What to read on your Moroccan holiday.

As I’ve mentioned before, I love reading books set in the country I am visiting. While living in Morocco, I did my best to get my hands on as many Moroccan related books as possible. It was surprisingly easy! My school’s library was fairly well stocked and I was able to access a few more titles using my e-reader. Reading about Morocco definitely added to the vibrancy of the place. Just looking at the cover images of these books makes me want to head back there for a little more exploration.

Morocco of Old 

 

1. The Spider’s House by Paul Bowles – Set during the Nationalist uprising in Fez during the last days of the French Protectorate. The story is told through the eyes of both an American expat and an illiterate Moroccan boy. Especially interesting to read as an American expat myself living in the French quarter of Marrakech.

2. The Sheltering Sky by Paul Bowles – Full disclosure: I actually read this book years ago. I loved it until I got to a particularly disturbing part and it kind of went downhill from there. However, it’s such a classic that I would still recommend it. It Three American travelers seek the exotic in Northern Africa, but aren’t quite sure what to do when they find it.

3. A Life Full of Holes by Driss Ben Hamed Charade (Larbi Layachi) – This book was actually dictated to the tape recorder of Paul Bowels by the storyteller. The story is not quite autobiographical but closely resembles the life of Larbi. After being kicked out of his home at an early age, the subject goes on to seek survival through any means necessary. There’s sex, drugs, love, and a whole lot of injustice.

4. Dreams of Trespass: Tales of a Harem Girlhood by Fatima Mernissi – Whatever image you have of a harem in your head, replace it with the imagery of this book. Mernissi grew up in a harem in Fez in the 1940s and shares her memories of childhood and the women around her in this beautiful book.

5. The Sand Child by Tahar Ben Jelleum – I found this book to be confusing at times but very powerful. Faced with the realization that he will never have a son to pass his property to, a father of eight daughters decides to raise his youngest as a boy.

6. For Bread Alone by Mohamed Choukri – This title came highly recommended by my Moroccan teaching assistant. It tells the story of Choukri’s difficult early life living on the streets after having fled from the Rif due to drought and food shortages.

 More Modern Titles

 

7. In Arabian Nights by Tahir Shah – This book should really be read after The Caliph’s House, but I didn’t have access to that title at the time. In The Caliph’s House, Shah tells the story of moving to Morocco and settling into his new home. In Arabian Nights continues the story but through the angle of traditional Arabian storytelling.

8. Hope and Other Dangerous Pursuits by Laila Lalami – Strangers meet on a raft bound for Spain. This short collection of stories tells the backstory of how and why each person made the dangerous decision to flee Morocco and pursue hope.

9. Secret Son by Laila Lalami – A novel about the consequences of poverty and resentment. At age 19, Youssef discovers that the father he always believed was dead is actually alive, well, and very wealthy. Youssef forms a relationship with his father, only for it to crumble. It is clear that Youssef’s life will never be the same.

10. Stolen Lives: Twenty Years in a Desert Jail by Malika Oufkir – Previously banned in Morroco, Stolen Lives tells the plight of the Oufkir family who was imprisoned after their father’s failed coup attempt.

11. Hideous Kinky by Esther Freud – This is a good one. A mother moves to Marrakech in the 1970s with her two young daughters. Her pursuit of adventure and spiritualism draws the family into poverty and at times conflict. The story is based on the author’s own experience having lived in Morocco as a child. We watched the movie adaptation on the roof of our apartment building one warm night. It was gorgeous.

12. Lulu in Marrakech by Diane Johnson – This book is terrible. It rubbed me the wrong way more than once but since it’s set in Marrakech, here you go. Lulu is the stupidest undercover agent ever and I honestly kept rooting for her to fail. Let’s leave it at that.

I would love to hear if anyone has any other recommendations for Moroccan related books.

xo, jill

 

A sweet spot.

Before leaving Marrakech, Mike and I figured we better hit some of the tourist spots we hadn’t reached yet. One such spot was the Maison de la Photographie. It can be a bit tricky to find, but it’s definitely worth the search. The gallery features black and white photographs from Morocco’s rich history. Looking through the photographs you can see just how much (and how little) Morocco has changed. There’s also a little film that plays upstairs.

While you’re on the upper level, make sure you climb the stairs to the roof terrace and enjoy a mint tea. It’s a very relaxing and peaceful spot to enjoy a nice view over the medina. The prices are pretty reasonable too.

On the way out, browse the postcards and prints in the boutique. Mike and I picked some out to decorate our future house… for you know, whenever we settle down.

xo, jill

A different view.

The other night I couldn’t sleep and found myself scrolling through Mike’s Instagram account. Of course, I had seen all these photos before but only hurriedly as I checked my phone in the middle of doing this or that. Taking the time to look at all of the photos together, especially the ones from Morocco, made me realize just how much I love the images. It was like taking a little walk down memory lane but through someone else’s memory. I thought you might enjoy looking through them too and seeing our time in Morocco from Mike’s perspective.

From Mike’s solo excursion to Fes

Clockwise: Tetouan / Koutoubia Mosque / Street singer / Horse Parking / Ben Youssef Madrasa / Ouarzazate 

Clockwise: From our roof / Boats in Essaouira / Majorelle Garden / Jema El Fna / Medina / Cats in Essaouira 

Clockwise: Passageway / Rugs in Marrakech / Pharmacy / Bougainvillea in Agadir / Orange Juice / Taxi

Clockwise: Marrakech Palms / Goats in trees / Tangier / Hassan II Mosque / Chefchaouen / Cat at mosque

Looking at these photos alllmost makes me want to go right back. It was a really beautiful year. Thanks for letting me share your photos, Mike.

xo, jill

 

A day I would happily live again (and again).

