.... Tetouan, the madinah (city)
After two months I'm on the road again ... After studying two months Arabic in Algeciras. I now know the Arabic alphabet and I can read simple Arabic texts more or less although often I don`t know the meaning of many words. In Morocco mostly texts, road signs are both indicated in French and Arabic so that is quite helpful.
... A stork on top of a mosque tower
Today is the third day that I'm in Morocco. From Algeciras to Ceuta / Sebta I caught the boat. Sebta is a part of Africa that Spain occupies as England does with Gibraltar. I have to start from scratch again with respect to the hiking. For the first time in my pilgrimlife I have blisters. The distances I hike are embarrassingly small: respectively twenty five, twelve and ten kilometres. I have also sent some stuff home like my precious guitar. I saved about two kilograms less I had to carry so that is a good thing.
Morrocco is a culture shock for me. Buses overloaded with people, beautiful beaches filthy though. Everything seem to be a bit more chaotic compared to Spain. Many women with headscarves, lots of little boys really everywhere where the girls seem to be non existent. A new thing too for me is the fact I am in a country where I don`t understand the language [Arabic] although I can read it piece by piece.
People stare at me all the time, yell at me or want to speak to me. Damn!. I haven`t had so much attention in my life as in Morrocco!.(Maybe also because I look quite odd / villainous with a beard, a stick, and such a huge backpack!).
... me as a villain
It is occasionally a tiring but not done with bad intentions. Therefore I remain polite, put my left hand on my heart - which is a sign that you talk with good people, I believe. I then thank people for leaving me alone since I wish to hike along the promenade by myself.
Sometimes I stare back!. There is so much to see: camels, women in gorgeous robes (which unfortunately disguise their opulent shapes), women with burqas, all this stuff in the street that is offered for sale ...
Especially those crammed buses / collectivos I find fascinating. When I look at such a bus people wave at me which is funny. It reminds me most of Colombia, Peru, where one find the same art of transport.
... Camels on a football field. (There were also two copulating camels but I was kinda embarrassed to take a picture of the love couple
Yesterday I was in Martil, in the Madinah. Everywhere in the street were people. There was a large market and a huge amount of people!. It seemed to me like the carnival in Willemstad (N.A.). I ended up in a neighbourhood with no pavement, small dark stalls where people had their little business, a guy who was repairing bicycles, a huge pool of water, a smell odor like in the Middle Ages!. In the center is a mosque that to me resembled the Giralda of Seville.
I have advanced a bit and right now I am in a hostel right besides the plaza in Tetouan. With the owner who has been deported from the Netherlands three times, I can speak Dutch (but I speak French all the time with him since it makes the conversation more fluent). The people here are anyway in general good at languages: many speak several languages (a bit) which is very different from Spain where the Spaniards usually only speak their own language.
I am following the coastline to the east, towards Algeria. The coast is being `developped` in terms of building with high speed hotels, resorts. It seems that the Morrocans are a bit jealous of their neighbours in Spain and Portugal: Algarve or the Costa del Sol.
One doesn`t find tourists in these new resorts, hotels. Ocassionally some retired frenchmen in their campers can be spotted [in which they have evertything, like all the precious food of the homeland France] but they stay on a camping or a parking lot.
I want to go to Al Hoceima, and then descend south.
It's spring what makes temperatures rise up to thirty degrees (!).
The entrance to the old city of Tetouan is impressive. First one enters a bunch of narrow streets after a kind of Soukh [market] and finally the visitor ends at the plaza (what is forbidden to enter since it is part of the royal palace of King Mo. V)
To me it is striking that in the middle of the historical centre such a huge empty square can be found because if one hikes a bit off the square there are again many people, crammed on a limited superficie (in my case hobbling since I had huge blisters).
The reason for this huge amount of people was market day. Berber people were coming from the surrounding mountains of Tetouan to offer their goods on the market. I heard this from a reliable source [a wannabe guide who was eager to guide me around for the small amount of fifty Diraham].
Another redundant source, a man who was the proud owner of two teeth that fired some Dutch words at me. It is all well meant but now and then annoying and irritating.
This homes above I met in Algeciras, a super pilgrim indeed!. His plan is to travel as long as possible, well, at least four years [!]: meet Roman aus Romanshorn von der Schweiz!.
The photo below shows a cloudburst over Algeciras, heavvy shit!. The water even entered my hostel. As I waded through the water in the street I heard everywhere grievous cries and weeping. Even the gypsy who tried to sell me hashish every day was panicking because his shoes had become wet!.
... A drowned neighbourhood (Algeciras)!
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