

I turned the light off and fairly soon I was drifting into a deep and pleasant sleep, aided by the gentle rocking motion and repetitive sound of the train as it snaked its way across the Moroccan night toward Tangier. My mind was full of thoughts of the geometric patterns I'd recently seen, the flashing eyes of the demure lovelies I'd encountered, the mountains and hashish which lay ahead, and the Crosby Stills Nash and Young song...

I was aboard the Marrakech Express baby, and the journey had only just begun.  :Very Happy: 

OK, so not quite, I was strictly speaking going in the opposite direction to that of the song on the Tangier Express, but still.

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## khmen

> Great travel thread. Glad you turned your  dream into reality. And to share with the world as you are is priceless.  Dreams of youth and travel inspired by Crosby Stills and Nash on the  road to Marrakech is a dream for me as well. Of youth and listening to  Rush 2112 A passage to Bangkok. "Our first stop is in Bogota to check  Columbian fields. The natives smile and pass along a sample of their  yield.Sweet Jamaican pipe dreams,golden Acapulto nights. Then Morocco  and the east, fly by morning light." Safe travels to you. I've enjoyed  the pics, travel is always inspiring me to keep trucken on. Keeps the  dreams alive.


Hey Fishlocker, thanks a lot for your post it's genuinely appreciated input, truly inspirational stuff right there mate! 

The first time I'd heard about Morocco was from an older bloke, my best friends father, who'd been involved in the hashish smuggling business in Morocco during the eighties and early nineties. 

He showed me photos of terraces full of plants, plants drying on roofs in the sun, of the hashish producing process, of tonnes of product in storage, of the chaos and beauty of the Moroccan cities as they were then...

To a young impressionable cannabis consuming mind it was...mind-blowing really, to think that somewhere like that existed on the same earth as my drab and dreary corner of the UK. 

Not long after that I went to Amsterdam, then to India, then to South East Asia, and the rest is history - the travel bug and wanderlust had bitten me, and I doubt it'll ever leave me. There's always somewhere else amazing and awe-inspiring around the next corner.  :Very Happy: 

But, I never did get around to Morocco, until now that is.  :Very Happy: 

Funny that you mentioned the "Marrakech Express" song, I'd planned to put it in my next post, I shall check out the other song you mentioned too.  :Wink:

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## BaitongBoy

Enjoying this thread, khmen...Thank you...Some great commentary, mate...

I remember being on The City of New Orleans, the line made famous by Arlo Guthrie's rendition of a Steve Goodman song...

Riding on the City Of New Orleans
 Illinois Central, Monday morning rail
 Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders
 Three Conductors; twenty-five sacks of mail
 All along the southbound odyssey - the train pulls out of Kankakee
 And rolls along past houses, farms, and fields
 Passing trains that have no name, and freight yards full of old black men
 And the graveyards of the rusted automobile

 Good morning, America, how are you?
 Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son
 I'm the train they call the City Of New Orleans
 I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done

 Dealing card games with the old man in the Club Car
 Penny a point - ain't no one keeping score
 As the paper bag that holds the bottle
 Feel the wheels rumbling 'neath the floor
 And the sons of Pullman Porters, and the sons of Engineers
 Ride their father's magic carpets made of steel
 And, mothers with their babes asleep rocking to the gentle beat
 And the rhythm of the rails is all they feel

 Good morning, America, how are you?
 Say, don't you know me? I'm your native son
 I'm the train they call the City Of New Orleans
 I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done

 Night time on the City Of New Orleans
 Changing cars in Memphis Tennessee
 Halfway home - we'll be there by morning
 Through the Mississippi darkness, rolling down to the sea
 But, all the towns and people seem to fade into a bad dream
 And the steel rail still ain't heard the news
 The conductor sings his songs again - the passengers will please refrain
 This train got the disappearing railroad blues

 Good night, America, how are ya?
 Said, don't you know me? I'm your native son
 I'm the train they call the City Of New Orleans
 I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done

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## fishlocker

One of my more favorite LPs. I played the hell out of it back in 76. If you haven't heard it give it a go. Stellar Canadian band! Tighter than my first girlfriend. Light years ahead of their time. A concept LP in witch one side is one song. "Overture/The Temples of Syrinx". Perfect for ear buds, relaxants and a train ride.

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## fishlocker

A Canadian band that was/is light years ahead of their time. Tighter than my first girl friend. If you like this type/style of playing give the "A" side of Rush 2112 a play. In 2012 it came in at #2 on Rolling Stone's list of "your favorite Prog Rock Albums of all time". I wore grooves on my frets and took the finish off my Ibanez finger board back in high school playing "Overture/The Temples of Syrinx." Perfect for ear buds relaxants and a train ride. P.S. Have a safe trip.

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## khmen

On New Years Eve morning I awoke from my deep whisky and valium induced slumber, having travelled the width of Morocco through the night, to a conductor saying something to me in French. In my bleary eyed state I gathered he was saying something about us being around thirty minutes away from Tangier Ville train station.

Me and Abdul had a bit of a chat as we got ready and he helpfully informed me of the correct price I should pay to get from the train to the bus station - advising that it wasn't that far but the taxi drivers would likely try to rip me off if I didn't act like I knew the correct price. 

So, we departed the train together and bid each other farewell, him parting with a warm "I hope you enjoy your trip to Chaouen, it's a beautiful place. Welcome to Morocco my friend.", I thanked him and with that we went our separate ways.

After a bit of half-hearted haggling I negotiated the correct price with a taxi driver and a few minutes later I arrived at Tangier bus station, where I was met by an old guy who I initially assumed was a tout out to earn a few shekels. I made to shake him off and headed toward the ticket office but he presented me with a staff I.D card and asked where I wanted to go to in French.

