Two weeks after we returned from our road trip through Italy, we headed to the Frankfurt Airport once again to fly to the African country of Morocco. We flew into the city of Casablanca for two days (which were 2 days too many) and then jumped onto another plane to head south to the city of
Marrakesh.
Casablanca was a dirty city and nothing like what the name would imply (white house). Once we
dropped our bags off at our hotel, we headed to the
Medina in the old part of town. What we found there was a
precedent for what was to come. Live animals being 'butchered' in the open air, hanging meat, smelly vegetables, spice barrels galore, and tons of knock off clothing. However, we did find some great traditional clothing stores along the alleyways. There was one store that forced Matt to try on a Berber outfit, which turned out to be quite hysterical (note the picture on the left). The problem with the markets is that every local tries to bother you. They want to be your 'guide' and try to charge you for services which you never even solicited in the first place. Just walking through the market, we were bothered by countless men trying to tell us they were our 'guide.' If you pay a reputable company for a real licensed guide, you are not bothered at all (we learned this later on in Fez). So, note to self, if I ever go back, I'll hire a licensed guide--just for the mere fact that the
pesty locals were beyond annoying and very creepy.
As I mentioned earlier, after surviving Casablanca, we headed south on Royal Air
Morroc to Marrakesh.
Marrakesh was full of fresh
squeezed orange juice stands, snake charmers, musicians, chimps, medicine men, henna tattoo artists, mosques, and all the random things that go along with the souks. The main square, called
Djemaa el Fna, in the heart of Marrakesh, was quite charming and buzzing full of people. At night,
Djemaa el Fna comes alive, as hundreds of food vendors set up shop cooking various Moroccan foods while story tellers and musicians abound the streets. The picture on the right is of
Djemaa el Fna at night.
There were tons of stray cats, donkeys attached to carts, and various other animals that looked so sad. I felt so sorry for the donkeys there, as they were so abused and emaciated. I think I even cried once they looked so pitiful. From the
Djemaa el Fna were the many miles of souks (areas dedicated to various crafts) that Matt and I were able to walk through. From hand made shoes called
babouches, leather goods, metals, baskets, pottery, jewelry, and clothing to live animals, food and spices,
upholstery, and decorations--if it can be made or sold, the souks had it. The picture on the left is of a
babouch stand in the souk.
After enjoying the sights, souks, and tastes of Marrakesh and staying in a
Riad (an open air traditional Moroccan home) for a night, we jumped into our own private Land Rover Defender with Ibrahim, our driver and 'guide' and headed east into the Sahara Desert. For the next 5 days, all we did was DRIVE! As an avid Land Rover lover, I was thrilled to really get to ride in a Defender in the terrain it was created to perform on...however, this Defender was about 6-9 years old, had NO air conditioning, and no music. Luckily, it wasn't too hot in Morocco yet according to their standards (ONLY in the 80's and 90's--the locals thought it was cold), so the drive wasn't too horrible. All I can say is, thank goodness for windows! Since the windows were rolled down the majority of the time, I learned why people wear
bandannas and head scarves there...if you don't you get covered in sand! Matt and I managed to make the best of our conditions and never actually killed one another, which was a great feat for us! Over the next 5 days, we travelled through countless towns, ate at the most 'suspect' of eateries, and only got to shower once (we were sexy).
Our first stop on our driving expedition was
Ouarzazate (on the left).
Ouarzazate is the
movie making capitol of Africa and houses over 5 huge film production companies. Most movies that depict the desert or ancient times are filmed here--when we were there they had just completed the movie, Alexander, with Angelina Jolie. Due to all the money involved with making movies,
Ouarzazate 
is a really nice, modern town full of nice hotels, golf courses, and resorts. From
Ouarzazate, we headed further east to the town of
Zagora. On the way to
Zagora, Ibrahim stopped at an ancient
kasbah (a Berber castle made of sand and mud) for us to
tour (picture on the right). Matt and I climbed through the
kasbah with about 10 kids and 2 adults following us haggling us for money--which was incredibly annoying. When we arrived in
Zagora, we unloaded the
Defen
der and jumped onto 2 sad looking camels led by two nomads to head out on a 1.5 hour trek into the desert outside of
Zagora for our first open air 'tent' experience. Riding camels is one of the strangest feelings in the world--especially when you are sitting on them when they stand up and sit down--because there isn't a real saddle...just a big blanket and their hump. Above is a picture of my camel, Fred, and to the right is a picture of one of our nomadic guides
who took us out to the desert.
