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August 1 - August 17
Week 1: Ole! We got to Sevilla and it was so hot, it felt like hell on earth. I was not ready. The only good thing about the five days we spent there is that now I could call my dad and tell him I found a place hotter than Santo Domingo in August. I had taken the Monday off, but couldn't do much exploring because of the heat and the exhaustion from traveling. The next day, our internet crashed at the Airbnb, so we spent the day scouting the city for reliable WiFi, jumping from one place to another every time it crashed. It baffles me how easy going these people are. Everywhere we went, people told us they had WiFi and when we asked if it was reliable they'd reply with: "Well, not really. It's been crashing every day since last week. Must be the heat." They would say that without any frustration in their voice. I wanna be like that when I grow up. I said to my travel crew that I would not stand another day of internet hunting in 90-degree weather, so I paid for a co-working space for the remainder of the week. Remote work struggles, guys. The best thing about Sevilla was the flamenco. I watched as much as time and my wallet afforded me. I even took my first flamenco class--not with intentions of learning to dance, but for educational purposes. To pretend you could dance such a beautiful, complex baile after a class would be an insult. When the day to leave for Marrakech came, I was so tired of moving around and dragging my luggage that I thought about just going straight to Rabat. First-world problems, I know, but spending 12 days on the road, dragging a 50lb bag and a backpack wears on you. |
Heart of the medina, NOT where we stayed.
34 Hours in Marrakech
I have to give this place it's own sub-section because even though I was there for less than two days, it felt like a month. If you've known me for longer than a year, you probably know about my snake phobia. It's a serious fear that torments me and keeps me from enjoying the outdoors fully. One day I'll tell you how it all started, but for now on, just know it's a thing and will shape (whether I want it or not) my traveling path this year.
I'm all about information, so I spent most of the time on the flight to Marrakech reading articles about how and when you may see snakes there. I was terrified as I read that charmers and handlers sometimes wrap snakes around tourists without permission. I pictured myself walking through the markets and feeling a cold snake on my neck and decided two things:
a) I would not go to Jemma El Fnaa (don't care how "electrifying" people think it is)
b) I would try to cover every inch of my body, in, so that if someone places a snake on me, I wouldn't feel the skin... Crazy talk, right?
The first night we got there, we had no data and no way to contact our driver/Airbnb host. Big mistake. We were tired, hungry and already hot despite arriving after sundown. We finally found our driver and got on the road about an hour after landing. During the drive, I watched how people flooded the city squares and small parks, children running around with their parents nearby, watching and mingling among themselves. I was surprised to see SO many people outside (too hot to be indoors, perhaps?) and also surprised of how poor the medina and its surroundings looked. Things were looking very different from what I had seen on the Internet.
Our riad was supposed to be this beautiful place in the heart of the medina. When we got off the cab, I realized it was not anywhere near the beautiful pictures I had seen. We were in the heart of the medina ghetto, my friends... Which is fine, I grew up in the ghetto, but foreign ghettos are no joke, especially if you can't speak the language and carry 70 lbs of luggage that scream "I'm not from here!". We walked about 7 minutes to get to the riad (not accessible by car), passing running kids and the glaring stare of our soon-to-be neighbors.
Once inside, the riad was beautiful, but... the WiFi wasn't working! This pissed us off immediately as we had explicitly emailed the host to ensure we'd have enough routers/hot-spots for us to work. We were supposed to work from the riad on Monday and realizing that we weren't going to be able to, was not what we wanted after a long day of traveling. We were tired and cranky and hungry and scared to go back outside to find food and water. Not a good first night.
We left the riad to get dinner and ended up at this cafeteria-like place where the host spoke many languages and treated us like friends. We witnessed a fight between a young boy and what it looked like a mentally ill man. The food was great and only costed four dollars. When I asked for a meal "to go" for one of our friends, the owner gave me a porcelain plate and told me to "bring it back at some point".
When we we walked back to the riad we did it quickly, ignoring every offer "to help" we received. We got lost and made a 10 minute walk last 20. That's when my dreams of Moroccan nights dissolved. The medina is a maze and I already wanted to leave. I went to bed that night already planning when I was going to leave for Rabat.