"Je veux allez a Chefchaouen, combien pour un billet?". (I want to go to Chefchaouen, how much for a ticket?) As I was still half asleep and as my mind hadn't yet got used to using French again I thought he said 350 dirhams - at 14 dirhams to the GBP I thought that was rather steep for a two and a half hour local bus journey, but hey, I needed to get there so I passed him the money.

He looked at the cash, looked up at me, and cracked a toothy grin. "Non monsieur, pas trois cent cinquante dirham, trente-cinq dirham!" (No sir, not 350 dirhams, 35 dirhams!)

He took the 50 dirham note, gave me the 300 back and went to the ticket office. A couple of minutes later he returned with my ticket and 15 dirhams change, which I told him to keep for his honesty. He then showed me to my bus, cracked another big grin and walked away chuckling to himself about the stupid Englishman throwing money about like an idiot.  :Very Happy: 

Ahh, the delights of meeting such honest characters on ones travels, such encounters really help you warm to a people.

I took my seat and the bus soon after departed the station and headed south, directly toward the countries infamous cannabis producing heartland.

Immediately upon exiting the urban sprawl of Tangier the terrain turned mountainous, which was to continue for the entirety of the journey, getting progressively more rural and progressively more beautiful.

The precipitous mountain roads snaked their way up and down mountains, in and out of deep valleys and ravines - passing along the way beautiful orange plantations and olive groves, winding past beautifully clear rivers and waterfalls cascading down mountain sides, past shepherds herding their flocks of sheep to their pastures...real idyllic stuff.

I was entranced by the passing scenery and my excitement level was increasing exponentially with the altitude - Here I was, actually on my way to a place I'd heard so much about all of those years back. What seemed at the time such an exotic, faraway dream was now coming closer to being a reality with every hairpin bend of the road.  :Very Happy: 

Soon enough we rounded another mountain and I could see Chefchaouen over the other side of a valley. Aside from its location in cannabis country Chaouen is also famous for its old town, painted entirely in every conceivable shade of blue. Even from across the valley I could see the white and blue hues of the town against a backdrop of spectacular limestone cliffs. 

Soon enough we arrived in Chaouen and I was dropped off in the Nouvelle Ville, not far from the famous blue medina. A man approached, ascertained my nationality, then asked in English if I wanted a taxi. Almost in the same breath he asked if I wanted some hash. 

Of course I wanted some hash but I had only just arrived in town so hadn't sussed the scene yet, and the first rule of scoring drugs abroad is to not shit on your own doorstep by buying from people who know exactly where you're staying. I declined the hash and said I just wanted a taxi to take me to my hotel.

He called over his friend who had a minivan and I told him where I was staying and away we went, the hash tout jumping aboard too. He pulled out a handful of cellophane wrapped hash deals and again asked if I wanted any. "Nah mate I'm not interested, I don't smoke it, I'm just here for the scenery."  :Wink:  He eyed me up, gave me a disbelieving look and persisted, he was getting to be a bit of a pain in the arse. 

As we pulled up to my hotel I paid the driver and the hash tout started to walk with me, talking now about carpet shops, I'd attracted a Klingon. I realised that being polite to him wasn't going to get me anywhere so I turned on my lairy look and told him in no uncertain terms to jog on, I wasn't going to be buying any hash or any fucking carpets from him. 

He gave me a pleading look as I walked toward the hotel, "I'll wait for you, I show you my shop when you come out, I get you number one zero zero hash, no problem, OK?" I just shook my head and laughed, entering the hotel and shutting the door on him.  :Smile:

----------


## khmen

I walked up to the hotel reception and was greeted by the owner, a lovely young Moroccan woman with striking green/blue eyes and no head covering.

She informed me that my room was in the process of being cleaned but said I could sit on the communal rooftop terrace and wait, and that there were a couple of fellow Brits up there at present to chat with while I waited. 

She showed me up to a terrace accessed through a communal lounge area and gave me a glass of mint tea and a pot of strong, fresh coffee. As soon as I got onto the terrace the first thing I noticed was the view of the mountains, magnificent. The next thing I noticed was the fragrant aroma of hashish, and lo and behold there was a couple of Western men and a woman sat there smoking a spliff of some hash. 

I introduced myself and found out that they were all English, a couple from Southampton and a solo traveller from London. They invited me to sit with them and offered me a go on the joint, which I gratefully accepted. I inhaled a few pulls and felt that lovely calming feeling as it began to take effect, just what the doctor ordered after a journey across the length of the country!

In that moment, looking up at the beautiful mountains as the hashish flowed through my bloodstream, I knew that I'd made the right decision and was glad I'd made the effort to get here.

We sat for a while exchanging travel small talk, me inquiring about the hash scene and as to whether there were any events planned for New Year going on, what there was to see and do in town etc. Soon, the Moroccan lady came back and announced that my room was ready so I arranged to meet my fellow travellers back on the terrace a couple of hours later, the solo traveller passing me a small bit of hash to smoke in the meantime and some skins to roll it with.

After I'd had a shower and an hour or so doze I returned to the upstairs communal area and terrace with my camera to find it empty. Perfect, time for a few snapshots.

View from the communal seating area toward the terrace:


View of the doors leading onto the terrace:


View from the terrace of the mountains after which Chefchaouen (Two Horns) is named:


Panoramic shot of the view:


Window in the communal area:


Looking from terrace into communal area:


Next few updates will feature my NYE festivities and some walks in around Chefchaouen, will update when I get time.

----------


## khmen

So after I'd took a few shots on the terrace I decided to take a wander around the old town of Chefchaouen to take a few photo's.

