Back in Time

A Movie at the End of the World

and 5 surprises

Hollywood Morocco, Here I Come

Part 2

Surprises come from mislaid expectations.

Who, me?

I am often surprised, but that is more because I say yes to most things, and see what happens next.

What were my expectations this time?

What movie was I willing to sit on a bus a second time for a 14-hour trip to the edge of the Moroccan Sahara? (Hollywood Morocco, Here I Come)

Because the movie was Gladiator 2.

Yes. I kid you not. I went to Morocco’s Hollywood to do some movie extra work for Gladiator 2.

The trip down was just as long as the first time – and the views just as amazing, that desert version of the Swiss Alps switchbacks. Then the desert – It never fails to take my breath away. Not your classic red sandhills – they’re near the border in Merzouga.

Desert near Marrakech - the red city.

Most of the Moroccan desert is the flat stony kind, a landscape of hills with a stunning display of colours from the yellows and reds through to the pinks, purples and blues. And then a sudden splash of green along a stream at the foot of some magenta cliff faces.

Landscape and ruins on the edge of an oasis town near Ouarzazate.

And the expectations?

As it turns out, we weren’t to stay in the fancy hotel with the lovely swimming pool of the first visit. The 5-star hotel of the first trip was replaced with a 2 ½ star one. Billboard sized photos of Hollywood stars all around the courtyard did little to make it classy. I actually got a room to myself (usually it’s a shared room), so no competition on the dodgy shower that was intermittently cold and didn’t even work at first.

The hotel even had a pool! Perhaps a little green on the bottom and rather plain, but it was wet, and cool. And there was an outdoors bar at the end of it. At the end of a long hot day, a cold beer is still a cold beer!

The First Surprise (besides the hotel)

Can you imagine visiting ancient Rome? Cos I’ve actually been there!

Before dawn we were bused through a sleepy Ouarzazate to Atlas Studios for dressing. Registration, then breakfast, then dress, hair and makeup.

Atlas Studios, Ouarzazate

We walked from breakfast in our jeans and 21st century getup to dressing. I found my outfit – not the lovely open and flowing robes of some, but 3 heavy layers of grey, plus a tight-fitting headdress.

By the time I left the dressing room, the world had transformed. I walked past a gladiator dressed for battle, a fat senator in his white robes, and a bunch of Nubians in their colourful outfits. I had time-travelled back 2000 years.

It totally reminded me of one of my old-time favourite movies – the original Jesus Christ Superstar movie (1973). At the start of the movie with the opening credits, the cast arrives on an old bus in their 1970s daily gear – hippie clothes, flared jeans and long hair. Then they re-emerged as their movie parts, transformed by 2,000 years.

It felt like that to me. I had been transported back in time. Morocco and 2023 no longer existed. In spite of mobiles and modern makeup and a comfortable bus, I was transported back to 211AD.

The Second Surprise

The filming was at Ait Ben-Haddou. You would already know it, if you’re a Game of Thrones fan. It is the red city in the background of many scenes and photos, used also in other movies, about half an hour by bus from Ouarzazate studios, and worth a visit if you’re nearby.

Ait BenHaddou - typical village in southern Morocco, and location used for Game of Thrones, Gladiator, and other movies.

It is just one of many villages like it in the area – built up a small hillside in red stones It isn’t even the most spectacular of them, but it is the one which has been made into the tourist destination, and famous in our movies and TV series.

Now, picture this. A mob from ancient Rome stepping off modern Moroccan buses, and walking across the dry river bed to the old city. It is the classic crowd gathering for games and gladiator fights in the Colosseum.

They reconstructed the arena from the original Gladiator movie 20 years earlier. I may not have had a chance to explore Ait Ben-Haddou, but I had two days sitting in that arena staring up at it, between bouts of screaming and cheering while I watched Paul Mescal act out the fight scenes in the arena – over and over again.

And I’m telling you – that man worked hard! I watched men dressed as apes, and act like apes, “tearing apart” the gladiators, while I screamed at them to do worse to “the barbarians” disgraced by defeat in Rome’s latest military triumph. And now I have seen those scenes put together in the movie, released in 2024.

If you get a chance, visit Ait Ben-Haddou, wander through the old town, imagine what it used to be like. Maybe a local will also show you where Russell Crowe sat.

