Foggy In Morocco

Wednesday 9th April 2014. 4:00am. Around two hours after we got to bed. The Thomson Celebration is on her way to the port of Agadir in Morocco. We have spent a day at sea and spent the night in the Horizons bar with Tomas and Maris providing the entertainment. After they finished we started nattering for a while and so it was a late night.

Now it's four o'clock in the morning. I know this because some huge monster just surfaced and roared at us! There it goes again!!! No... wait... and again... no it's the ship's hooter! It's pitch dark. I get out of bed and inch a curtain aside. The ship's lights show a blank wall of yellowy grey through the window. We've run into fog! A ship's hooter is not a quiet thing and - as ships' hooters go - that of the Thomson Celebration is an outstanding example! It goes off once a minute for several seconds. This lasts perhaps half an hour (or it might just have seemed like that...)

Once it stopped we managed to get back to sleep for a good ten minutes until it started again...

Again it didn't last all that long and we woke up refreshed and ... well we woke up... to find that Agadir was a bit grey and murky that morning! We weren't planning on leaving the ship anyway. I have an aversion to shopkeepers dragging me bodily into their shops and a finger in the eye often offends. Safer to stay on board. Once when we were here one shopkeeper told me I had a nice smile. For all their love of bartering he didn't seem inclined to want to enter into negotiations for me to produce it again...

So we spent the day reading and eating. I did consider running up to the gym to laugh at the people in there, but it seemed like too much effort. At lunchtime we looked through the restaurant window and saw the coast at the side of the ship quite clearly. But once back up on Deck 8 it was still foggy! There'll be more to write about tomorrow...!

Colourful Coasts Cruise Index

Culture Clash at the Kasbah!

4 March 2004. Tour time in Agadir, Morocco. We were on a half-day city tour having spent the morning on the ship. The tour included a trip to the Kasbah and a botanical garden and a souk - market.

We were warned that the locals would not take no for an answer and that anyone who walked next to you talking would expect payment for acting as a guide whether invited or encouraged or not.

The reality was even more in-your-face. Fran had the baby goat more or less thrown at her and instinct made her catch the poor thing. Both locals wanted paying for this photo! I had to wonder how they could stand wearing all those layers in that heat!!!

Others were even more unlucky though. One woman who wandered away from her husband was grabbed and lifted onto the back of a camel despite her protests. The camel was then raised to its feet and carried her off several hundred yards and the equivalent of 30 pounds charged to bring her back! It was all a bit of a revelation!

The souk was interesting but you were just never let alone for a second. Stall holders would physically pull you into a shop. There was some brilliant stuff there though - the wooden box looking like two books sandwiching vertical blocks of wood was a "magic box" with intricate sliding panels and hidden mechanisms to first find a key and then uncover the keyhole to open it. But although half the tourists would have bought one had it just had a reasonable price on it, none of us were into all the palaver of bargaining and bartering that was involved to buy one. A true culture clash!

The young lad in the background of this shop came over to tell me I had a nice smile and I got a laugh when I immediately offered "you can have a photo - five euros..."

Several of the group were feeling uncomfortable in the large souk and we ended up in a huddle with several armed police watching over us until it was time for the guide to come back with the coach.

This then took us to a beach area thronging with more jewellery salesmen - genuine fake watches etc - and a good view of the remains of the Kasbah up on the hill. Spoiling this vista of exotic Morocco was a MacDonalds, all bright red plastic, a hideous chunk of America plonked in the middle of African culture with no concession to its surroundings. Not sure what food was being served - MacDonalds may not try to fit in with the local aesthetics, but they do serve locally acceptable cuisine and that (had we been tempted to try it) may have been another culture shock!

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