As I exited the hotel I was pleased to note the tout from earlier had got bored and gone away! I turned the first corner after leaving my hotel and passed an old djellaba clad man who looked to be in at least his seventies smoking the traditional Moroccan hash pipe, known as a sebsi pipe. 

Obviously I wasn't going to point the camera in his face, so here's a photo featuring Keith Richards smoking one:



The fragrant waft of hashish hit my nostrils as we made eye contact, his eyes tinged red. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and gave me a smile and a slight nod, I returned the smile and passed on my way. This was the first of many locals I would see openly smoking hashish in the streets of Chefchaouen, ranging from young lads in their late teens to quite old like the fella I'd just passed. Hashish use was obviously something of a cultural norm in these parts.  :Smile: 

I got onto the main road which encircles the old town and took a couple of shots:




Just as I was about to enter the medina I bumped into the solo traveller I'd met earlier in my guesthouse, Chris. He asked what I was up to and invited me to join him at a restaurant in the main square, which I accepted. 

So, photography mission postponed until another day we made our way toward the main square, passing through narrow blue-painted alleys as we progressed.

Soon we arrived at the main square, which featured a big cedar tree as it's central point, an old kasbah (fort) and mosque bordering one edge, and a variety of restaurants and cafe's bordering the other edges:



In this pic you can see the rooftop restaurant (Aladdin) we were headed to on the left, and the old Kasbah to the right:





We reached the rooftop terrace, ordered, and Chris began to roll a joint. He informed me that pretty much all the cafes and restaurants in the square, and in town itself, permitted hashish use on the premises.

Mountains looming above the terrace:


I ordered my first proper Moroccan dish of the trip, a lamb kefta tagine. A tagine is a dish named after the conical terracotta pot it's cooked in and is generally a thick meat and vegetable based broth, very filling and tasty, especially on the fairly cold Moroccan winter nights.

The lamb kefta tagine is effectively a thick tomato based broth with spiced minced lamb meatballs which then has an egg cracked on top which fries with the heat of the dish. 

It was beautiful but I don't have any photo's of it, here's a video of the Hairy Bikers in Marrakech's Djemma El Fna square cooking the exact same dish:




With a belly full of food and a head full of hashish I noticed the moon rising over the mountains above the terrace:



Not long after me and Chris decided to head back to the guesthouse to relax before getting ready for the New Years festivities. Well, I say festivities - there wasn't really much going on for it as far as we could gather. 

There's only a few of places in Chefchaouen which sell alcohol, hotels mainly, so we'd decided we'd just rock up to the nearest one to our guesthouse later on to see what was going on...it was certainly going to be a different New Years Eve to the wild, debauched ones I'd had in the past in Goa, Thailand, Cambodia, UK etc... :Very Happy:

----------


## khmen

When we got back to the guesthouse I went to sit alone in the communal area to roll a joint of the hash that Chris had given me earlier in the day. 



As I sat there I noticed that the moon was rising along one side of the valley, while the sun was setting on the other.  :Very Happy:  I went out to the terrace to check it out:




So as the sun set on 2014 there I was, in Chefchaouen at last, smoking a joint and enjoying the scene as it played out. I sat there until the sun slipped behind the mountains - Watching the mountains beneath the moon turn from an ochre yellow, to a glowing rose, to a ghostly blue - simply stunning, enhanced all the more by the joint I was smoking no doubt:

Sun set:


Ochre moon rise:


Rose glows:


Blue Hues:




Sun sinks over the mountains for the last time in 2014:

----------


## BaitongBoy

Gotta love it, khmen...Very nice thread...Thank you...




> Obviously I wasn't going to point the camera in his face, so here's a photo featuring Keith Richards smoking one


This kicked off his career...The one where he began falling out of trees...Great pic of the old/young guy...

----------


## khmen

> Gotta love it, khmen...Very nice thread...Thank you...
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
>  Originally Posted by khmen
> 
> ...


Cheers Baitong Boy, I recently read a really good article relating to the Stones in Morocco which mentions the photo, might as well add it to the thread for a bit of wider interest:




> *Rolling down to Marrakech*
> 
> 
> In the Sixties, Morocco was to the Rolling Stones what India was to The  Beatles. Whereas the Fab Four were inspired by the possibility of  reaching a state of bliss, Mick Jagger, Brian Jones, Keith Richards and  their entourage were enticed by the prospect of danger, magic and the  primeval.
> 
> It's easy to see what attracted them. Walking through the souks of  Marrakech is like entering a phantasmagoria. The narrow streets are  organised craft by craft. A wall of brightly coloured slippers elides  into an avenue of glinting brass that then turns into a corridor of  mirrors or a cavern of freshly beaten metal reeking of oil.
> 
> 
> Parts  of the medina are positively medieval. Workers sit in small, dimly lit  rooms weaving carpets, chickens are sold alive with their legs trussed  together, beggars with hollowed-out eyes have their heads encased in  cowls. It feels like being dragged backwards through time.
> ...


More at link: Rolling down to Marrakech | Daily Mail Online

----------


## BaitongBoy

^Good stuff...Cheers...

----------


## grasshopper

This thread is better than first class.

----------


## pseudolus

Very good thread indeed  :Smile:

----------


## patsycat

Great thread, really enjoying it.

----------


## khmen

Around 8 o clock I met with Chris and we took a wander up to the nearest place which was serving alcohol, the Hotel Parador. 

As we entered the place wasn't exactly rocking for a New Year. As we walked through the lobby to the small bar there were a few groups of westerners scattered about on the seating having a drink, a few people in the restaurant having a meal and that was about it.

