Moving Forward...

Casablanca’s Hassan II mosque is the third-largest in the world, right after Mecca and Medina. Finished in 1993 to celebrate the 60th birthday of Hassan II, it’s quite a sight.

With millions of inhabitants and a busy port, business is what Casa’s all about. Millions more in the slums around feel rather left out.

Bar/dance joint, with nice vibes. The beer is cold and when musicians from upstairs join in with their saxophones and drums to jam on the rhythm of the beat for the sheer fun of it, the night’s just perfect.

The penny dropped when I altered my behaviour 180 degrees. Before I would evade or ignore the ‘touts’, ‘guides’ and salesmen. But they are Maroccans, too. I embrace them now, see their perspective. And also these Maroccans turn out to be so incredibly nice. While chatting with a old local waiter, I take the menu out of his hands and walk to the street luring in passing tourists. With my looks (European that is ) and English I bring in a couple straight away. The waiter can’t believe his eyes, insists I stay at his house and greets me exuberantly whenever we meet afterwards. At the potteries of Fes, without buying anything I chat with a dozen workers who all happily show me the intricacies of their work (and give me a tile when their boss is not looking ). They love chatting about soccer and don’t want me to leave. A taxidriver nearly breaks into tears when telling me his Dutch friends bought him a cassette-recorder 10 years ago, and insists I take his phonenumber and stay with him next time I’m in Fes. The list of meetings like this goes on and on. If you show some respect and interest, their friendliness is truly surprising. It’s hard to capture their friendliness in examples, but I hope this gives you some idea.

Are you that talented teamplayer who ‘gets the job done’ with a ‘can-do’ mentality? If yes, board a plane for Fes ’cause they got just the right job for you.

The medina of Fes is the largest in the world. Nothing can prepare you for it. You’re bound to get lost, you’re bound to get hassled, you’re bound to see chickens’ throats being slit. Relax, it’s all part of the fun. The building with the green-tiled roof is the Kairaouine mosque.

The tanneries: creating leather out of skins. Here, they are still making things.

Horses on the graveyard of Fes. Naturally.

You throw rubbish on the floor. The poorest and the cats will take it from there.

A mosque? A palace? No, the view from my room. And it was a bargain, too.

The city ends rather abruptly.

Actually, not that much display of the flag in Marocco.

“Can you keep these seats free for me and my father?”, she asks inbetween two songs. I’m equally struck by her brown eyes as her perfect English. I just boarded the train to Meknes with very loud arabic disco music all around. I quickly decided to look for guy with the ghettoblaster to make sure I would not end up in that coupe. The beats turn out to come from the train-speakers – so they are present in every coupe. After she returns with her father an elderly woman sits next to me. She picks up her Qu’ran and starts reading aloud with intensity, right through the beats who happily keep on pumping through the speakers. Apparently this is not nearly enough for the girl and her father – she gets her mp3-player and they share a headphone (Qu’ran music, I learn later). All sources of sound show no sign of giving up, with my sympathy going out to the old woman. Welcome to Marocco! It’s only four hours to Meknes.

You’ll remember your first walk in a Maroccan medina for sure… Tiny stores packed with goods as high as the laws of physics allow, other people selling very few goods on the ground in front of the stores, faux guides and touts trying to lure you into their store or hotel (or that of their ‘brother’ nearby, sure) and beggars with the most horrible medical conditions. Welcome in the medina!

The elderly have seen it all.

Beauty is certainly not about spotlessness. These colors are excellent.

Petit taxis are blue here . There are countless of them.

Boat entering the port of Tanger, Marocco. Don’t forget to adjust your watches: back 2 hours…

Cordoba has nice green parks. And the Spanish sun.

The Mezquita is vast mosque (once 2nd in size in the world), built and expanded constantly under Islamic power, yet also feels restrained – still serving. Very beautiful. The mihrab, the endless arches and the cedar ceilings are all stunning. In the Renaissance, understandable at the time yet rather regrettable now, a cathedral was built in the middle (!) of the Mezquita. I was here early in the morning and had virtually the whole Mezquita to myself for half a hour – that was great.

Broken, yet happy to have arrived.

Granada is blessed with loads of history, young people, fantastic food and nightlife-till-morning. Spain at its best. I did a language course for 2 weeks and stayed with a great partying crowd at the student-residence. This was just perfect.

Absolutely mental people with whom it has been ‘kapotleuk’

‘Botallon fiesta’ means: BYOB and dump trash on the floor. No music, just serious drinking…

Laura@botallon

Sigh.

Alhambra beauty.

Visiting Alhambra with Kimmy.

Returning from the disco, you’re greeted by the weatherforecast.

April Fools Day : while friends were at the disco, we completely restored their room to the original setting and packed their clothes… we had to explain the joke to the headmaster the next day, though

Camborio discoteca: you can actually view the Alhambra from the dancefloor.

If I could only take it with me!

A chupeteria is quite a Spanish experience… a bar full of people slammin’ shots. You can just shout the number you’d like to have – shots are eur 1,-. Nothing is mixed with soda or juices, just shots of pure liquor. Everyone is tipsy… at best.

What a background for a city.

Only 1 hour from the heat in Granada – would you believe that?

I haven’t skiied in years… why???

It was great advice to pack my iPod. Thanks

A compromise between honesty and lies
To lead me past, their sly disguise
My moves are slow but soon they’ll know
Behind the scenes they grow their schemes
Hiding intentions, revealing only fractions
- Jose Gonzales