Finding a Shoulder and Hopping into a Car of Strangers
So the folks in Lassi Habiad, as sweet as they are, forgot to make me a reservation on the direct bus to my next destination. They were very sorry, so I couldn’t stay grumpy at them for too long. Well, that’s to say that I couldn’t be grumpy with them, but I definitely felt intermittently grumpy about it all day as I wondered how much faster it would have been to go direct!
The fix for missing the direct bus was to take a little bus to Rissani, then a grande taxi to Er Rachidia, and then a local bus stopping in my destination, Boumalne de Dades, the town at the foot of the Dades Gorge. I definitely wasn’t on any tourist buses, and eight hours later arrived in Boumalne. The trip was supposed to have taken around four hours.
So I had a very sweet travel moment in the grande taxi from Rissani to Er Rachidia. Grande taxis are a popular form of transport in Morrocco for going between nearby cities. Strangely enough, they are all Mercedes sedans, and six passengers get crammed into each taxi. It leaves when it’s full unless you want to pay for the extra seats. I got stuffed in the back seat of the taxi with three plump middle-aged ladies who were taking up around 90% of the seat. I was crammed against the right hand door, leaning my head on the window. I had jerryrigged my hoodie up against the window to block the sun while I dozed off. The next thing I know the woman next to me motions to me to put my head on her shoulder. I didn’t know what else to do, and her shoulder looked pretty comfy, so I gently rested my head on her shoulder. She adjusted my hoodie, tucking it up against the window so the sun wouldn’t shine on my face. At one point, I woke up embarrased to find that I had been drooling on her nice robe! I discretely wiped my mouth and moved myself away a little. But her motherly hand came back and firmly settled my head back on her shoulder. I wasn’t even tired at that point, but it felt rude to not obey, so I snuggled right back down.
It’s especially nice to interact with a woman here in Morocco because as a tourist, the only people I deal with are men. The men run the shops and hotels. They drive the taxis and man the buses. They’re the ones sitting in every cafe, to the point where you wonder if it’s illegal for a woman to even be in a cafe.
By the time I got to Boumalne, my head was hurting, I was tired, I was super hungry because I had skipped lunch to catch the bus, and I was (purposefully) dehydrated so I wouldn’t need to pee on the bus.
As soon as I got off the bus, a guy approached me asking me if I was going to the gorge and said he knew someone with a hotel. I usually blow off everyone like this, but this time, I actually listened. Maybe I was just too tired and wanted to have arrived already and did not want to look for a shared taxi up the gorge and then search for a hotel. Maybe he just looked trustworthy, or maybe it was because he was kind of cute and outdoorsy looking.
He told me that his friend had a hotel and I could get breakfast, dinner, and a room with a shared bathroom for 100 Dirham (around 10 Euros). Compared to other prices I had seen, that seemed like a great deal, so I agreed. I confirmed with him that it was not a dorm bed, but a single room. It was about 28 km up the gorge and they would drive me up for free. If I didn’t like it, then I could pay for the ride and go elsewhere. Although I knew that would be challenging because the hotels are all strung along this rode and aren't concentrated in any one place. So I hopped into a car with him and three other Moroccan guys, including Brahim, one of the owners. I know, it sounds like something you shouldn’t do as a solo female traveler (get into a car with four men you don’t know) but it felt okay.
So here I am in the hotel. The upside: It’s in a gorgeous location at the top of a canyon, the three course dinner was lovely (roasted veggies, apple raisin beef tagine, followed by oranges sprinkled with cinnamon, which is a new favorite simple discovery), and it’s spotlessly clean. The downside: I am writing by candlelight because the generator has been shut off. I am the only one here. There’s no wifi. And well, technically, I am in a room. It has a door. It’s not a dorm room. It just so happens the room is the reception!
So I’m sleeping next to the reception counter on a sleeping pad in an alcove. Toilet down the hall. The shower in the other direction in the one proper guest room they have, which I can ask them to open for me when I need. I have zero privacy (some curtains on the windows would be nice), and I can’t lock the door.
The fix for missing the direct bus was to take a little bus to Rissani, then a grande taxi to Er Rachidia, and then a local bus stopping in my destination, Boumalne de Dades, the town at the foot of the Dades Gorge. I definitely wasn’t on any tourist buses, and eight hours later arrived in Boumalne. The trip was supposed to have taken around four hours.
So I had a very sweet travel moment in the grande taxi from Rissani to Er Rachidia. Grande taxis are a popular form of transport in Morrocco for going between nearby cities. Strangely enough, they are all Mercedes sedans, and six passengers get crammed into each taxi. It leaves when it’s full unless you want to pay for the extra seats. I got stuffed in the back seat of the taxi with three plump middle-aged ladies who were taking up around 90% of the seat. I was crammed against the right hand door, leaning my head on the window. I had jerryrigged my hoodie up against the window to block the sun while I dozed off. The next thing I know the woman next to me motions to me to put my head on her shoulder. I didn’t know what else to do, and her shoulder looked pretty comfy, so I gently rested my head on her shoulder. She adjusted my hoodie, tucking it up against the window so the sun wouldn’t shine on my face. At one point, I woke up embarrased to find that I had been drooling on her nice robe! I discretely wiped my mouth and moved myself away a little. But her motherly hand came back and firmly settled my head back on her shoulder. I wasn’t even tired at that point, but it felt rude to not obey, so I snuggled right back down.
It’s especially nice to interact with a woman here in Morocco because as a tourist, the only people I deal with are men. The men run the shops and hotels. They drive the taxis and man the buses. They’re the ones sitting in every cafe, to the point where you wonder if it’s illegal for a woman to even be in a cafe.
By the time I got to Boumalne, my head was hurting, I was tired, I was super hungry because I had skipped lunch to catch the bus, and I was (purposefully) dehydrated so I wouldn’t need to pee on the bus.
As soon as I got off the bus, a guy approached me asking me if I was going to the gorge and said he knew someone with a hotel. I usually blow off everyone like this, but this time, I actually listened. Maybe I was just too tired and wanted to have arrived already and did not want to look for a shared taxi up the gorge and then search for a hotel. Maybe he just looked trustworthy, or maybe it was because he was kind of cute and outdoorsy looking.
He told me that his friend had a hotel and I could get breakfast, dinner, and a room with a shared bathroom for 100 Dirham (around 10 Euros). Compared to other prices I had seen, that seemed like a great deal, so I agreed. I confirmed with him that it was not a dorm bed, but a single room. It was about 28 km up the gorge and they would drive me up for free. If I didn’t like it, then I could pay for the ride and go elsewhere. Although I knew that would be challenging because the hotels are all strung along this rode and aren't concentrated in any one place. So I hopped into a car with him and three other Moroccan guys, including Brahim, one of the owners. I know, it sounds like something you shouldn’t do as a solo female traveler (get into a car with four men you don’t know) but it felt okay.
So here I am in the hotel. The upside: It’s in a gorgeous location at the top of a canyon, the three course dinner was lovely (roasted veggies, apple raisin beef tagine, followed by oranges sprinkled with cinnamon, which is a new favorite simple discovery), and it’s spotlessly clean. The downside: I am writing by candlelight because the generator has been shut off. I am the only one here. There’s no wifi. And well, technically, I am in a room. It has a door. It’s not a dorm room. It just so happens the room is the reception!
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| The view from the terrace of the hotel |
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| The hotel perched on top of the gorge |
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| My little nest in the reception room! |
But all in all, it’s quite cozy and really, I’ve learned that I can pretty much sleep anywhere for a couple of nights.
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