We entered the bar and ordered some overpriced Flag, one of a few different local beers brewed in Morocco. It cost 30 dirham, just shy of 3 euros, for a 250ml bottle so not cheap at all. There were a couple of locals propping up the bar but not much going on in there either. So far so dull.

We went to sit in the lobby where we proceeded to knock back a few beers, as the place gradually started filling up with an assortment of foreigners and local men. These local men had a certain look about them that I'd seen in many places before, distinctive the world over. I immediately recognised by their style of clothing and mannerisms that these guys were likely the local "big men" and/or police. Given the area we were in, likely a mix of both.

I needed to buy some cigarettes so left the hotel and the cars they'd arrived in were expensive, and there were chauffeurs and more smartly dressed guys knocking about talking and smoking. Some looked fairly serious. 

I mentioned who I suspected these men were to Chris and he seemed a bit dismissive. I said "Well, who else would they be in such a town? We're right up in bandit country here mate."

"Well, they're probably the local hotel and restaurant owners or something"

"Well yes Chris, but where do you think the money in this area comes from to build hotels and restaurants?"

It was at this time I started to realise that, despite his use of cannabis, Chris wasn't exactly street smart, a bit naive almost. During a later conversation about cannabis cultivation in the area I mentioned in passing that in the growing season Chefchaouen has cultivated cannabis fields within 10 minutes walk of town, visible from our hotel terrace. He dismissed this out of hand saying "Nah mate, there's no way they'd grow it so close to a tourist town, you'd have to go much deeper into the mountains to see that", despite me knowing through prior reading that was the case, and that the road we'd both arrived into Chaouen by was flanked either side with cultivated fields from spring to autumn. I couldn't be bothered to argue about it with him.

Around ten-ish when the lobby was beginning to become really full a couple of beautiful looking Asian women asked if they could sit at our table, due to lack of anywhere else to sit. "Now we're fucking talking!" thinks I, "Of course you can, no problem"  :Wink: 

They sat down and we started to chat, turned out they were Singaporean but living in London working in finance. Classy kind of girls, I'm thinking if I play my cards right this could turn out to be an interesting New Year.

Chris, who works in finance, then began to bore them silly by talking shop thinking that would impress them. I could see their eyes glaze over almost instantly, thinking "boring [at][at][at][at]". I was beginning to dislike Chris.

I knew it was a lost cause from that point onward, and soon enough it was "See you later guys, nice to meet you, have a great night" as they made their excuses and left. Fuck you Chris, fuck you very much you fucking dullard.  :Very Happy: 

Soon after a young couple replaced them, a Swedish girl and a Moroccan man dressed in a slightly Jamaican-esque manner. Nice enough couple, and the topic soon turned to hashish, and the fact that the Moroccan guy had some top grade hashish from the surrounding mountains about his person. He suggested we go out on the terrace by the pool to smoke some. 

I was a bit unsure given the presence of people I suspected to be police knocking about the place, but he assured me blind eyes are turned throughout this region and subsequently confirmed my suspicions as to who these characters were - Local "families" concerned in production. Chris looked a bit sheepish. 

We went out to the pool and began to smoke on the terrace, where we remained until the New Year countdown began inside. The New Year had began with a rather tame whimper rather than a bang, but I didn't mind at all. I was full of beer and hash and all was well with the world. 

After a few more beers I said my goodbyes and left Chris and the couple to go back to the hotel, where I retired to the terrace with the last of the hash Chris had given me and the bottle of whisky. I sat gazing at the stars and the outlines of the mountains, contemplating the year which lay ahead, until a silence fell over the town...and I continued to burn the midnight lamp, alone.  :Very Happy:

----------


## khmen

^Next update will be more interesting, reading that back it bores even me but I had to write it for continuity purposes. Could have probably stripped it down a bit but there ya go, got some decent piccies coming up in the next few posts so bear with it.  :Wink:

----------


## BaitongBoy

Keep it coming, khmen...Give Chris a kick in the balls for me...

----------


## BaitongBoy

No, mate...You've done well...Don't think...Just write...And pics of the Singer gals, please...Heh...

And one of Chris, to piss on...

----------


## khmen

On New Years Day I awoke around 10am feeling fresher than on any New Years Day I can remember previously, a slight lingering headache but nothing more. A good start to a New Year, so I decided to go and have a stroll about town to have a proper look at the famous blue-hued medina and breath in some crisp mountain air to clear my head.

I left the hotel and immediately turned left where I came across one of the old town gates:




I then walked through the gate onto the main street encircling the medina to find a shop to buy a bottle of water. 

View up the street with the Kasbah to the left:


View of some steps leading down away from the medina into the newer part of town:


I located some water, walked back through the gate and made my way into the medina. As the old town is built on a mountain side you're always going either up or down slopes and steps. Not an ideal destination for those with mobility issues!:





I soon came across a small square with a couple of local cafes surrounding it where I stopped for a couple of strong cafe noir:



This is a common feature of every Moroccan town/city I visited, most neighbourhoods have one, a public water fountain:



Reportedly the water is safe to drink but I didn't really want to risk it! I soon ambled onward feeling a bit more alive after my caffeine hit:












Continued shortly...

----------


## khmen

Didn't notice this painted on the entrance to a small art gallery at first, what with being overwhelmed with all of the tones of blue!:

















And to wrap up this little walking tour of the psychedelic streets of Chefchaouen, a shot featuring some cute pussy  :Very Happy: :



Next few posts will feature walks around the mountains surrounding Chefchaouen, will upload when I get chance.

