Return to Spain

On the 26th of April we returned to Marrakech from Essaouira, and after an afternoon in the medina we made our way to the train station. 

And then checked in and boarded the overnight train to Tanger-ville at the very north end of Morocco. 

Here's Melinda in our wee compartment; we had the bottom bunks on each side. We were eventually joined by two other tourists, backpackers from America who brought on takeaway pizza and chicken wings.

We arrived Tanger-village early in the morning, and turned down all the taxi drivers who hustled us for business.  

 

We walked past a park on the ocean front. Tanger-ville is a big city, and the part of it we saw was quite modern. We dead-reckoned our way to the ferry port by following the coastal walk. And it was easy to tell where the ferry terminal was as there were huge ferry boats docked in the port! 

And then through customs and immigration.

And on to the passenger loading ramp! 

About an hour later, we were on our way back to Spain! 

We had an absolutely magnificent time in Spain and Morocco with boB's parents, who are skilled travelers and a great deal of fun. We were sorry to part ways in Marrakech ... At the end of a wonderful time like that, you always realize just how fast it all went by! Now, with memories to last a lifetime, we carry forward with hope that our paths will soon cross again and that more exciting adventures await us all. 

As for Melinda and boB, we had mixed emotions about leaving Morocco. It was exotic, sometimes offensive, endlessly fascinating, a little bit scary, and always intriguing. And very, very beautiful. 

It had been an overwhelming journey. In some places the people were extremely pushy and we never could quite tell if we were being swindled or not. There was little genuine hospitality. We had been forewarned that we would be targets for scammers, that merchants would inflate their already inflated prices for us, and that the water and food could cause us to fall ill. Watch our for beggars and pickpockets, and remember that no one in Morocco tells the truth! It's good to be forewarned. 

But perhaps, on the other hand, it has its pitfalls. With our minds full of forewarnings, we went in with our defenses up, and in all likelihood we missed out on some very rich cultural opportunities because of it. We may otherwise have had great conversations with total strangers and we may even have had fun haggling with merchants without fear of being swindled (we did haggle to some degree, but we were on edge doing it).  We may have made stray cat friends instead of being suspicious of disease and afraid to touch them. We may have had great street food for pennies, without being afraid of falling ill (we generally ate only at nicer-looking restaurants - and became ill anyway!) It's a fine line between naivity and paranoia. And we strive to find the middle ground. 

And you know, we want to go back.

The dirt and the smells are a fact of life, as are the motorbikes racing through the narrow pedestrian-filled streets. The scraggly and sickly cats will pull at our heart strings, and although we can't do terribly much about that, we can give them treats and a head scratch (with plenty of post-pet hand sanitizer, of course). To the poor and the begging children we will be more charitable - perhaps with small gifts of books and pens. We can't save them, but we can be more kind and give a little of what we have in hopes that it may help. In these ways, we at least attempt to connect and to make a difference. 

Yes, when we go back we will be better prepared for the smells, the grime, the hustlers, and the poverty-stricken. And we'll be more open to random possibilities and unexpected adventures. We'll still be out of our element, but we'll be conscious of, and relax, our defenses, (at least a little). We want to be more open to being in Morocco, rather than just traveling through it. Moroccan culture is different than ours in so many ways, and we want to be more a part of their culture the next time. It's a beautiful place, and people, like people everywhere, are generally decent and good, and with better understanding, perhaps we can deal better with the less honest ones. 

And the weird toilets ... We're going to learn how to use them, too. Honestly. 

We arrived in Tarifa, Spain late morning, then caught a bus to Algeciras, and then another to Estepona, where we headed for the beach and a cerveza. 

It's as temporary as anywhere else we've stayed in the last ten months, but it felt like home and it was good to be back in our little corner of Spain.

Stay tuned for a final post about our last week in Spain.