I went to Asilah, a little village near the coast, this weekend. Here is how things went down.
Day One.
I got up at 5:30 to take a taxi from Batha (closest hub) to the train station for a 6:50 train. Kirsten, a girl on the trip, walked with me; the night guard, who watches over the neighborhood until sometime mid-morning, walked with us. It was nice to have a male presence there, just in case. It was not so nice that he felt the need to pull the back of both mine and Kirsten's shirts down, like we were showing off too much flesh (of which there was none visible) or were being too skanky (a label which realistically cannot be applied to either of us). We thanked him awkwardly, and he nodded gravely like he had done us some vital service. We were happy to be rid of him when we finally got a taxi to the train station.
Our group of 9 girls hopped on to the train at around 6:30. It was old and rather dirty, but we had individual compartments and the train was red. Hogwarts Express jokes took up about 30 minutes of the ride. Talking about Harry Potter in general was another few minutes. The rest of the time was girl gossip, which seems to be characterize 90% of our conversations. Example #2334 of there being way too much estrogen on this trip. We switched trains at Sidi Kacem, and for the rest of that train ride I slept. Well, almost all of it - I woke up when some train worker shoved me roughly on the shoulder to see my ticket. He was apparently grumpy and I was unhappy at being woken up so rudely. We had a glarefest. Not sure who won.
When we finally got off the train it was with relief. We had watched the ocean slowly come into view for a good 15 minutes, and were itching to get into the water. At least, the rest of the group was. As is typical with me, I forgot my swimsuit, arguably the single most important thing to bring to a beach vacation. So I was excited to go buy a swimsuit. We caught a ride into Asilah with a super sketchy but cheap van/taxi, and arrived at our hotel without incident. The hotel was relatively cheap and very clean, and (like almost all of the buildings in Asilah) was whitewashed. There were green and blue mosaic tiles on the walls of the room and the floor tiles were green and blue; the windows were closed off by green shutters, and the doors were green. It was a cute hotel.
After checking in and paying our room fee for the night, we headed off to get lunch. Using our LonelyPlanet travel guide we found a good restaurant near the Medina (old city) that served both traditional Moroccan dishes and the local delicacy: fresh seafood. I got spaghetti with "fruits of the sea", which ended up being small shrimp and a mystery fish. The mystery fish was questionable but the shrimp was good. As was the sword fish that other girls got.
After lunch, two other girls and I went to the Medina to try and find a swimsuit while the rest of the group headed to find a taxi to Paradise Beach. In the medina we were informed that the shops had closed for the afternoon because it was Friday, the Muslim holy day, and everyone had gone home for a big lunch of cous cous. So we gave up the swimsuit hunt and caught a taxi to the beach, which we would soon realize was very far off the beaten path. The taxi had to manuever through the twists and turns of a dirt/sand road that wound its way through agricultural fields and desert brakken for a good few miles before beginning the descent down towards the beach. But what a breathtaking descent! The ocean was a clear blue with a decent sized swell, and the sand was dark on the beach where the tide had rushed in and trampled by hooves where multiple horses had been walked by their owners. There were three small shacks that served as restaurants, a few chairs spread along the length of the beach, and only a few beachgoers. The beach was framed by yellow hills on the far side, and the greenery was low shrubs and small trees. There was an afternoon mist over the far side of the beach. It was very beautiful.
We told our taxi to return for us at 6:30, just after sunset, and set out our towels to catch some sun. By 5, however, it was starting to get dark and too chilly for laying out. So we decided to start walking towards the road in the hopes of meeting our taxi along the way. During our walk we were passed by a horse cart with three boys who asked us if we were going to Asilah. As a typical response to Moroccan men we ignored them, and they drove past us. But a few minutes later we saw one of the boys waiting for us further up the path. He asked if we were going to Asilah in Spanish (side note: almost everyone in Asilah spoke fluent Spanish. It was so nice to FINALLY understand what someone was telling me without needing some sort of translation) and we said yes. He asked if we wanted a ride on the cart, telling us that he didn't want any money, just to help us out. We were reluctant but he and his friends didn't seem like trouble, so we got into the cart.
Through a roughly translated Spanish conversation, we found out that the boys were all cousins. The owner of the cart and horse was Jamal, who was 21; the others were Ahmed, 17, and a little cousin of and uncertain name who was 15. They tried to teach us how to say "I am 20 years old" in Dereeja, but we've all forgotten by now. They also sang songs for us, told us the names of random objects in Dereeja, and asked us questions about America.
The ride itself was wonderful. The sun was setting on the horizon in a wash of purple, pink and orange, and it was so quant to be bouncing along in the back of a cart through fields of melons and yellow sand. Despite Ahmed attempting to hold my hand (and succeeding for about 5 minutes while I awkwardly wondered if I should tell him I was unfortunately off the market - until his cousins made fun of him and he dropped my hand), the entire adventure was one I'll never forget. After dropping Ahmed and little cousin off at their respective houses, Jamal drove us as far as he could with his horse cart, and then dropped us off at a well-lit street and pointed us in the direction of our hotel. He was friendly and waved goodbye after we thanked him profusely for the ride.
After we put our stuff in our hotel room, we all went out for dinner. I had a Spanish omlette. It is my new love. It is the only thing I will cook for my future family.
See next blog for days two and three...
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