----------


## khmen

I've just realised that I haven't really given any historical background to Chefchaouen, so here's a very brief history explaining it:




> An isolated refuge for over 400 years before absorption in the 1920s into the Spanish Protectorate, *CHEFCHAOUEN* (pronounced “shef-*sha*-wen”,  sometimes abbreviated to Chaouen) remains today somewhat aloof from the  goings-on in the rest of the country. 
> 
> 
> 
> Visiting Chefchaouen requires  venturing into the rugged Rif mountains and it almost feels by chance  that one comes upon the town, still hidden beneath the towering peaks  from which it takes its name. 
> 
> 
> 
> The setting, like much of the Rif, is  largely rural and the bright lights and bustling noise of cities less  than half a day’s drive away are soon forgotten. That’s not to say that  Chefchaouen is completely isolated, for the town has long been a stop on  the intrepid backpacker circuit – thanks in part to the easy  availability of the Rif’s _kif_ – and has also gradually become  popular with mainstream tourists, who are arriving in increasing numbers  to wander the town’s blue-washed Medina, surely the prettiest in the  country.
> ...



Chefchaouen | Tangier, Tetouan and the northwest Guide | Rough Guides

I'll find a decent article explaining the history of the surrounding Rif region when I get chance, explaining the reason why the cannabis cultivation came into prominence and is tolerated particularly in this region, it's quite an interesting tale.  :Wink:

----------


## BaitongBoy

Cheers...

----------


## patsycat

Wonderful.

Those kitties are exactly the same colours as my last batch.  We, here are grass smokers.  But that stuff from there is lethal.  I get the munchies and then sort of do a swan death falling over out of my box thingy.

To pop up ten minutes later.

Shit i wish i could have been your shadow...

I'm sorry, i stole the picture of the kittens to send to my sister.  Saturna and Jimmijoe re-incarnated-

----------


## BaitongBoy

^Steady on, patsygirl...Heh...

----------


## beerlaodrinker

Cracking thread khmer, Pity about that coont Chris cock blocking you with the Singaporean chicks

----------


## Latindancer

They're lovely shades of blue. It’s believed that many years ago, the paint  dye was extracted from a small shellfish and the color it produced was close to indigo.

I wonder where they get the blue colourant from these days ?

----------


## Black Heart

Nice photos. Makes me curious about Morrocco.

----------


## Dan

Thanks for the memories. 2004 was my only trip there, spending a month in Marrakesh and then to agadir. Lots of prossers in the Irish bar there if memory serves me correctly. 

Was pretty much beer, weed and young women for those two weeks.

----------


## terry57

Great thread mate, Jesus, I'd love to get into some of that Hash.

Ain't had Hash for years.

----------


## patsycat

Does anyone remember opium oil, you sort of painted it on cigarettes?

We get hashish here, but i am sure it is not of the same caliber as on site stuff.

I can't roll a joint to save my life - i need male minions to do that task.  I did have one of those cigarette rolling machines once and managed to break it...

I do have a hash pipe.  but even that, i undid it to clean it and couldn't get it back together properly.

And to think my father was an Engineer...

----------


## BaitongBoy

> i need male minions to do that task


Heh...

----------


## Dillinger

> I started to realise that, despite his use of cannabis, Chris wasn't exactly street smart, a bit naive almost.


you mean like....stoned ?? :Confused:  :Smile: 





> Chris, who works in finance, then began to bore them silly by talking shop thinking that would impress them. I could see their eyes glaze over almost instantly, thinking "boring [at][at][at][at]". I was beginning to dislike Chris.


So why didn't you charm one of these birds yourself ? I will tell you why, because dope is one of the most unsocial drugs there is and all that mind numbing Stoner shit is good for is to bring you down off E's and coke.

nice thread BTW :Smile:

----------


## khmen

The rest of the day was spent between ambling about the old town and relaxing at my hotel, but as the afternoon drew onward I developed a hankering for a hair of the dog.

As I've already mentioned places from which to buy alcohol are somewhat limited in Chefchaouen, and I didn't really fancy going to the hotel bar where I'd spent New Years. There is a big hotel on a mountain overlooking Chefchaouen which I'd heard had a bar so I decided to take a stroll up there to catch the sunset. 

This would involve walking all the way to the top of the medina, out of one of the gates in the northern edge of the old city wall, and walking up a bit of the mountain to get to the Hotel Atlas. I thought the walk would do me good so off I set and soon, after much walking up steep steps and slopes, I came to one of the old gates out of the old town:



After I'd gone through the gate I walked up the mountainside on a handy concreted path for a few minutes, and soon realised I'd got my timings wrong for viewing the sunset from the bar. The sun was already well in the process of setting and soon it'd be dark, but it made for some nice photos of the mountains tinged in their sunset shade of pink, with the moon hanging in the sky above.

In this shot you can see the gate I'd just walked through in the bottom right corner:


View back toward town featuring one of the old gatehouses:


Panoramic view of the same:


View from further up the mountain after I'd left the concreted path:


Finally, after far more exertion than I'd expected, I arrived at the hotel bar. This place was even deader than the place in town, two locals propping up the bar and a bar man with no other customers in sight whatsoever. I ordered two beers and went to sit on the terrace overlooking town. The beer tasted good after hiking all the fucking way up here to get it!  :Very Happy: 



View from the terrace over town:


So I sat outside until the lights of the town came on and the sun slipped behind the opposite mountains listening to the sounds of the town below drifting up to me, draining four beers in the process:





After which I went inside to drink another couple in the dullest bar imaginable, made worse by the shit French football game on the telly, and it was time to make my way back down the mountainside in the dark:



Not the most exciting evening ever, but at least the hair of the dog had done the job and I felt much better for it! The rest of the evening was spent at my hotel reading and relaxing, ready for a proper walk up into the mountains I had planned for the next day. Will upload pics of it when I get chance.