At the beginning of the camel ride, we met up with a few British/South African girls and some
Frenchies from a different tour group, and had the pleasure of spending the remainder of the day (and the night) all together in a communal 'tent.' The word, 'tent' is in parenthesis because it was a homemade contraption made of carpets. The picture should explain it! The nomads prepared all of us a traditional nomad dinner and we all ate together with our hands (what a lifesaver
Purell and wet wipes are!). We had a great time with the British girls, as they kept us
up telling stories of growing up in South Africa learning Zulu. Oh, in the picture, do you see any toilets? I didn't think so. This first night in
Zagora also marked our first night without a toilet. Our toilet was the great outdoors. And let me tell you...there's nothing fun about popping a squat on sand dunes. Matt seemed to think the contrary. After our night in the sand dunes and desert, we loaded our backpacks on our sad camels and headed back to
Zagora. When we reached
Zagora, we jumped back into our Defender and headed even further east towards the towns of
Erfoud and
Merzouga. On the way to
Erfoud, Ibrahim let us stop and take this picture...the sign to
Tombouctou.
On our way to
Erfoud, a huge downpour had hit the night before ruining many of the tent and sand homes in the area. This downpour caused a slight problem for us in the Defender, as the water had pooled in the sand, causing a giant lake in the middle of the road. So, Ibrahim decided to take an alternate route in the sand dunes, which turned out to be slightly
catastrophic. After trying to go over a large sand dune, the Defender got stuck (even with a 4x4 Land Rover, the sand is incredibly hard to drive on). So, Matt and Ibrahim spent about an hour in the pounding heat trying to get the Defender out of the sand and were finally able to get the wheels going (with the help of another local who Ibrahim called on his cell phone). Strangely enough, you can get cell phone coverage in the Sahara Desert and not in your house in the States! This picture is of Matt running back to the Defender after he had helped push it out of the sand (I was in the Defender and Ibrahim was driving, so Matt was the one who got stuck alone in the dunes and had to make his way back to the less hilly sand where the Defender finally stopped. The water is from all the rain).
Since we couldn't make it to
Merzouga in the Defender, the nomads we were to stay with that night had to come get us. So, about an hour and a half later, along came our nomad friend and 2 camels to come get us. These camels weren't as sad looking as the ones in
Zagora, but they were still sad. Matt and I named them on our voyage through the sand dunes of the Sahara Desert--I named Matt's "Joe" and he named mine "Tony Llama." Funny thing about the names is that my camel, Tony, didn't like his name because he wasn't a llama--so he tried to bite Matt's leg! We laughed for a long time about that one--because he tried to bite Matt every time he called him Tony.
This camel trek took us deep into the Sahara--over huge sand dunes. Our Berber nomadic guide
walked the whole way (I told him he was crazy), guiding our camels (camels aren't like horses...without someone walking in front of them to guide them, they would just stand still and not go anywhere). As we trekked on the apex of the sand dunes, the camels
woul
d poo every 20 minutes (like horses, they can poo in motion). Since we were at the peaks of the dunes, their poo would drop down the dunes into the 'valleys' of sand. Given that we were on this voyage for almost 2 hours and had no other entertainment than talking, Matt and I had "milk dud" races down the dunes (their poo looks like milk duds)--so whichever camel's (Joe or Tony) poo rolled to the bottom of the dune first, won. I don't remember who won the most races, but it was really funny at the time and made the time go by a little faster. In addition to the milk-dud races, we were able to experience one of the most beautiful gifts God has given us--the sunset. I can not even explain how magical the sunset was as it reflected off the golden sand. It was incredible.
When we reached our final destination (a site tucked behind a gigantic sand dune that housed 2 large 'tents') that evening, we were introduced to another Berber nomad
and the various animals that had taken up residence with them. Since it was just the 2 of us with the 2 Berbers, the experience was really great. Matt and I decided to go on a 'short' trek up a sand dune by foot while our hosts cooked dinner. This 'short' trek ended up being a 650 ft. dune! The dunes are very deceiving, as they don't look as tall from the bottom as they really are. There were several times where Matt and I thought we only had a few more meters to go to get to the top and we were never even half-way up the dune. Once at the top, I wouldn't move, as I was so afraid
of falling off the other side of the apex and dying, so Matt made fun of me and walked along the pristine tip of the dune to take pictures. When we made it back down the dune, our hosts had cooked us a traditional dinner (later that night I found out that it was goat--gross) and provided us with Berber entertainment (handmade drums and singing). As we were being entertained by our hosts, a random cat,
who the hosts had named
Moush, decided to befriend the cat-hater, Matt. She wouldn't leave Matt alone and eventually took up residence in his lap. I had to give him kudos for that one. When it was time to go to bed, Matt and I tucked ourselves into our 'tent,' sleeping on top of carpets that littered the sand floor in the same
clothes we had worn that day. By this point, we were at day 3 without having showers and covered in fine grains of sand. The picture on the top right is of our 'short' trek--we took a picture of our footprints the next morning--and the one on the bottom right is of the view of the sunset from the top of the dune that we hiked. You can kinda see how pristine the top edge of the dunes really are. The pictures on the right are of our tent that we slept in (it's the larger one on the right), our dining room (the open air--we sat on those carpets), and of Matt and
Moush the cat.
