Had an early morning flight so was up bright and early and off to the airport. The last time I flew to Malaga, on the same flight, to go to Morocco I was subjected to a 10 hour delay and low and behold they did it to me again though this time I was delayed for just over 4 hours. You are entitled to compensation for delays of over 4 hours within the EU so I was delighted we made it just over the 4 hour mark as it will cover the cost of my flight quite easily as comp is €400.
I arrived in Malaga behind schedule and unable to now get a direct bus to Algeciras (and the ferry) for another
few hours as I missed the morning one. I proceeded to the counter and asked the lady in my remedial Spanish about getting to Algeciras (as I didn't want to go to the city centre bus station if I could at all avoid it) and thankfully she told me to get the bus to Marbella in 5 mins and I could change there to get to Algeciras and make it there at a more civilised time, though I'd given up on getting to Morocco today.
I got to Marbella and changed bus without much hassle and slightly before 6pm I could see the Rock of Gibraltar, I quickly checked and realised I could still get a ferry across at 6:30pm and I'd still be in ok time to get a taxi on to my final destination, the beautiful blue city of Chefchaouen. Algeciras is a crappy port town anyway, no point spending the night there.
I got on the Ferry and we were off, I thought the Ferry was only 30 mins and then realised it was actually an 1hr30mins and I had just forgotten that Morocco is an hour behind Spain.
When I was arriving they had this arabic writing on the side of the mountain that looked like the flag of IS, I wasn't sure if there'd been a takeover since the last time I was there or not
In the past I've arrived in the past from Tarifa to Tangiers City vs this time of going from Algeciras to Tangiers Port, which is not even near Tangiers (it's like Ryanair named the port) so it was the first time I saw the writing. Thankfully one of the lads on the boat told me it meant God, the People and the King. So no takeover
When I got there I was literally one of only two foot passengers on this massive ferry as usually foot passengers go to Tangiers City. They do immigration on the boat so when I got off I just showed my passport to some dude and then got a bus to the terminal and walked out without any other checks as there was nobody there at the bag scanner. Very Moroccan, I was fucking here, back in Africa, back in the Maghreb!!
I left and proceeded to get a Taxi, I spoke Spanish with some guy and we agreed a price and he brought me to a driver who threw him a few dirhams (Moroccan currency) for bringing him some European money. I then left with the taxi and after speaking in Spanish with him and him asking me if I was Spanish I realised his Spanish was worse than mine, this could be a long two plus hours I thought.
In Morocco if the taxi leaves a town boundries they need a stamp from the local police, he tried to explain "documentos, policia" and I explained that I understood, but Jesus Christ, he me brough me to the police station on this dirt road that looked like we were going to wasteland somewhere. If I hadn't been aware of the process with
documents I would've been full sure that I was going to die on the outskirts of some shitty Moroccan port. Judging how dodgy it looked he kept pointing ahead and saying "documentos, policia" as if to assure me he wasn't going to rob me and bury me. Sure enough we came to a newish police station at the end of this dirt track and he got his stamps. Then we went to the pharmacy and he explained it would be closed later, "despues cerrado amigo"....again very Moroccan,
why not pick up a few things on this impatient stoners time, but I was just so happy to be there! A few hours later after hurtling up mountain roads listening to arabic and spanish pop music we finally arrived in Chefchaouen and I made my well to the hostel, revelling in the fresh mountain air and safe in the knowledge I would be seriously stoned, very very soon!
When I got to the hostel (my 3rd time at that place) the guy recognised me and smiled, I hadn't booked as I wasn't sure what day I would arrive. He got me a room and I asked for my man there, he said he would be there tomorrow
and asked how much I wanted and said he could get me something for this evening. I told him how much I wanted, he disappeared and 10 mins later my man knocked on my doors in his slippers with a few bags and a scales. Oh yeah! Once they know you are not wasting their time with small amounts suddenly he can be there today, in 10 mins, versus tomrrow
I had a look and got 20g's of his best stuff. I showed he the lotus vape and the torch lighter and asked about butane gas. He sent one of the kids out to try get some but alas shops were closed.
I had to wait and just puff a few pipes that night, which I proceeded to do on the rooftop terrace. I can't explain the great feeling after leaving my house circa 5am in the morning to finally be stoned at 10pm that night in the Rif
Mountains. I went out to visit a friend who runs a Bocadillo place (Moroccan Subway ^_^) to find their Dad now runs it as the guy finally managed to get a job as a teacher. I was really happy for him. It's hard to make sandwiches
all day when you're a qualified teacher and want to do be doing that and his Dad was chuffed that I was so pleased about it.
Back the hostel for a few more pipes before bed and the excitement of Day 2, seeing some more friends,
seeing some more wares, enjoying my favourite Moroccan food and enjoying the mountains.
looking forward to the rest of it.
wanna go there, loving the photography.