When I woke up on Sunday, I decided I was going to make the most out of that day and informed my travel crew I was going to leave Monday instead of Tuesday due to the lack of internet. My coworker is out of the office the whole month of August, so I can't afford to have the internet "drop every now and then". They all understood, obviously. Some of them wanted to go back too, but sucked it up.
Sunday, was hectic as expected. We made it to the real heart of the medina which meant going through the markets, getting harassed and feeling claustrophobic. I was also freaking out with every step thinking someone was going to come at me with a snake. It was terrible. For me, at least.
Now, if you ever go to Marrakech, prepared to get hustled. HARD. The medina is very poor... Very, very poor and you can tell there's not a lot of income-generating sources for the locals as the riads and business are often owned by rich foreigners. This means you have people following you, sometimes aggressively, demanding you buy from them or pay them because "they brought you back to your house". This is not a myth. We did manage to find a decent-looking "tourist guide" decided to go with him because I knew that I was not going to see anything else in Marrakech unless I was with a local.
Our guide was corteous and you could tell he was kind-hearted, but the blogs were right! He only took us to shops. Shops that I assume he has a deal with and gets commission because he'd leave us there to "learn the history behind the goods". I fell for everything and ended up spending an amount I'm too embarrassed to disclose. My haggling skills are poop, but hey, that rug is gonna look so nice when I get my next place in NY.
I have to give this place it's own sub-section because even though I was there for less than two days, it felt like a month. If you've known me for longer than a year, you probably know about my snake phobia. It's a serious fear that torments me and keeps me from enjoying the outdoors fully. One day I'll tell you how it all started, but for now on, just know it's a thing and will shape (whether I want it or not) my traveling path this year.
I'm all about information, so I spent most of the time on the flight to Marrakech reading articles about how and when you may see snakes there. I was terrified as I read that charmers and handlers sometimes wrap snakes around tourists without permission. I pictured myself walking through the markets and feeling a cold snake on my neck and decided two things:
a) I would not go to Jemma El Fnaa (don't care how "electrifying" people think it is)
b) I would try to cover every inch of my body, in, so that if someone places a snake on me, I wouldn't feel the skin... Crazy talk, right?
The first night we got there, we had no data and no way to contact our driver/Airbnb host. Big mistake. We were tired, hungry and already hot despite arriving after sundown. We finally found our driver and got on the road about an hour after landing. During the drive, I watched how people flooded the city squares and small parks, children running around with their parents nearby, watching and mingling among themselves. I was surprised to see SO many people outside (too hot to be indoors, perhaps?) and also surprised of how poor the medina and its surroundings looked. Things were looking very different from what I had seen on the Internet.
Our riad was supposed to be this beautiful place in the heart of the medina. When we got off the cab, I realized it was not anywhere near the beautiful pictures I had seen. We were in the heart of the medina ghetto, my friends... Which is fine, I grew up in the ghetto, but foreign ghettos are no joke, especially if you can't speak the language and carry 70 lbs of luggage that scream "I'm not from here!". We walked about 7 minutes to get to the riad (not accessible by car), passing running kids and the glaring stare of our soon-to-be neighbors.
Once inside, the riad was beautiful, but... the WiFi wasn't working! This pissed us off immediately as we had explicitly emailed the host to ensure we'd have enough routers/hot-spots for us to work. We were supposed to work from the riad on Monday and realizing that we weren't going to be able to, was not what we wanted after a long day of traveling. We were tired and cranky and hungry and scared to go back outside to find food and water. Not a good first night.
We left the riad to get dinner and ended up at this cafeteria-like place where the host spoke many languages and treated us like friends. We witnessed a fight between a young boy and what it looked like a mentally ill man. The food was great and only costed four dollars. When I asked for a meal "to go" for one of our friends, the owner gave me a porcelain plate and told me to "bring it back at some point".
When we we walked back to the riad we did it quickly, ignoring every offer "to help" we received. We got lost and made a 10 minute walk last 20. That's when my dreams of Moroccan nights dissolved. The medina is a maze and I already wanted to leave. I went to bed that night already planning when I was going to leave for Rabat.