The next morning, we jumped back on Joe and Tony, and our hosts guided us back
through the dunes to an old
kasbah (Berber castle) where we ate breakfast (Berber bread and jam). Ibrahim was there waiting for us with the Defender and after eating, we were back on the road headed north west to the
Todra Gorge. On the way to the gorge, Ibrahim stopped at a some Berber village where we were taken on a tour of an ancient
kasbah. Inside this
kasbah, we were invited into a woman's home for tea and a Berber carpet lesson. Of course we couldn't leave without buying something, so we purchased 2 handmade, organic carpets--one to hang on the wall and one to use on the floor. The
Todra Gorge was just that, a gorge, full of water and green vegetation. After visiting the gorge, we found ourselves at another
Riad for the night. The best part of the
Riad was the fact that we had a bed and were finally able to take a "shower" (the shower was more like a hose stuck out of the middle of the wall, but hey, we could use soap and wash off!). The
Riad sat on the river and was actually very beautiful, so there were no complaints from us.
The next day was our last day on our Sahara Desert adventure, so it was time to head back towards Marrakesh. On the way back, we drove through
Ouarzazate once again and then eventually made it back to Marrakesh. Of all the things we did while in Morocco, our excursion out into the desert of Morocco was the best. We had a great time and know that we will never get to do
anything like it ever again.
Once we were back in Marrakesh, we had to say goodbye to Ibrahim and catch a plane north to Fez. With nothing but our backpacks and 2 Berber rugs, we finally made it to the city of Fez. When we arrived into Fez, our
Riad had a driver waiting for us at the airport to take us into town. The
Riad Matt had chosen for us to stay in was amazing. Nestled down a random tiny alley sat our beautiful 4-star
Riad with a great staff awaiting our arrival. Inside the renovated
Riad, Matt and I took part in the Moroccan baths, ate delicious dinners, and even talked the cooks into giving me a Moroccan cooking lesson.
While in Fez, Matt and I hired a licensed guide to show us around (after Casablanca and Marrakesh, we decided the money would be well spent) the Medina and souks. Our guide turned out to be fantastic, and he took us to places we might not have ever visited. We visited an active tannery and dying pit (which was foul smelling and quite nasty), a pottery factory, several
cemeteries, a carpet factory, and a
madrassa, all while learning the history and lore of the town. At the end of the day, our guide only cost us 20 euro--a steal for all his help and guidance. The picture on the left is of the tannery and dying pits. All
of the leather is soaked and stomped on by actual people's feet in the far, light colored pits that contain lye and animal feces to help dissolve the fur and make it easier to remove (you can kinda see some of the people waist deep in the pits). After the leather has been skinned (you can see the piles of fur and hair on the far left and right), it is hung out to dry. Once dry, it is put into the darker, closer pits to be dyed. All of the dyes are organic (cow urine for yellow, saffron for orange/red, berries for red/pink, etc), so the mixture of 'organic' smells combined with the feces and lye are eye watering. It's pretty disgusting. Luckily, it was only in the mid-upper 80's while we were there. Apparently in the scalding heat the smells are 10 times worse. I can't even imagine. I truly felt sorry for those men that worked there. The picture on the right was taken inside the main madrassa (Islamic school) in Fez.
After 2 days in Fez, it was time to head back to Casablanca to catch our plane back to Frankfurt. To get to Casablanca, we took a local train (which took about 5 hours) and managed to better appreciate the
punctuality and cleanliness of the German
Bahn (train) system. It was an experience to say the least. Throughout our time in Morocco, Matt and I were both amazed at how westernized in customs most of the country was. Aside from the Berbers, the rest of the Moroccans wore fairly western clothing, were obsessed with American music, all carried cell phones, and had satellite dishes attached to their 'homes.' I never had any problems with my clothing or having to wear a head scarf, but I did make sure to keep my shoulders and knees covered when I was in public.
All in all, the trip was a blast. We sipped hundreds of glasses of Moroccan mint tea, ate loads of couscous, and made thousands of memories. It is trips like this that make living in Europe so great. I guess maybe when we someday leave Europe and all the amazing travel opportunities behind that we'll think about having kids--as we would never get to do things like this with them in tow. God has definitely blessed us with fantastic adventures these past 6 years...yes, we've been together 6 years already! The time sure does fly.
As a Hawk tradition, every Veteran's Day, the squadron goes to the American Cemetery in Liege, Belgium, to honor its fallen comrades. The 23rd Fighter Squadron is the only fighter squadron in Europe that has fallen comrades buried in Europe. These fallen men were killed in action during World Wars I and II.
Although rainy, the day was quite memorable. The protocol for the day is that the squadron members wear their service dress and present wreathes at the grave of each of the fallen Hawks. In addition to placing wreathes at the graves, 
the squadron members give each comrade a moment of silence and conclude with snapping to attention and saluting the grave. It's pretty touching, to say the least, and something that we were honored to take part in...and going to the American Cemeteries is definitely something everyone should take the opportunity of doing if they come to Europe.
If the C-Max wasn't already full enough, we managed to fit about a kilo of aged 