Painting of Ait BenHaddou by artist Noel_Bensted (Instagram)

The Third Surprise

It may have been only June, but down south on the borders of the Sahara it was starting to warm up. This is a part of Morocco that typically goes up into the high 50s through the summer.

I am an Aussie. I finished high school in a small town on the edge of the Western Plains of NSW. Through summer many days went up to 40 and more. As a school kid, I thought the best part was that we got an extra week of holiday at the end of the summer for being in the hot zone.

A surprised kangaroo in Canberra

I even worked outdoors through a heatwave, as a meter reader in Canberra (reading electricity, gas and water meters). After a winter trip to San Francisco in January 2019, I was feeling very broke. So when the other 24, smarter meter readers stopped working at 37 degrees, which is the legal level in Australia, I kept saying yes to more work. I walked outside for 11-hour days, 6 days a week, for 3 weeks – in 42 degrees.

And that was hot!

So I understand 42 degrees.

I don’t mind temperatures in the mid-30s when I am wearing singlets and shorts, or better still, in my swimmers at the beach or a pool. But my outfit was hot.

This was only in the mid-30s, quite comfortable for the south.

They were needing the crowd to be spread around the arena, and kept telling me to stay put in my spot. I ended up sitting in the sun for several hours

I ended up sitting in the sun for hours. And remember, my grey outfit was hot. I had 3. Heavy. Layers. Of dress. Plus a tight fitting and heavy headdress, with a ‘veil’ that covered from my shoulders to my waist.

I thought I was ok. Soldier on, I thought.

A girl had got heatstroke and been taken to hospital in very bad shape. Heatstroke might just sound like feeling hot and maybe fainting, but it is in fact very serious. It means your organs are starting to shut down in the body’s efforts to cool you. Detail it

But I was fine. After all, I was from Australia.

Suddenly my Aussie friend comes over. She grabs my arm and physically pulls me up and moves me.

‘You are moving. Now!’

I look at her. “I’m fine,” I insist.

‘No, you’re not. You are weaving.’

I blink in surprise. I had no idea. In fact I think I had blanked out. Plus there was another thing I knew about my friend. She was a nurse. She told me that I was within 10 minutes of full-on heatstroke.

So I let her move me to the shade, and sat with extra bottles of water.

I am normally that one who sits in the sun all day, then looks for more sun at the end of the day. This time I found that for the next rest of the next two days the sun made me feel unpleasant.

Some of the extraordinary colour contrasts near Ouarzazate.

The Fourth Surprise

Did I mention that the movie was Gladiator II. It is a Ridley Scott movie.

And I got within spitting distance of Riddley Scott!

There is a clear hierarchy with movies, especially the big ones. As a movie extra you’re not even at the bottom of the hierarchy – you’re under it. Much to my disappointment on my first movie, extras don’t even get a listing in the credits.

And the director is at the top of the pecking order. Actually, the AD, or assistant director actually is – they’re the only ones who can actually tell the director what to do. The director is usually around the camera end of the action. But they do need to move around at times, sizing up a scene and rearranging things.

So, I was stoked to find Riddley Scott standing at my elbow. And beneath me in the arena. And in front of me in the market place. While he sorted some of the scenes.

And he wasn’t the only one. The payoff of those hours in the sun slowly succumbing to heatstroke was that I got to watch Paul Mescal in all his fight scenes in the arena.

I watched the actors in green suits act like monkeys, so to speak – actually, vicious apes tearing at the gladiators, while I screamed for blood and cursed like any good Roman woman would have.

That fellow is a very hard worker. While I’m complaining about sitting in the sun, he is in the arena – also in full sun – going through the movie’s various fight scenes.

Now I’ve watched the movie, and had the thrill of seeing all those scenes being put together in its final form. All to the backdrop of the amazing village of Ait Ben-Haddou.

Painting of Ait BenHaddou by Noel Bensted. More on Instagram account Noel_Bensted.

The Fifth Surprise

I GOT TO SCREAM AT DENZEL WASHINGTON!!!

As a senator he appeared in the box and made a short speech. The audience had to cheer him – but it was quite clear nobody was cheering an announcement from a senator at a gladiator fight. We were all cheering for Denzel Washington.

 One of the great treats of the southern part of Morocco is the BBQ steak houses. As far as I can tell, they don’t do anything special with the meat – but the BBQ still tastes amazing. So if you’re down that way, make sure to get one, especially if you can get one with the spectacular valley views at the north end of the High Atlas pass. It’s a kind of a factory assembly line, via three different shops to get your meal served.

