Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Outside it was the end of September. I'm at a loss trying to at least roughly sketch out your route on Indochina, where I was going to fly in mid-December. It turned out, to put it mildly, not very good, and I'm thinking more and more often - and not say goodbye to me at all whether this undertaking, it is very unrealistic, she looked then and in terms of the necessary time, and in terms of money, which had to spend on it. By the way, at the very moment I was not in the presence of either the first or the second.
Outside the window was a warm fall? One of those no-no yes sometimes visit St. Petersburg at that time, just before the final plunge into the city for a few months in the twilight of the autumn rains. Sunday night to visit me Dmtiry dropped and we went cycling on a standard route - around the imperial parks. We went and talked about this and that, until my friends told me the sad story: he has one month vacation, and he knows how to spend it ... I wanted to help. We went to me, brewed tea, and began to think about the option - in whatever exotic expanse send Dmitry. After a couple of hours we were in the hands of two tickets to Morocco at the beginning of November. So I unexpectedly met again somewhere on the edge of the earth ...
I remember only Dmitri left, I thought firmly: "Good for you, Vladimir, you and so there is no time, no money, and you still soaped in Africa for a walk. It is time, Che! "
However, it is worth mentioning that Morocco has long been my longtime fetish. I first began to gatherther immediately after his return from Portugal so enthralled me. Still, after Morocco seemed to me a pure reflection of its Moorish, so mysterious and so inviting. But still I somehow did not develop - it was not the cheapest tickets, you could not find in my free time already busy schedule - in general, the crocodile is not got caught, the coconut did not grow. I could only cry but pray to God. I do not know if my prayers were answered, or the stars suddenly came together in the right order, but suddenly fell on my mail a letter with the coveted ticket. Retreat was too late - had no choice but to send one and all to hell, scrape the bottom of the barrel and start to pack.
For a couple of days before our departure by plane, en route from Sharm el-Sheikh in St. Petersburg there was a terrible terrorist attack. 224 people were killed, among them 25 children. Petersburg sorrow, and Pulkovo formed a spontaneous memorial to which the inhabitants of the city were carrying flowers and toys. It looked like it all incredible - the memorial was so huge, if every Petersburger decided that evening to come and pay homage to their fellow citizens. I stood in a corner, smoking, and people kept coming and going. Something inside me turned upside down at the moment. I put a huge bouquet of some yellow flowers and walked into the terminal.
Pulkovo
On the way to Morocco, we had two transplants. The first - short - in Moscow, the second - a longer - in Rome. There were four hours prior to the next flight, so we have successfully managed to execute the program "at least": out of the airport, take a stroll along the shore of the Mediterranean Sea, to stand in traffic and almost missed my plane back.
Time was running out completely, so we went to the nearest airport decent place - Lido di Ostia.
Lido di Ostia
Formally, this is - one of the areas of Rome. In fact - a small resort town located an hour away from the Italian capital and therefore quite popular among the native Romans.
Lido di Ostia
There are here and tourists - especially those who are in the first place puts a beach holiday, but at the same time, wants to be close to the Eternal City with its countless attractions.
It would be the summer - I would not go here, even for all the riches of the world. But the yard was in November, the resort quietly slept, only the deserted beach walking warm Mediterranean wind, flirting with a couple of some European pensioners, so lonely Carabinieri reluctantly went back and forth on the sleepy streets.
Lido di Ostia
Lido di Ostia - several blocks, stretching along the sea. Away from the city there is a fork: straight - the road to Rome, to the left - to the airport. Near the fork - Ostia Antica, once the main port of Rome, and today - is a huge archaeological area.
As we have seen these archaeological sites in recent years simply obscene amount, it was decided to limit inspection through the window of the bus on the way to the airport.
Lido di Ostia
The preparation of the journey I had no time, so about Morocco, I did not know almost nothing. No, of course I have had some agreement with the partners, who have taken over some of our expenses, was sketched a rough plan of our expedition and even booked a car in Casablanca Airport.
I also know that Morocco - the kingdom, and it is - one of the two modern Muslim states controlled Hashimit - direct descendants of the Prophet Muhammad (the second such country - Jordan). At this my knowledge ended. In my imagination Morocco represents a huge lifeless desert - Africa still.
In order to somehow fill in the gaps in my education, I opened the downloaded torrent on the eve of Lonely Planet.
Morocco
The plane began to descend. During illuminator we could see the neat fields, jagged modern highways. So much for Africa!
Morocco
We landed. It was hot. Quickly and without too many questions going through all border formalities (in Morocco is officially forbidden to bring in a professional photo equipment, of course, is generally all to spit, but I still fear the possibility of unpleasant questions - the hell is our two backpacks, brim full of lenses and other various photographic Staff ), we went to look for a rolling office.
In travel, I always try to take a car with an automatic transmission. Spanish mill office where we had reservations, gladly offered us Huyndai Accent, only two times more expensive than a similar option on the mechanics. I would probably upset if I did not know that all the other Moroccan distributors will ask for more machine twice as expensive.
