The Soundtrack; Morocco

 

The first obnoxious earworm was Graham Nash’s Marrakech Express: 

Take the train from Casablanca going south
Blowing smoke rings from the corners of my mouth my mouth, my mouth
Colored cottons hang in the air
Charming cobras in the square
Striped jallabas we can wear at home
Well, let me hear ya now

Would you know we're riding on the Marrakesh Express?
Would you know we're riding on the Marrakesh Express?
They're taking me to Marrakesh

Snake Charmer, Marrakech Souk

We jumped right in, under the haze of jet lag. Essentially the first thing we saw was the Souk (Market) and one of its snake charmers.  Ismael, our guide, gave him a tip on our behalf as we took pictures. 

 

Herbals, Marrakech Souk

There are colors and the enticing odor of spices everywhere.  I’ve been to several international street markets, and this is the first one that smells good. 

 

Friendly Chef, Marrakech Souk

Street portraits here and in the Medina (old city) are difficult, as most folks either don’t want their photos taken, or demand cash.  I don’t mind paying, but the aggression is intimidating, and the best street portraits are more candid than posed.  In the end, with 12 days to try, I ended up with a few portraits I’m happy with.

We had our first of many Moroccan teas that day.  The tea is served with mint and sugar in a small tumbler. The joke is that Moroccans like some tea with their sugar.

On the road we passed through Ouarzazate, a surreal desert outpost with movie studios and businesses to support them.  "Ouallywood" movie studios have built quite a resume providing convincing backdrops for movies supposedly set in Tibet, ancient Rome, Somalia and Egypt. You might recognize it from Lawrence of Arabia, The Man Who Would Be King, The Mummy, and Gladiator.  The liquor section in the huge grocery was gargantuan.

 

Kasbahs, old and new, Skoura

Next stop was among the ruins of and restored Kasbahs (fortresses) in Skoura.  We stayed in one of the former, with lovely grounds and opportunities for shooting from the roof.

Berber weaver, Tinghir

On the road we stopped at a Berber rug store in Tinghir, met some lovely folks, and shopped.  At this writing, we’re waiting for the rug we had shipped to arrive.

Dromedary Train, Erb Chebbi

The Dunes were not exactly what I had expected.  I’m accustomed to having little or no company at our dunes in the American Southwest.  The Erg Chebbi at the edge of the Sahara is not that.  There are hotels and encampments, and many, many dromedaries (one hump) and the sand is rife with tracks of them, people, and vehicles.  Our silver lining, sort of, was a windstorm on our second day.  In the morning the tracks were covered.

Delicious sunset light, Erg Chebbi

The blowing sand made for astonishing light as well, and I was so pleased to have something landscape-y to shoot.  I felt back in my element.

Marco in out glamping tent, Erg Chebbi

Lest I complain too much, we had our first glamping experience.  Our tent had electricity and hot & cold running water.  We were astonished that the blowing sand didn’t penetrate.

Hassan, Erg Chebbi

One of my favorite portraits, admittedly not candid, was of our driver Hassan.  He’s 29, wants to be in the movies, and has eyelashes for miles.  He was very gracious about posing.

Here’s earworm number two:

Midnight at the oasis
Send your camel to bed
Shadows painting our faces
Traces of romance in our heads
Heaven's holding a half moon
Shining just for us
Let's slip off to
A sand dune, real soon
And kick up a little dust

 

On the road we saw macaques in the forest as we crossed the Middle Atlas Mountains.

Locals negotiating the Medina in Fes

Fes is distinct in visuals and flavors. I have a pretty good sense of direction, but I’m sure our guide was correct – I could easily have gotten lost in its narrow, meandering alleys.  I was grateful for his help.  I was also grateful that, unlike Marrakech, motorbikes are not allowed, which was much less harrowing.

Chouara Tannery, Fes

The Chouara Tannery in Fes has likely been operating in the same way since the 9th century. I expect it smelled as bad then, too. Shopkeepers hand out fresh mint to hold under your nose. It’s a big help.

 

Riad Myrna, Fes

Mosaics are everywhere and the food somehow manages to be both lavish and subtly seasoned. Our Riad was incredible, with mosaic art and a retractable roof.

The name of the city has nothing to do with the hat, but I couldn’t escape earworm number 3:

No I'm never gonna do it without the fez on Oh no
No I'm never gonna do it without the fez on Oh no
That's what I am
Please understand
I wanna be your holy man

Mosaic (zellige) Artist at Naji, Fes

Speaking of mosaics, our highlight on the road was Naji Pottery, where we learned about the process of constructing the art.  Incredibly it’s done face-down!  I couldn’t justify shipping a mosaic-topped table home, but I did find a Moroccan Furniture store in West Hollywood.  Stay tuned

 

Chefchaouen, "The Blue Pearl"

I’d seen so many photographs of Chefchaouen, the “Blue City,” but was still surprised at the subtle spectacle of the hillside hamlet.  We just had one night there but made the best of the time with long walks and lots of images.

 

Roadside olive processing center

Our photo guide wanted olive oil to take home, so we stopped on the road at the roadside press.  What a spectacle!  Locals were having their own oil pressed or buying the owner’s product in multiple four-liter jugs. There were huge piles of fruit.

Finally, we landed in Casablanca.  The largest city in Morocco, it is comprised of about 4 million people.  From all over the city center, you can see the 700-foot minaret of Hassan II Mosque, for which “ornate” is not a sufficient descriptor.  Including outdoor space, 100,000 people can worship there at once. 

Rainbow at Hassan II Mosque, Casablanca

As if all that were not enough, there was a rainbow conveniently lurking behind the structure on our arrival.

I was surprised to enjoy the fish market in Casablanca just as much.  There were no smells and no flies, and it was oddly photogenic.

The fundamental things apply as time goes by.

In the end we covered 2000km of varied, culturally diverse, beautiful Morocco.

A joke on Ishmael. IYKYK

I’m grateful to Strabo Tours, our Local Guide Ishmael, driver Meadhe, and Photo Guide Ron Rosenstock for an unforgettable experience.

There’s more on the website.