Shop 1: First you go to the meat shop. You can actually point to the hanging carcass and point to the bit that you want. They hack it off and you pay for it by its weight.

Shop 2: Then you take it to the next shop which does the cooking. You leave it with them and take your number.

Shop 3: The actual restaurant. Find a seat next door with the panoramic views of the valley. Order your salads and tea. The bread is brought as a part of the meal. When your meat is cooked, they bring it to you.

And I am telling you, whatever their tricks are, that was one of the best meals I’ve had in Morocco. Yes, the tajines are very nice, but the BBQ assembly-line at the edge of the valley beat it hands down!

Happily satisfied – and tired out from two 15 hour days – we settled for the long trip back to Tangier, daydreaming about rubbing shoulders with Riddley Scott, and screaming at Denzel Washington.

Road of 1000 Kasbahs, Atlas Mountains

14th June 2023

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Hollywood Morocco, Here I come!

Hollywood Morocco, here I come!

18th May, 2023

Yes, it sounds like the big time. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. As with all overnight success stories, it takes 10s of 1000s of hours of time, learning, practice etc to achieve. Becoming an actor, let alone a star, or even anybody involved in the movie industry - perhaps even more so than the rest.

But sometimes you can find a niche.

There is a huge industry in Morocco for foreign movies filming here. Anything that’s set in the Middle East – in fact, much more than that – Morocco is currently the biggest go-to place.

It has the look. The government has had the smarts to keep the paperwork within reason (the problem that has taken Egypt out of the picture – once the go-to). Morocco is politically stable, got the infrastructure needed, and a lot cheaper than many places. And it offers much more ‘look’ than just desert scenery. It has sea, mountains – even snow, as well as ancient urban mazes, traditional markets, and deserted landscapes which also fit with a lot of fantasy imagery and action adventure scenarios.

Ait Ben-Haddou. Famously Game of Thrones filmed here, but it is only one of many.

As a result for example, we have all become familiar with the spectacular ghost city of Ait Ben-Haddou, the red desert city in Game of Thrones.

Detail by a friend, artist @Noel_Bensted on Instagram.

It is near Ouarzazate and surrounded by desert, a few hours south of Marrakech.

The seaside ramparts used in Game of Thrones are in Essaouira on the coast south of Casablanca.

And there are many movies filmed in the medinas of Tangier, Fes, and the other cities, or in the Rif mountains. There are James Bond 007 movies, Jason Bourne, Indiana Jones, Inception, Gladiator, Troy, the Mummy movies, Sex and the City…. Even a scene from Mamma Mia!

And if they need non-Moroccans for a crowd scene in these non-Moroccan movies, I’m part of a limited supply! No acting skills required.

When a movie comes up, I make myself available. So when they said they had some filming in Ouarzazate, I jumped. It even worked out perfectly time-wise – they wanted us in Ouarzazate for fittings for Thursday and Friday, exactly my 2 free days between classes. Down on the Thursday, fittings and return on the Friday, before teaching all day on Saturday.

Oh – did I happen to mention that my blogs are mostly about my misadventures?

So Wednesday I’m organizing myself before my afternoon class, and look up the hours. We are to meet at 9am for the bus.

And I realise that Ouarzazate is quite a long way away. By car from Tangier (which is right up at the top) it’s 9 ½ hours – so a bus must take 10 to 15 hours. That means we will get there… possibly as late as midnight.

No problem. I think.

The fittings are to be in the morning til midday on Friday. Presuming they give us lunch first, a 2pm departure means…

…Oh…

…possibly getting back as late as 5am on Saturday morning.

I have to get to school for classes by 8:30am.

But… that should still work.

Knowing that scheduling is a nightmare with movies and constantly changing because there are so many variables, I leave my teaching books at school – just in case – I don’t have the chance to get home before my class, and make sure I have an extra scarf so I’m dressed suitably for the classroom. You know – cover the shoulders and the knees.

All should be good. Leaving at 2pm I’ll be back somewhere between midnight and 5am – enough time for a couple of hours of sleep before school.

Tangier Bay at sunrise.

Thursday

9am

We all gather as asked by 9, though the bus doesn’t come til 10. That was probably planned – to make sure latecomers didn’t delay their plans. While scheduling constantly varies, this does not mean they are not well planned. I find them phenomenally well organized, especially by Moroccan standards.