Beautiful black girl, prepares documents, known in English single phrase: «no english, only french». My knowledge of the French at that time was limited phrase: «bonjour», «merci» and «cherchez la femme». Somehow she was able to explain to me that they accept only cash, and that we were late for an hour, so we need to pay a penalty - 100 dirhams. My humble attempt to call the head office in Spain to express all that I think about them and all their relatives to the seventh generation, were condemned - was drawing night, the Spaniards have long drunk the wine, and the problem of two Russian travelers, rough-somewhere in the distant Morocco, they did not care. For decency, of course I tried to explain the dark-skinned beauty, so it is not good to offend tourists, but in response I was brought concrete argument: "Do not be satisfied with our terms - bring down all fuck. Stop wasting our time! "I had to admit defeat in the first battle with the Moroccan mentality, take the car and go home.
Morocco
I was convinced that Morocco - small kingdom. Look it up yourself on Google Maps - well, in fact no more than the Baltic states, and there from Tallinn to Vilnius - half a day can be reached. So when I first started to plan our trip, I had only one thought - what we'll be doing so much time, because you can drive around the entire country in four days ?! Oh, how wrong I was ... Features map projections once again played a cruel joke with me: though I have long known, and about the Mercator projection, and projection about the Gall-Peters, and about all of the following conclusions from this - but came back to those same rake. Oh, it is better to have it taught in school, not degradable square trinomial factoring ...
I was convinced that Morocco - this is some distant corner of the camel. And it turned out that it's full of European tourists, many of whom are going to travel in their own cars. Of course, if you think about it, there is nothing surprising in this - the ferry from Spain comes less than an hour, a visa to enter Morocco do not need, and across the country from north to south there is a wonderful toll road. So that European Grandma and Grandpa flock here in droves.
I was convinced that Morocco - ordinary Arab country. Anyway, my friends who have visited here before, in one voice betrayed me exactly this information. Well I just shook thoughtfully into their heads, not taking into account the fact that all their time they spent in the range of Agadir, anywhere without getting out beyond it. But the resort - even in Africa Resort: all these reservations the same as if the ass, in what world do not send point - all the same, well, just a different color. So, to say that Morocco - colorful, to say nothing. In fact, it is - one of the most interesting countries, where I was fortunate enough to visit. And compared with what I have, believe me. However, to experience the full flavor of this, it is necessary to dive headlong into the midst of the city medinas and seek there the darkest nooks and crannies - the real Moroccan life boils there.
But what if someone does not say, still the main value of Morocco - Atlantic Coast. Beat me as you like, but I love to knock out to the Atlantic - is impossible. Nothing in my life is not necessary, just sit on some high cliff, inhaling the salty air and watch the mighty ocean waves thundering breaking on coastal cliffs.
Once upon a time, these lands were part of the Roman Empire. In the VIII century Morocco became part of the Arab Caliphate. In the following centuries a marked impact on the country had its European neighbors - Portugal, Spain and France.
Today, all the west coast of Morocco is dotted with old forts, founded by the Portuguese, who tried unsuccessfully to settle on this land in recent years, the reconquista.
Spanish and French are also not weak heritage, especially in the early XX century, when Morocco turned out to be divided between the two nations. Since then, in the north of the country remained several Spanish enclaves - Ceuta and Melilla, and a few islands located at a short distance from the Moroccan coast - and the whole country was abundantly strewn inconspicuous French artifacts, eg, baguettes or kilometer posts with red tops.
Morocco - the country is mountainous. The highest peak - Toubkal, towering 4-plus kilometers. I even thought to conquer it, but the ascent holding at least a couple of days, could not manage to cram into our already hectic schedule. Now life is worth to come back.
Moroccan mountains - stunningly beautiful. All of Morocco - is a huge Wadi Rum: same bizarre weathered rocks, the same bright colors, such as the Martian landscape, only a hundred times more colorful.
Morocco - the first state, where I was not feeling comfortable. But it is - a trifle: a country where every step meets road sign, like the mustachioed contented cat - you can forgive everything!
Morocco - a country of contrasts. Huge supermarkets with parked at the entrance causing the SUV, and nearby children ask food. And if you drive off from major cities on a hundred kilometers - it has not before a meal, the water would be found.
Along the roads leading inland, there are old walled city - Ksar. In the next photo, I, like a mountain goat, jumping to the most famous of them - Ait Ben Haddou.
The most distal, and at the same time the most interesting part - the Sahara. Morocco is only out of the corner of her concerns, but this sun-baked border area is enough to feel the power of the largest desert on earth, and imbued with respect for the peoples inhabiting it.
I expected in Morocco on every corner will be sold kebabs, and their various derivatives - Arabs still. The only place where I could find them became Essaouira.
The rest of the country is fed by exactly two main dishes - couscous and tagine.
Couscous - steamed vegetables, meat and wheat. Muck - rare, I did not even take pictures of it. Previously, the main dish was couscous Moroccan diet. Today it is prepared only on Fridays.
Tagine - roast meat and vegetables cooked in a special ceramic pot. Delicious - extraordinary. Today tagine - the main dish, which is served everywhere - from snack bars to expensive restaurants.
Tagine have taken hands of one large pot that is placed on the center of the table.
In general, with the meal in Morocco case, surprisingly, it is not so. Most cafes and restaurants just preparing any one signature dish - a couscous or tagine. And it served only in the evening, after dark, and in the afternoon, dear travelers, can even die of hunger; All right, so be it, here's the coffee!
In this delicious note - it's time to finish his small overture to the post of the Morocco cycle. Continue - in the coming days.