Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Travel Log, June 17-18, 2009


[Written June 18th]

OMG. We made it to the Tanger Aeroport with over six hours to spare. We are cutting it close. We are grease balls. We are delirious. We are fabu.

Yesterday, back at F's, we napped. Tried. It was too muggy. She fed us a hugely large meal of...french fries, meatballs with fried egg on top, harira, two veggie salad dishes, chobbes chobbes chobbes and orange juice. Could NOT eat all. I do however love Moroccan orange juice. WEIRD.

Then, we showered and tried to nap until 12:45am. I woke up with sharp stomach pains at some point, and have had issues all day since. Sigh.

At about 1 am, we kissed K goodbye (congrats on acing HS exams!), and F and a male friend walked us up to Hotel Batha. One the way, a cab passed us--F waved him down, kissed us goodbye, and loaded us up into the petit taxi. He drove us through the empty Ville Nouvelle streets, empty excpt for the occasional man or group of stray dogs. It reminded me eerily of "I AM LEGEND"...

Got to Fes Gare around 1:10am, purchased two first class tickets to Tanger on the 2:10am train, ordered Magnums, and consumed the huge ice cream bars at 1:30am in a smokey train station while sitting on a curb, and being, once again, ogled by twenty Moroccan males. I was not wearing contacts, even, and wearing the same clothes I have for 2.5 weeks! What is wrong with you people?! I am a bit tired of being so *over-appreciated*.
Magnums at 1:30am, Fes train station!

Around 2 am, we found the train. In our tired and confused in general state, we got on the 2nd class part of the train, and spent a long while walking up the train, fighting to get our luggage and selves through the narrow aisles without killing anyone or touching them too intensely. It was still depressingly muggy at 2am. We were about to freak out, when two men told us to get off, pointed us to our car and compartment, and settled us in. SOMETIMES, men are FAB!!

Men continued their fabu-ness when the conductor returned with a Spanish-speaking dude headed for Tanger, and instructed him to help us transfer at Sidi Kacem in about 1.5 hours. Rashid the Spanish-speaking Dude spoke Spanish at us for what seemed like forever. We really understood it all, but couldn't respond well. He went off on how Americans don't know geography or history, but we are good at science. Thanks?! At least I could say that I speak German. HA. A language you don't speak, punkface. Two older men joined our comp, also headed for Tanger.

At Sidi Kacem, they had us follow them to the correct track and eventually, the correct train. A conductor settled us immediately (no walking through 2nd class for us!) in our compartment with an older man who spoke some English and a sleeping man who crowded my arm rest. The train was STUFFY. Now, it was about 4am. The train sat. And sat. And sat some more. I was so uncomfortable that I got up to find air. The open door was blocked by hordes of men. I hate men in hordes. Other end. Locked door, but cracked window! A man and his little son joined me. They were nice and smiled. I promise, men don't ALL stink. I went back and iPoded for a while until finally the train started. A whole hour later. Whew. The rest of the ride was uneventful, even though I couldn't sleep. Oh well. It cooled down at least!

At Sidi Kacem, a bit loopy:
Transferring at Sidi Kacem!
She looks so peaceful:
Beth finally gets some good sleep in, as the sun rises over Morocco.

We disembarked around 8am at the main Tanger station. A taxi driver took us over, and drove us to the airport. We had 166 Dh left. It cost 150Dh. Sweet. I took out more Dh so we could buy coffee and sustenance.

We have been sitting in one of the two airport cafes, drinking cafe au lait by the gallon and eating yogurt, since about 8:30am. It's 11:20am now. Our flight leaves at 2:30pm. Sigh. At least we are HERE!

Can you really understand how happy we are to be in the Tanger airport?
You have no idea how happy we are to be in the Tanger airport.

Tired of Arabic/French speaking men laughing at us.

Getting out of Morocco: significantly easier than getting in. Through passport control and security--no mo run-ins with MoPo! Enshallah, that is.

Last Morocco picture!!! EasyJet, let us on board! We love you, Morocco, so much, but take us back to the West, please!
We cannot wait to get on EasyJet and get over to Spain.

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