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Tangiers...the real thing? - Morocco
by Mary | Date >
2004-07-31 | Country : Morocco | City : Tangiers
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| Tangiers is a large, vibrant seaport just across from the British colony of Gibraltar. Barbara and I decided a week’s trip that included both destinations would be cool and hopefully not too expensive. Tangiers was crowded, noisy and totally exciting. We stayed at a genuine Moroccan hotel rather than a tourist trap, maybe that was our mistake. The room was OK, we decided that the mustard coloured, peeling wallpaper and stained washbasin were authentic and congratulated ourselves on being part of the REAL Tangiers. We were woken the next morning by a riot taking place just outside out bedroom window. Cowering we hugged each other closely and fearfully opened the curtains; to see the school opposite welcoming its pupils.
The first inkling that the restaurant was not going to conform to Holiday Inn standards was the waiter lounging by the breakfast buffet eating ice cream out of a huge tub of the stuff. When we eventually got his attention, much screaming and waving of limbs involved here, he sauntered over and yawned vigorously. The sight of his intermittently placed dark brown teeth and dirty fingernails was off putting but we ordered anyway. What we got I couldn’t say but the stomach cramps later in the day came as no surprise. I prayed to the god immodium and recovered fast enough to set out to investigate the sights.
After a day fending off little tykes with uncles who desperately wanted to sell us something we went down to dinner. Big mistake. The breakfast waiter had been replaced with his less attractive and even more laid back cousin. He stubbed his cigarette out in a saucer and took our order. Cous Cous followed with a lamb stew set in the middle, quite tasty really, the first time. Admittedly after 3 days it got a bit tiresome. The dessert menu was produced and we, in the way of English speakers the world over, giggled at the mistakes. The mouse cake particularly amused us until, YES HONESTLY, the real thing, mouse not cake, appeared at our side and with a winsome look up at us started eating the crumbs on the floor. Exit two backpackers, tired and emotional? You bet.
Gibraltar beckoned and we caught the ferry over there. Vast swathes of the place were like a 1960’s council estate in the UK. We visited the home of the famous Barbary Apes, very expensive trip that, the cost of rabies bites in Gibralter ain’t cheap. You got it; I was bitten by one of the beasts whilst trying to fend it off when he made a grab for my carrier bag. The sheer blandness of Gibraltar got to us after we had spent the first day seeing the sights and we spent the final two days of our trip on the quayside yearning for the hellhole that was Tangiers.
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