----------


## khmen

> Those kitties are exactly the same colours as my last  batch. We, here are grass smokers. But that stuff from there is lethal. I  get the munchies and then sort of do a swan death falling over out of  my box thingy.  To pop up ten minutes later.  Shit i wish i could have been your shadow...  I'm sorry, i stole the picture of the kittens to send to my sister.  Saturna and Jimmijoe re-incarnated-


Hehe, yeah it can be quite strong, especially when it comes direct from the source - I'll mention scoring some top grade direct from source up in the hills in my next post. 

No probs re the kitty pics, share away. Some more cat and kitten pics coming up in later posts, there are cats absolutely everywhere in Morocco, you'd love it!  :Wink: 




> Cracking thread khmer, Pity about that coont Chris cock blocking you with the Singaporean chicks


Cheers. Haha, tbh mate they seemed a bit too much like hard work for me anyway! Classy, beautiful, but didn't they just know it! 




> I'd love to get into some of that Hash.  Ain't had Hash for years.


Yeah it's some top quality stuff up in the hills, I've seen Moroccan in Europe on many an occassion but nothing to match the stuff I came across in the production region.  :Wink: 




> Does anyone remember opium oil, you sort of painted it on cigarettes?  We get hashish here, but i am sure it is not of the same caliber as on site stuff.


Are you sure it was opium oil Pats? I used to get proper Moroccan/Indian hash oil back in the day, it was a dark black/brownish liquid that was spread on ciggarettes or papers, strong as fuck gear. It's made by washing the buds with ethanol, filtering it and evaporating the alcohol. Easy enough to do, made some myself once.  :Very Happy: 




> you mean like....stoned ??


No, I mean like not very streetwise, from a bit of a sheltered background, not "down wit da streetz" to use the lingo kids these days may or may not use!  :Wink: 




> So why didn't you charm one of these birds yourself ? I will tell you why, because dope is one of the most unsocial drugs there is and all that mind numbing Stoner shit is good for is to bring you down off E's and coke.


As I said in reply to BLD, they seemed like too much hard work, like I'd have to put a load of effort in in the vague hope of a ride. I don't fuck about with women like that these days - if they ain't showing much initial interest I certainly ain't going to be chasing after them. If the pussy is going to come to me, it comes to me. If it doesn't, I've always got my ever faithful right hand to sort myself out!  :Very Happy: 

Agree with you that cannabis can be quite an unsocial drug, I've got a friend who smokes it all day long and he's an anti-social vegetable. It's like anything though, everything in its place and everything in moderation and it's all good. 

 I use it at home on occasion to relax after a hard days work or to help me go to sleep, but will never use it in a social situation as it makes me awkward, or if I've got shit that needs to be done as it makes me lazy. Didn't have owt to do with why I didn't wire into the Singer gals.  :Smile:  

Weed/Hash is shit for trying to come down off class A stimulants, it barely touches the sides - for that you'll be wanting some form of benzodiazepines or opiates.  :Wink: 




> nice thread BTW


Cheers.  :Very Happy:

----------


## khmen

The next morning I awoke relatively early with a vague plan to take a wander up into them thar hills. The plan was to go and walk up to and check out the view from the Spanish Mosque, the small white building on the hill slightly to the right of centre in this shot...



...and from there to potentially follow some trails further up to the mountains, depending on how arduous the walk was. As far as I can gather the Spanish Mosque was, as the name suggests, built by the Spanish but was never actually used as a place as worship. Now it mainly serves as a viewpoint and a landmark above town which marks the start of several walking trails into the Rif.

So off I set with no idea as to how to actually get to it, I knew that many people go there for the view at sunset but didn't know where the path was. I meandered downhill from my hotel toward it and crossed a bridge over a small river:



I then began walking uphill where I came across a road from where I could see a few rough trails heading further up the hill. I stopped to take a few shots back toward town:







I then crossed the road and began to walk up one of the trails leading up the hill. A shot looking back toward the old town:


A shot looking up toward the Spanish Mosque where I was heading:


It wasn't long after this that I realised I was actually walking through a graveyard, the entire hillside around me was dotted with blue and white painted graves:


Not being very au fait with the protocol of being a non-Muslim strolling around the graves of their ancestors I felt a bit uncomfortable to be honest, wondering if I might have inadvertently blundered into making some social faux pas. I passed a few locals as I progressed along the trails and they greeted me as they passed so I suppose they can't be that bothered about it.

Views as I progressed up the hill:








It was about this stage that I began to feel the strain on my legs a bit, and coming to the foot of a very steep, loose and rocky rocky slope I decided to sit down in the shade of a tree for a few minutes. "Fuck me", I thought, "Surely all the people who come up here for sunset don't scramble up these bloody slopes and down again in the dark? There's gotta be an easier way!"

After a few more minutes I decided to tackle the rocky slope above me in my completely unsuitable footwear, this is the view from about halfway up back toward the tree I sat beneath, slightly left of centre:


And this is the view upward of where I still had to scramble:


After nearly going arse over tit a couple of times I finally made it to the top, I'd actually got quite a sweat on. Fucking healthy activities will be the death of me one of these days I swear!  :Very Happy: 

View back down the rocky slope I'd just come up:


Views looking back toward the old town, you can see the graveyard bottom centre of the shot:


The Hotel Atlas where I'd had a beer the previous evening can be seen on the hill above town, the big white building:






Continued shortly...

----------


## BaitongBoy

Welcome back, khmen...Nice little trek, that...A real power course...And the cold beer and smoke afterwards...