10am

So off we go – arrival time surely between 10pm and midnight somewhere.

11am

An hour down the road we make a pitstop at Asilah on the beach – coffee break for half an hour. I’ve never been there before, and looking around the streets I make a note to come back – a great looking little medina behind the old town walls.

It turns out that there is a problem. The clothing hasn’t yet turned up, so the pitstop is a wait to confirm whether we continue.

Or go back to Tangier.

Damn. This timing was perfect. But hey-ho.

1pm

After a good couple of hours they call us back to the bus. All is good to go!

So off we go again. I do a quick mental check – we should be there… around midnight or so.

I run to the bus – and something snaps behind my heel, somewhere around my achilles tendon…

In agony I hobble onto the bus. Turns out a long day sitting still on a bus is perfect – I’m resting my foot and it gets less painful through the day.

2am

The trip in the end – not counting the long stop in Asilah – was 14 hours, finishing with a lot of very bendy, bumpy dirt roads, as far as my sleep haze could tell.

By the time we are sorted into rooms it is after 2. Beautiful hotel – pool and bar – if only there was time to enjoy it. But my foot still sore and the hour makes it too much to go back down for a swim.

If only this was the hotel we'd stayed at for the actual movie shoot. I can't help but suspect this was a bit of a sales pitch to make sure we'd do the trip again...

They want us again at 6:30. I set my alarm for 5.30 – 3 hours sleep and just enough time for a swim before breakfast. The realist in me also sets my alarm for 6am.

I reassess the time. If we leave at 2pm the following day, 14 hours will get us back to Tangier around 4am. I nod to myself. That’s doable. I would get another 3 hours of sleep before teaching all day.

Friday

5:30am

My alarm goes. I hit the dismiss.

6am

I drag myself out for a quick breakfast, and off to the bus for the studios and the fitting.

By day, the pool and reception area of the Tirika Hotel.

Daylight now, I peer out at the still sleeping streets of Ouarzazate – the most I will see of it because movie days are very long. A red town just like Marrakech. Pretty. The buildings nod sleepily at me from their neat formation along the streets. They’re far from ready to greet the day yet, much like me. I wonder how it will look when they wake up.

Ouarzazate is an Amazigh or Berber word. These are the original peoples of the region, spread through Morocco, Algeria and Tunisia, and parts of Mali, Niger and Mauritania – all isolated from the rest of Africa by the Sahara. “Ouar” means without, and “zazate” means noise.

The city is also sometimes called “Gateway of the Sahara” or “Door to the Desert”.

The town has more than 7 kasbahs – which are fortified castles – including Ait Ben-Haddou. The biggest one, Kasbah Taourirt, was built in the 1600s.

About half an hour out of Ouarzazate Ait Ben-Haddou – the one of Game of Thrones fame – is a ksar, which is a collection of earthen homes with high walls for protection. In other words, it is a traditional pre-Saharan village.

Then there it is! Just 5 km out of town, the Hollywood of Morocco.

CLA Studios.

Atlas Film Studios, built by Moroccan entrepreneur Mohamed Belghmi in 1983. Movie sets include the prop plane used in Jewel of the Nile, and Egyptian tomb statues used in a myriad of movies.

I look around me.

It is absolutely nothing like Hollywood. Because this is not Hollywood – a detail which doesn’t bother me one bit. Because I’d never be standing in front of the original Hollywood except as a tourist.

Up the hill along the side of the studios is nothing but open ground, dry ground leading off across a desert plain to the mountains, beautiful to be sure – a hazy red backdrop. The main road runs off in either direction past nothing except for the hotel and service station across the road.

I have to add a note here - I had my phone on the wrong camera setting - it was this weird effect, or cheat and use a file photo... 

No palm trees. No Los Angeles hills. No ritzy cars.

But I love it.

This is the Morocco Hollywood – do they call it Mollywood? Is 34 movies released in 2023 glitzy enough to rate such a label?

The biggest film producers in the world are India, courtesy of the biggest world population - a ready made huge viewing market. This is followed by Nigeria, and the USA – Bollywood, Nollywood, then Hollywood. After the billions in China and India, the USA has the next largest population, of 345 million. The next few with over 200 million include Nigeria with 233 million.

Statistics are hard to determine depending on how each country counts it, but typically the annual number of films made are around 1200 for India, 900 for Nigeria and 800 for the USA, with China coming in with over 700.