When I woke up on Sunday, I decided I was going to make the most out of that day and informed my travel crew I was going to leave Monday instead of Tuesday due to the lack of internet. My coworker is out of the office the whole month of August, so I can't afford to have the internet "drop every now and then". They all understood, obviously. Some of them wanted to go back too, but sucked it up.
Sunday, was hectic as expected. We made it to the real heart of the medina which meant going through the markets, getting harassed and feeling claustrophobic. I was also freaking out with every step thinking someone was going to come at me with a snake. It was terrible. For me, at least.
Now, if you ever go to Marrakech, prepared to get hustled. HARD. The medina is very poor... Very, very poor and you can tell there's not a lot of income-generating sources for the locals as the riads and business are often owned by rich foreigners. This means you have people following you, sometimes aggressively, demanding you buy from them or pay them because "they brought you back to your house". This is not a myth. We did manage to find a decent-looking "tourist guide" decided to go with him because I knew that I was not going to see anything else in Marrakech unless I was with a local.
Our guide was corteous and you could tell he was kind-hearted, but the blogs were right! He only took us to shops. Shops that I assume he has a deal with and gets commission because he'd leave us there to "learn the history behind the goods". I fell for everything and ended up spending an amount I'm too embarrassed to disclose. My haggling skills are poop, but hey, that rug is gonna look so nice when I get my next place in NY.
Leaving our Marrakech "hood" early Monday.
Week 2: Group Dynamics
I left Marrakech early Monday, so I could make it to the work space by 2 PM. The train ride lasted about 5 hours and when I got to the station in Rabat, I couldn't find the cab I had reserved. Biggest regret of this side trip: not buying a sim card with data for the Marrakech travel days.
I finally took a city cab, got lost on the way to the co-working space, had to stop at a marble factory and ask for directions. I finally experienced what is like to NOT speak the language for the first time in a long, long time. When I got to the coworking space and saw the rest of the Remote Year crew, I almost kissed the floor. I had made it "home".
Rabat is... interesting. It's definitely a city, but more in the way of Santo Domingo rather than Madrid or New York. It's hectic and sorta diverse, but not really. The people are very nice, though. And my favorite part, no hustling. It's also not as wild as I expected it to be culture wise. I haven't gotten harassed for being a woman. Then again, I dress conservatively and apparently look Moroccan. I feel comfortable walking around my neighborhood, which is one of the nicest ones, but you can still see the subtle differences between the genders. For example, there are a lot of cafes with outdoor seating, but you only see men seating outside. Every. Single. Time. Only men seating outside.
It is also a bit of a "dry" city where finding alcohol is challenging and often expensive. A lot of people in the group are struggling with this. Me? I'm struggling more with the dynamics.
I want to go back to the idea of using this year to (cliche alert!) work on myself and not get caught in the group dynamics. It is hard, though. We'll see where we go from here. Also, I'm trying to learn more about social psychology and global history, so please send book suggestions.
I'm going to Fes and Chefchaouen this weekend, so I'm really excited about that. I'm going with an eclectic group (not the Lagos-Seville-Marrakech crew) that goes from the most introvert to the wildest in the group. That should be interesting.
Till next time.
<3
-Johanna
I left Marrakech early Monday, so I could make it to the work space by 2 PM. The train ride lasted about 5 hours and when I got to the station in Rabat, I couldn't find the cab I had reserved. Biggest regret of this side trip: not buying a sim card with data for the Marrakech travel days.
I finally took a city cab, got lost on the way to the co-working space, had to stop at a marble factory and ask for directions. I finally experienced what is like to NOT speak the language for the first time in a long, long time. When I got to the coworking space and saw the rest of the Remote Year crew, I almost kissed the floor. I had made it "home".