----------


## khmen

*For reasons which will become apparent, no photos were taken during the course of events in this post*

After I'd taken a few shots I decided to go and sit in the shade provided by the Spanish Mosque to catch my breath and take in the view. I sat down next to a young local lad who I noticed was rolling a joint. He smiled and said "Bonjour monsieur, something something something" in French. I told him I didn't understand and apologised for my poor French - "Desole, mon Francais est terrible!"

He laughed and asked where I was from, I told him England and he said in English "Haha no problem, I said you look very tired!" I told him I'd just scrambled up the side of the mountain and pointed the way I'd come up, he said "Why didn't you walk the easy way?" pointing out a nice easy looking path back toward town on the opposite side of the hill. "Haha, I didn't know how to get up here so just walked up the first path I came to!" 

He offered me a puff of his joint which I gladly accepted after the climb and introduced himself as Otman, a student in Chefchaouen from a nearby Riffian town called Ouezzane. We sat there chatting for a while until the joint had been smoked and I began to take a liking to him, he seemed like a genuinely nice young lad. 

The conversation turned to all sorts, how I found Morocco/where I'd been, English football, my hometown in the UK, what he was studying and what he planned to do on completion of his studies, Moroccan culture, Islam in Morocco, the hashish scene in the Rif. He told me he often walked up into the hills from town to smoke in peace, to ponder and to contemplate things while taking in the scenery. "Up here", he said, "it's peaceful, it's quiet, I can relax and think about things alone, you know?". Surveying the scene before me, and feeling the calming effect of the hashish, I knew precisely what he meant.

Some local men had been hanging about and had seen us smoking the joint, and it wasn't long before one approached Otman to ask if I'd like to buy some. I knew from previous reading that when one walks further on from the Spanish Mosque one starts to encounter people who can provide the prime fruits of the Moroccan harvest...unlike the pushy touts in town the guy didn't seem too dodgy so I thought I'd just roll with the situation. I'd deliberately only brought a small amount of cash with me just in case.  :Wink: 

I'd spoken to Chris previously about how much he had been paying for his hash and he'd told me between 3-400 dirhams (30-40 Euro) for 10 grams of OK, but not primo quality, hash. I'd immediately told him that he'd been ripped off, which he sort of acknowledged. I'd told him that to get the best at a good price you'd have to wander up into the mountains where it's all going on. This was part of the reason I'd taken a stroll up here.

Anyway, I decided to accompany the guy further up into the mountains to sort out a wee bit of smoke for myself, and Otman said he'd accompany me to translate. So, off we wandered further up the mountains for around ten to fifteen minutes where we came to a cluster of trees with protruding buttress roots where me and Otman sat while the guy disappeared into a house nearby. 

He emerged from the house and sat next to us, where he proceeded to pull out a cricket ball sized ball of very light, loosely pressed, lovely blond hash. He explained that he had made this himself, and pointed out some bare tilled soil, where he said he grew his plants during the season. He put a lighter to it and it immediately began to melt, a very good sign of purity, and held it to my nose to smell. It smelled divine, rich and fruity, better than any of the hash I'd seen in town thus far. I knew he wasn't trying to sell me sub-par gear from that point on.

I smiled and he proceeded to roll a joint for me to try, after a few pulls I knew this was about as good as it gets for Moroccan hash. Then, it was down to business and he pulled out a bag filled with cellophane wraps in 5 and 10 gram weights. Aware of the old bait and switch tactic I opened a couple to inspect and sure enough it was all of a similar high quality. 

I inquired as to the price and after a few words with Otman he said it would be 100 dirham for 5 gram, or 200 for 10. I didn't quibble, remembering what Chris had been paying for lesser smoke, and I'd just scored my first bit of Moroccan hash, handing over 200 dirham for 10 grams.

After finishing the tester joint I felt didtinctly light headed, but the dealer said through Otman that he wanted to show me something. He led us to a shed near to his house and upon opening the door I was greeted with a powerful scent of cannabis. Stacked in the corner was a big pile of raw unprocessed cannabis plants, in the middle was a bucket fitted with a fine mesh screen, and in the opposite corner were some plastic ziplock sacks filled with loose unpressed hashish powder.

He explained that he was still working his way through the processing of his previous years crop, and would I like to see how he made it? Of course I did I told him.  :Very Happy: 

He placed a fairly large quantity of the cannabis bud onto the silkscreen mesh on top of the bucket and using a rubber band attatched a thick sheet of plastic loosely over the top. He picked up a couple of sticks and proceeded to beat the material through the plastic in a rhythmic fashion. He smiled and said something which Otman translated as "Moroccan hash making music".

After a short while he removed the plastic, swept the beaten bud onto it and removed the silkscreen mesh. In the bucket he had collected a nice quantity of loose golden hashish powder, which he then wrapped in a small piece of cellophane and began to vigorously rub on his leg. After a couple of minutes he undid the cellophane to reveal another piece of the soft pressed golden hashish he'd sold me. He grinned, broke off a piece of it and gave it to me for free. 

He informed me that if I wished I could buy the bud by the kilo, I forget the price but it was pennies, and process my own. As I'd just bought some I didn't really need any more so declined, but said I'd bear it in mind but may just take him up on it at some point, if only for the experience.  :Very Happy:  He said that'd be o problem and that he was always around and about this area should I wish to do it at some point. With that, we shook hands and me and Otman left to walk back toward the Spanish Mosque.

As we walked, Otman said "Khmen, I have something for you" and held out his hand. In it was some money, 100 dirhams to be precise. I was confused, and asked him what it was for. He said "Moroccan people pay a lot cheaper, and he made you pay too much. When he spoke to me before he said that he'd give me 100 dirhams for me getting him a foreign customer. I don't like it, I don't want to keep it."

