We rode a train to Tangier on Thursday night. I’m sure Tangier has a lot to offer during daylight hours. However, my only impression is based on when we stepped off the train at 10pm, and I beg to differ. We were trying to connect to wifi in the empty and under construction train station to contact our AirBnb and get the keys when all of the lights in the station went out. An eerie start to an eerie night. Finally, we just had a taxi take us to the general area of the apartment and hoped for the best. The taxi driver was kind enough to even use his phone to call the owner and get us the keys.
My one night in Tangier was the closest thing to poor college student in a poor country kind of experience I have had since arriving in Morocco. First, when we got to the apartment building, two of the girls stayed behind in the sketchy convenience store on the corner because we did not want to pay for 7 people to stay in our 6-person AirBnb. The man who led us upstairs was very rude and tried to charge us for random stuff. He got 5 euros out of us for a taxi because at that point we just wanted him to leave. Someone called him from outside and told him there were 7 of us, but he didn’t speak English well so, the terrible people that we are, we just tried to make it sound like we didn’t understand him when he accused us of having seven people. Prayers he doesn't bill us a ridiculous amount for that one.
Once he finally left, we felt a little (or a lot) on edge. We went to the convenience store to get dinner (because there was nothing open anywhere near us). We bought some Moroccan version of Chicken Curry flavored Ramen. The best 40 cents spent thus far because I was starving. Of course the apartment didn’t have normal plates or bowls, so we got creative and ate out of saucepans and tea kettles (which of course were in excess because Moroccans love tea). After being made very uncomfortable by every interaction in Tangier, we attempted to stop the door with chairs, but they were all too short. We gave up and just hoped the locks were strong enough. We all slowly took showers and went to sleep.
We had planned on taking the 8am ferry, so we arrived at the port around 6:50am because the websites said we had to purchase the tickets at least an hour before departure. But in typical Moroccan style, we were ushered into the company whose ferry leaves at 7am, all bought our tickets, went through border control, and made onto the ferry in order for it to leave promptly at 7:45, just 45 minutes after the posted departure time. Typical Moroccan time.
The ferry boat was very fun, despite not being able to walk in a straight line or being able to stand without spilling my coffee. I love boats. It lasted only 45 minutes to get from Morocco to Spain. We stepped off the ferry, went through more border control, and then officially took our first steps in Spain.
We went to an ATM in order to get euros, and then asked a local in the street where to get the best breakfast. He pointed us to the café where we met Oscar (previous post) and enjoyed delicious breakfast. I had said that I was going to avoid bread in Spain since that was all I had eaten in Morocco, yet each meal consisted of either bread or pasta. Maybe someday I’ll be able to afford to not live on carbs.
The pasta sauce ended up tasting more like salsa, so I sautéed the onions, garlic, oregano, and pepper in olive oil before adding the sauce. It managed to make the sauce at least taste like spaghetti sauce. Meanwhile, Anthony filleted a fish from Oscar and prepped it for cooking. We served dinner, and everyone was super excited about the home cooked food (partially for the taste, partially for the cheap price tag). After dinner, we enjoyed a few beverages before checking out the Spanish bar scene. The “bar scene” consisted of an alleyway of pubs that come to life after midnight. There is apparently no open container law because bars served drinks in glasses, then everyone would wander the streets holding said glasses. It was cool to see all of the Spanish in their bar lifestyle, but everyone seemed to be around 30+ years old. We must have missed the discotheque memo.
The next morning we woke up, enjoyed another bread-filled breakfast, and then hit the beach. The beaches are apparently topless beaches so I do not have many photos. There were awesome rocks that no one else climbed on, but we survived so everyone else is just missing out. At one point, a man came to the beach with a cart and began ringing a bell. We had no idea what he was doing so Lydia and I walked over to discover he was selling donuts! We bought several because we obviously had to try every type. We also walked along a pier by the beaches that led to an old military structure, but it was closed so we just saw cool views of the beach.
There was this huge beach that had perfect views of the sunset with mountains in the background, but no one else was there. As soon as the sun began to set, we realized why. Sand fleas. They are these strange white jumping bugs that are super annoying and also will bite you if you stand still. We ran for the water and watched the sunset with our toes in the lapping ocean water. Perfection.
We were up much earlier than the rest of town and came across an empty restaurant so we sat down to see if it was open. A man comes up and asks us what we wanted- no menus, no directions, just whatever we wanted. We asked if they had eggs, and he had to go check if the chef was there to make them for us. We ordered eggs with toast, bacon, and tomato, and it was another delicious Spanish breakfast. Additionally, I don’t know what they do to make their coffees so great, but I think I could drink four Spanish café con leche every morning and my life would be complete.
We got one last beer together (don’t worry mom and dad, only because it is cheaper than the water so we were just being fiscally responsible), and caught the next ferry to Tangier. We got weird stares on the ferry for being in shorts and changed back into pants before stepping foot in Tangier. Welcome back to Morocco. We sat on a train for over an hour before it finally left for Rabat. We were in a car with a super cool Moroccan girl who now lives in Spain and is engaged to a Spanish man. We spoke for a while, but slowly everyone started to fall asleep. For the first time in my 21 and a half years of life, a moving vehicle (the train) did not put me to sleep. I had to find other entertainment, so I read my book and prepared for my fourth week in home sweet home, Rabat.