Rabat is... interesting. It's definitely a city, but more in the way of Santo Domingo rather than Madrid or New York. It's hectic and sorta diverse, but not really. The people are very nice, though. And my favorite part, no hustling. It's also not as wild as I expected it to be culture wise. I haven't gotten harassed for being a woman. Then again, I dress conservatively and apparently look Moroccan. I feel comfortable walking around my neighborhood, which is one of the nicest ones, but you can still see the subtle differences between the genders. For example, there are a lot of cafes with outdoor seating, but you only see men seating outside. Every. Single. Time. Only men seating outside.
It is also a bit of a "dry" city where finding alcohol is challenging and often expensive. A lot of people in the group are struggling with this. Me? I'm struggling more with the dynamics.
I want to go back to the idea of using this year to (cliche alert!) work on myself and not get caught in the group dynamics. It is hard, though. We'll see where we go from here. Also, I'm trying to learn more about social psychology and global history, so please send book suggestions.
I'm going to Fes and Chefchaouen this weekend, so I'm really excited about that. I'm going with an eclectic group (not the Lagos-Seville-Marrakech crew) that goes from the most introvert to the wildest in the group. That should be interesting.
Till next time.
<3
-Johanna
PS: Don't get turned off by my Marrakech experience. It's a beautiful place, with the brightest moons and sunsets you'll see. I think I'll go back... If I find a Moroccan friend to take me. When I do, I'm doing all of this.
Morocco Part II: Out With A Bang
Dear friends,
The last two weeks in Morocco were... eventful. I cried in public (not once, but twice), gave my mom a break (those of you who know us, feel free to close your mouth now) and made some questionable decisions on the day I was supposed to fly out to Sofia. Let's start from the beginning.
Last time I wrote, I was telling you about a trip I had coming up to Fes and Chefchaoen. Well, those two cities didn't disappoint. Fes was a much nicer, mellower experience than Marrakech. While there was definitely some hustling, with men occasionally following us saying they "work for (insert whichever place tourists go to)", people generally left us alone.
I was amazed at how pleasant our walk through the souks was without anyone trying to pull us into a store or asking for money after "guiding us to the right spot". But the best thing about Fes was: no snakes. I got lost in the medina and walked through the busy food market without a concern. I felt safe and calm in Fes, which was a blessing considering what was going through my head.
The last two weeks in Morocco were... eventful. I cried in public (not once, but twice), gave my mom a break (those of you who know us, feel free to close your mouth now) and made some questionable decisions on the day I was supposed to fly out to Sofia. Let's start from the beginning.
Last time I wrote, I was telling you about a trip I had coming up to Fes and Chefchaoen. Well, those two cities didn't disappoint. Fes was a much nicer, mellower experience than Marrakech. While there was definitely some hustling, with men occasionally following us saying they "work for (insert whichever place tourists go to)", people generally left us alone.
I was amazed at how pleasant our walk through the souks was without anyone trying to pull us into a store or asking for money after "guiding us to the right spot". But the best thing about Fes was: no snakes. I got lost in the medina and walked through the busy food market without a concern. I felt safe and calm in Fes, which was a blessing considering what was going through my head.
Chefchaouen was literally an oasis. Known as "the blue city", it is located afoot of a mountain, away from the hustling, harrassment and heat I learned to expect in Morocco. The people were so nice and warm, but more importantly, they seemed happy. And not the kind of happy you see when you're a tourist. This was a humble, chill kind of happy. It was in Chefchaouen where I got my heart broken.
I came back from Chef feeling different. I kept a low profile on my last week in Rabat because I wasn't really in the mood to party or talk to many people. I dove into work and thanked the Berber gods for a late work schedule that gave me the perfect excuse to be antisocial.
When travel day came, I didn't have much energy or fucks to give and that's when the "fun" started. I will leave the details for when I see you in person.
This weekend, I'm going to a writer's retreat in the mountains with the writers in the group. Me? I just want to read and relax, maybe meditate and get all zen with nature. Although, who knows, maybe I'll come up with a fun story or two. I promise to keep you posted on this and all things Bulgaria, which so far is the most underrated country I've visited. Seriously, it's beautiful here.
Anyway, thanks for reading and your DMs and your emails. I appreciate and look forward to every one of them. I leave you with some lovely pictures of Fes, Chef and my last days in Morocco.
Til next time!