I told him I appreciated his honesty, but that for his honesty he could keep the 100 dirhams. Paraphrased: "No." he said, "You don't understand. You see, I am a Muslim, I believe in my prophet and my God, I cannot accept this money because of my religion. Some Moroccan people, they say they are Muslim, but they don't act like good Muslims. They should not make tourists pay more, it is not good. For me, I am Muslim, you are not, I am Moroccan, you are not, but we are equal. I believe in equality, and I don't like people who do things like this to tourists. They are not good Muslim people, they are not good Moroccan people, so this money is yours, not mine to keep."

It blew my mind to be honest, to be given money back from an illicit drug deal when I'd been perfectly happy with what I'd paid...I thought there must be some ulterior motive to Otmans apparent selfnessness, but no, when we got back to the Mosque after another brief chat he gave me his phone number in case I needed anything while in town, told me he had to go to college shortly, shook my hand and said his goodbyes. I thanked him profusely for his honesty as he left which he just dismissed with a smile and a "Welcome to Morocco my friend, enjoy my country and the rest of your holiday", touched his hand to his heart in the Arab manner when expressing genuineness, and with that he was gone...leaving me with a lot to ponder about the nature of the country and the culture I was visiting.

So, that was my first score of Hashish in Morocco, and what an experience it had been!  :Very Happy:  

Next update will feature my stoned hike back down the mountain and a trip to a waterfall, will upload when time permits.

For those interested in the hashish farming and production in Morocco here's an excellent documentary on the subject. Skip to 25 minutes to see the hash making process described above :

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## khmen

> Welcome back, khmen...Nice little trek, that...A real power course...And the cold beer and smoke afterwards...


Cheers mate, I haven't abandoned the thread but as I said in the OP life is very hectic at the minute so finding time to upload pics etc is quite hard! It'll get finished but it's just going to take a while, thanks for sticking with it!  :Very Happy:

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## BaitongBoy

A well-written account of your travels, khmen...Was this just after New Year, in early January?...

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## khmen

Yes mate, I landed in Morocco on the 29th December and left 13th January.

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## BaitongBoy

^Thanks, I remember you bringing in the New Year, and it reads like we're walking right in your footsteps...a couple of months later, however...

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## khmen

So, what comes up must come down. After a while sitting there enjoying the view and my buzz I decided to take a stoned stroll back down the mountain the easy way, the plan to head further up into the hills abandoned for some inexplicable reason.  :Wink: 

 It was a lot less strenuous on the way back put it that way, I just sort of floated down the mountain.  :Very Happy: 

Views on the way back down:












Fucking ugly wire, I'll have to edit that out at some point as I quite like this shot aside from that!






Not long after I took this I saw a western woman and a guide emerge from this crevasses and scramble down the hill. Fuck knows where they'd been or what's up there but I wasn't in the mood to find out, looked far too strenuous and precarious for my liking!:






I arrived at the bottom of the mountain where I came back to the river/small series of waterfalls I'd crossed earlier:



 I sat at a cafe overlooking the river for a while and had a drink while the effects of the hash wore off, then decided to take a stroll along the river...













....continued soon.  :Very Happy:  (I'm aware this thread is the slowest progressing thread ever but hey ho, I'm a busy guy and I'll get there in the end!  :Very Happy: )

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## BaitongBoy

Cheers...

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## grasshopper

Bloody good stuff! The story, I mean.

The hash? I dunno but will take your learned opinion on it.

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## billy the kid

great thread Khmen.
used to rent a house in Chefchaouen in the early 70's for £5 a month with a flat roof to gaze from. on our first day the chief of police came to visit, we saw him from the roof
standing knocking at the door. we hid all the weed and sipsies and let him in.
he introduced himself in a very polite way and asked if we had a some keef, weed.
we said no no,no have. Ah he says wait, i come back.
Sure enough he came back with the pipe and weed and we all smoked the peace pipe. usually stayed 3 months of the year and then back to work for 9 months.
named a mountain there Caramello mountain which we sometimes climbed for the views and the craic. absolutely wonderful place; the people, food,weed,wine and nitelife. just could not fault it then, it was the best. oh yea the oily hashish, splendid.

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## halen

> Marrakech is known as Morocco's "Red City", due to the predominant colour of the old city walls ranging from ochre-rose to a deep red - you can see why in this shot:
> 
> 
> I see an arch at the end of a street...
> 
> 
> And as I approach I see a perfect photo opportunity, such a beautiful light. A better photographer than myself would probably have done it more justice but I'm still happy with the result:
> 
> 
> ...


Yeah You must give it a try. It is the must to see market street of Morocco and major attraction for tourists and had a quite big effect at Moroccan's life. Morocco is a great place and where ever you are in Morocco each town having different souk quarters.

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## PeeCoffee

Khmen, sounds like you were enraptured. All well and fine.

Quick question - if someone decides to stitch you up (which happens from time-to-time to naive travelers) what's the worse you could get for possession of hashish ...ten years ?

I'd be gutted to say the least.

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## alwarner

Brilliant thread.

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## halen

Yeah i would say through reading that thread i got really interested and massive details about that region's attractions and places to see. fishlocker! I am also a travel freak and also glad to see your thoughts as the spirit you have to live your life. I am also a travel freak and had a dream to explore World's all beautiful destinations.

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## khmen

I really must finish this thread...I think I got a bit bored with it tbh haha! Think I shall just throw up the rest of my pics with minimal commentary

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## BaitongBoy

Well, this is a blast from the past, albeit not too long ago...

Welcome back, khmen...

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