Add to that the rising star - South Korea, which includes a production which came to Tangier. It’s annual releases have jumped by 81% over the past 6 years!

But here, we’re not talking about local production. We’re talking about where foreign movies do their filming, or at least a part of it. And that is a significant market.

I take a deep breath and step through the side gate.

Of course, the day is not going to have any of that glamour we normally associate with movies. We are led to a huge white tent, stand around in the warming sun waiting to go in, sit around foldup tables waiting for our turn, move to another area and wait some more.

That is what movies are all about.

But they seem to be moving through us decently. Fittings til midday, we’d been told. Lunch, then off at 2pm – 14 hours and back in Tangier around 4am…

All is looking good.

Just 3 of us left – we’ll be finished soon.

12:30pm

Then they send us back out. The costume people are taking a break.

But there are just three of us, and we have a long way back to Tangier… They are firm.

So we have lunch first, and wait. I mentally push the departure time out by an hour – say 5am back in Tangier. I nod to myself. That’s still ok. Just a couple of hours’ sleep, but that’s better than nothing. Then time for something to eat, and head to school by 8:30.

And we wait.

2pm

Finally they call us. Just three fittings – surely just an hour.

When they took their break we couldn’t understand why they didn’t just fit the last three of us and be done. But it’s not as straight forward as that. They have trouble with my outfit – I must have tried on 30 different robes – that of itself is a solid hour of time.

As I put on each outfit I measure up how hot it would be. It’s a hot day, and the filming days in June promise to be another 5 degrees hotter – up in the mid to high 30s, possibly even more. We are after all on the edge of the Sahara. I see that the other two seem to have three layers each. Most of my robes are nice and cool. Until the last one…

I end up with three layers of thick heavy cloth, plus a tight fitting, heavy and hot headpiece with a thick veil… On filming days that swimming pool at the hotel will be heaven.

The fittings are a step back in time by 2000 years, and every detail has to be right. Once they are happy, the boss and the boss’s boss have their input, alter details, and give their final seal of approval, I am sent off to hair and makeup.

I am lucky. Mine is quick. I also realize how lucky we’d been that they took a break before us. Costumes are not allowed out of the costume area. No photos, no costumes allowed out, we are checked in and out of every tent… – in fact they still haven’t announced who the big actors are to be. Any leaks could mean huge revenue loss. So the ones who were already part way through their fittings when it hit the costumers’ lunch time break had had to wait in the costume area without food for that whole time. At least we had been able to eat!

Then there are photos for consistency. Photos of head and shoulders, hair and makeup. Photos of the whole outfit.

Then back through for makeup removal. Back through hair-undo. And back into costume undress.

4pm

Finally we are out. Another quick mental check – that would make it 6am back in Tangier.

Well, at least I wouldn’t be late for school. That also allows for a quick power nap before I’d have to get up to get ready for my full day of teaching. Another hour later and I’d get no sleep. Another hour onto that and I’d have 3 hours of 6 year olds on an empty stomach. But at least I wouldn’t be late for my class.

But wait – only 2 of us are out. One is still in hair and makeup. It is then that I hear of another who had had a wig made, the process in hair taking a full 2 hours.

I sit back with a bottle of water. Hey-ho. There’s nothing I can do about it but wait.

And wait.

And wait.

6pm

The last one finally emerges from the fitting rooms.

14 hours of bus ride, no more mishaps, and that made Tangier 8am. Down to half an hour to grab some pastries, a quick coffee at a café – not even time to go home.

But at least I would make it.

We jump on the bus, it pulls out from the studio…

…and crosses the road to the service station.

I guess that was a smart move – toilets, and supplies. I grab myself not one, but two icecreams, a drink and some nuts.

6:30pm

Finally the bus pulls out. I would have to be happy with just grabbing some pastries in the morning. Let’s hope there are no further delays in the trip home.

And this is where the surprises start. This time, this part of the trip is in daylight. The desert scenery is spectacular - to say the least.

The magnificent hills and breathtaking landscape leaving Ouarzazate.

The whole area has dozens of these tiny but amazing villages, some even more spectacular than the Ait Ben-Haddou. It has just been turned into a tourist village because it is deserted.

This one is in ruins, but the area around Ouarzazate is covered in similar villages to Ait Ben-Haddou. There is another in the background of this photo, on the right.

The sudden splashes of green oasis, with the stark and beautiful red villages climbing the hills, the area was quite startling. There are so many amazing places in the world, and most of them we have never even heard of.