Paradise Valley was high on my list of places to visit in Morocco. I was determined to not let it whither on the “wish list” like poor old Fes. Although a popular spot for locals, Paradise Valley is not a super common tourist destination (yet). It’s just not as easy to get to as other places. Fortunately, I put my best researcher on the job (that would be Mike!), and we put a plan in motion. Adam and Katie joined us for what was easily one of my favorite weekends of the year.

First, to get to Paradise Valley from Marrakech we took a Friday afternoon bus to Agadir. This turned out to be one of the strangest bus rides of my life. Our driver and another car began dueling on the road. There was a lot of fist shaking, fast breaking, and bus swerving. Finally, the bus and car pulled to the side of the highway to hash it out. About half of the men on the bus also jumped off to have a go at the car driver. When the bus driver returned, it was now the passengers’ turn to shout and complain at him. The woman in front of me cried, “Incroyable!” so many times I was beginning to wonder if that was the extent of her French vocabulary. Turns out, it was not.

We stayed the night in Agadir and enjoyed a nice meal near the water. Mike had to work Friday evening so he took a later bus and met me at the hotel. The next morning we arranged a taxi to take us to the nearby surf town of Taghazout. Our accommodation ended up being an empty hostel but that didn’t matter much. We were headed to Paradise Valley!

Prior to arrival, we hired a car and guide to drive us out to Paradise. I would recommend this route over a drive-yourself situation. The rode was extremely rough. Plus, you’ll get to stop at an argan oil cooperative! (Ok, that’s a bit of a joke. Pretty much all tours, guides, and roads lead to an argan oil co-op.)

After parking the car, we grabbed everything we’d need for the day and hiked in. There are a couple of different spots along the river for jumping and swimming. Our guide took us to one place and explained, “If you jump here, you must jump here. Do not let the wind carry you forward. Here it is deep. There it is 3 feet.” We passed in favor of a safer place further along the trail.

Left: View from above / Right: Mike jumping.

I wish I could say I jumped. But honestly, I was so scared I could feel it in my feet. I wasn’t scared of the jumping part… just the walking on wet and slippery rocks at a great height to get to the jumping part. I did, however, take my role as photographer quite seriously.

After lounging in the sun chatting with some young Moroccan hikers (who were backpacking with a pallet of eggs!), we hiked over to another more populated swim hole. For the record, I did get in the water here.

Can you see me?

On our hike back out we stopped at (the only?) little cafe in the hills to enjoy our pre-ordered tagine and mint tea. It was a gorgeous place to relax, refuel, and enjoy each other’s company. Mike and I were so lucky to have Adam and Katie as our “couple friends*” who were always up for an adventure. With a little luck, one day we will all end up in a similar part of the globe again.

All tuckered out, we headed back to Taghazout and then on to Marrakech the next morning.

xo, jill

*but individual friends too!

Thanks to Mike’s iPad for providing all these photos. 

Squeezing it all in.

Last June, a few weeks before leaving Morocco, some friends and I headed out on a day trip to hike in the Ourika Valley.  Turns out, we weren’t the only ones with that idea!

The valley is generally a few degrees cooler than the city, which makes it a popular weekend spot. The waterfalls only make the valley that much more appealing.

How’s that for waterfront property?

Before heading home we settled down to a satisfying meal in the middle of the river. There’s nothing like enjoying a tagine after a hike while chilly mountain water rushes over your feet.

xo, jill

Life in Gueliz.

I know that Gueliz is not the most exciting neighborhood in Marrakech, but last year it was where Mike and I called home. Despite having a few parents express sympathy that the school housed teachers in Gueliz, I actually grew to like the place. Gueliz is the modern French built area of the city so it lacks the unique character of the medina. However, I think it still retains it’s own charm.

We were in easy walking distance to two grocery stores, the bank, good restaurants, several cheap cafes, and my yoga class. The train station and fruit/veg market were only a 20 minute walk away (although in opposite directions), and like I’ve said before, Marjorelle Garden was just down the street. Oh, and a good ice cream place was just a block away as well. Walking down the street you were just as likely to see horse drawn carriages and donkey carts as you were to see beat up taxis or brand new Mercedes.

Clearly, I took this picture right after garbage day. Throughout the week garbage piles up and spills over the dumpsters on a regular basis. It smells terrible but keeps the stray cats happy.

For me, I preferred living in the wide streets and open spaces of Gueliz over the cramped and labyrinthine medina. Whenever I felt overwhelmed on medina excursions, returning to Gueliz was a relief. (I know that there are amazingly peaceful riads within the medina, but let’s be honest, those places are not realistic choices for private school housing.)

One of our favorite neighborhood places was a cafe called Mike’s Cafe. Ok, just kidding. It’s Frescobaldi but Mike was there so often that it earned a little nickname amongst our friends. The food is nice, though not amazing, but the real appeal is in the laid back atmosphere, people watching, and familiar waiters. (When one of the waiters got a new job, he made sure to say goodbye to Mike. So sweet.) We often spent long weekend breakfasts there sipping mint tea and grazing on olives and French bread.

Our last Frescobaldi breakfast.

It’s funny how a place can start out feeling so foreign and different and then transform into a home, especially in the course of one year.

xo, jill