Bike Tour: Days 21 and 22: Tarifa to Tetouan, Morocco

Day 20: Rest Day at Tarifa

Due to it being rainy, and also me having a desire to get caught up on writing and photo organization, and also gather my wits a bit before launching into the craziness that will likely be Morocco, I took the day off.  Not a ton to report: I just wrote most of the morning and attached photos, etc.  in the afternoon, I strolled around and took in the sights Tarifa has to offer, such as standing on the very furthest southern bit of the continent, strolling the streets of the historic part of town, looking at the castle, and walking down the long beach to where the kiteboarders were doing their thing.  That looks like a lot of fun, and if there is anything I need, it's a gear-intensive new hobby!

Day 21: Tarifa to Tetuoan, Morocco
Weather: cloudy turning to sprinkles, turning to full-on rain.
Roads- moderate to heavy traffic, shoulder usually adequate, but really unpleasant riding in combination with the rain
Bike: fussy today: got a flat, shifting and brakes both unhappy with the wet and all the road grit.  Need to give it attention.

The day started out promising enough and happily ended well, but I have to say the middle was a definite low point of the trip.  The ferry out of Tarifa is straightforward enough, and I took the early one just to maximize the day.  Pretty much all of my word of mouth knowledge of Tangeir was negative- but my Rough Guide seemed to think it had a few things worth seeing, so I tentatively had planned to sightsee during the day and then take off for Tetuoan the next day. 

But unfortunately the rumors of the scam artists being thick on the ground in Tangier was true, as I found out before I even got out of the ferry terminal- this one being hard to escape : as one ferry employee said I had to do something special with my passport, while another pretended to smooth the way for me,  then of course leaning on me for a tip to clear up the hassle he and his confederate had caused in the first place.  I was rescued by a government guy who swooped in as I started making a fuss-apparently they are trying to eliminate this sort of thing-  bit I had a bad taste in my mouth that seeing grungy Tangier did not alleviate.  Plus, having sort of itchy feet from sitting around a lot yesterday, I decided just to skip Tangier altogether and do the 65 km to Tetouan today.

All well and good, until the gray skies began to sprinkle, then rain outright, while the bike decided to be difficult as well, flatting out and getting cranky with the shifting.  The rain reduced the brakes' effectiveness, as well, which was a bummer after climbing a big pass in the rain and having to descend the other side of it.  The road, being a fairly major one, but the only route to Tetuoan that was at all direct, was full of giant trucks, and not to flavor the point, but it was hands down the worst day off riding so far. 

I just my head down, though, and got to Tetuoan wetter than a drowned rat cold and miserable.  I staggered into a cafe to get my bearings, and things immediately started to improve with my first pot of sweet mint tea, apparently a staple here.  I went to a cheap boarding house style hotel called a pension, and got a nice room for cheap.  Though the shower is down the hall, all I cared was that it existed, and after that I return back to ranks of the living.

From my whole 10 hours of experience, Morocco strikes me as on be of those countries like Peru or China that sits somewhere between the "developed" and "developing" world.  It is certainly a step down in convenience from Europe, but it's also no India or Cambodia.  The roads are reasonable shape;  people drive fast, but not insanely (and are relatively light on the horn, thank God); and walking the streets is perfectly pleasant (meaning I am not being swarmed by hucksters and cheats); and violent crime is really rare. 

That being said, this a FOREIGN country.  Aside from language and some relatively minor social differences (siesta, food, etc), Spain and Portugal kinda operate within similar parameters as home.  Morocco is an Islamic country, and an ancient one, and there is a lot going on here that hasn't changed a whole lot in many centuries. Calls to prayer echo from minarets everywhere, women are often veiled, and most of the men stroll about in Dr. Suess-looking snug body ponchos. 

I strolled around a bit after recovering from my wretched day of soggy riding, and the nearby souk (outdoor market) was really hopping. I had mentioned the medieval street layout of Lisbon and Seville, well, this is just plain medieval.  Same tiny alleyways, etc., except instead of being filled with classy wine bars, they contain butchered goats, live chickens, grilled kebob stands, delicious pastries, vast trays of olives and exotic fruits, and hidden entrances to mosques. Though a hell of a lot less classy, it's also a lot more interesting, and you can easily graze till you are full at various weird food carts and stalls (escargot?  Lentil soup?  Delicious panani sorta things but with cabbage, cumin, and meat?). for a couple bucks.  Try doing that in Europe.

Also kinda digging being well off the backpacker path.  Though this entails the rebirth of Big White Clown (see my China blog) and I once again draw stares and smirks wherever I go, it also involves staying at more interesting places than hostels- such as this pension I currently am writing you from.  French colonial architecture, run by a friendly family, filled with Moroccans laying prayer rugs and doing their ambulations to Mecca.  Also cheap cheap cheap.  Minus: squat toilets and very strangely designed showers.