Yet another delightful village. Down here the building tops are geometrically squared like mini castles.

But the biggest surprise was yet to come.

The road in the middle of the night had been indeed windy. Now, still daylight, I got to see why.

And wowow!!!

I have seen photos of spectacular roads like this. I’ve even been on one – well, to be honest that’s all I can claim. I came through the Swiss Alps in January of 2020. I still have to take everyone’s word for how spectacular it is. I had my nose glued to the bus window the whole way, did not sleep a wink – but it was a very, very dark, moonless night!!!!

But this one is in daylight.

Within the top 10 of the worlds most windy roads, there are actually 2 of these in Morocco! 

It starts with valleys, a tiny river running through it – a creek or a stream, really. It is a long way from being grown up enough to be called a river. The base of the valley is a verdant green for maybe 500 metres across. Then the green just stops. It doesn’t fade. It’s like a line drawn, the rubber or eraser used to clean off all the green outside the lines.

And past the green? The pale steep hillsides rising with no vegetation on them, then in the distance the beautiful red haze of mountains I’d seen from Ouarzazate.

The valley gets steeper, the views more spectacular, then the road runs into those switchbacks that places like Switzerland, the Kyber Pass in Pakistan, and places in the Andes are famous for.

Why is this one not shown within these photos? Again I have happened upon yet another incredible and amazing part of the world.

8:30pm

We are still south of Marrakech which is 7 ½ hours of driving to Tangier, plus stops. Assuming no mishaps.

But first, the dinner stop – a final spin on the trip.

At the tail end of the valley we stop at a restaurant with some amazing views and sunset across the valley. But this is not a restaurant to sit and order.

First we have to go to the butcher next door. We point out our meat of choice – I choose some sate kebab sticks, 2 beef, one chicken and one liver (when it’s a regular feature, added to my childhood on sheep and cattle farms, I’ve come to enjoy this particular bit of insides).

But neither they nor the restaurant do the cooking.

We have to go to the next shop which has a huge charcoal grill. They take our meat and do the cooking.

Heading back to the restaurant we walk past a bread shop – big flat loaves that are freshly baked in a big charcoal oven, a speciality, and smelling divine. But no – don’t collect your bread there. Don’t go past go. Don’t collect $200. Go directly to…

…the restaurant, choose your table and enjoy the dying sunset views across that amazing valley.

When it is ready, the meat and bread are brought. This is definitely a worthwhile stop. If only I had marked where it was!

Plus the perfect end to such a Moroccan meal - mint tea! And yes - that’s a giant sugar cube. You break off what you want and put it in, together with the dried spearmint it is sitting on. Pour the tea into your glass from a height. Repeat. This mixes the sugar, because that’s so much more fun than using a teaspoon.

10pm

Still south of Marrakech. Google maps says 7 ½ hours driving from there – plus stops. Will I be back in time for work? Is it time to start thinking how to explain that I’m accidentally in Marrakech? We have to still be a good 8 hours from Tangier.

6am will mean a short nap.

7am will mean a run for some breakfast since I have nothing at home at the minute.

8am will mean pastries…

Any later and I will have a hungry tiring morning of teaching overly energetic 6 year olds…

Saturday

6:30am

The return trip has only taken 12 hours. I guess the downhill from the Rif Mountains near Ouarzazate was faster than the way up. I have time to rush home, say hello to Spain across my sea view, freshen up with a quick shower and head for breakfast and coffee to kickstart the day. Then off to school where I will be all day.

Dawn and back in Tangier.

 But I’m not one to be sensible, and so there is a tiny postscript. You would think that a 12 hour overnight bus trip followed by a full day of teaching and I would have done the sensible thing and gone home to sleep when school was over at 7pm. But I don’t do sensible very well. I find these particular classes so draining that I need to re-energise. That for me means company. And I still have to sort some dinner plan for myself – cooking is not one I am keen on at that point.

So a typical Tangier evening follows – by which I mean, nothing happens as expected.

5 minutes after I sit down at home, a friend messages me to meet for coffee, telling me to get some chicken on the way – we’ll cook at his place, he says. This of course translates to “I am to cook, because he has had such a busy day of work”. But I’m used to my friend’s quirks by now.

And of course, I end up cooking, not just for the two of us – that’s rare – but a party of 5. Some rice cooked absorption method, coloured with turmeric and filled with diced garlic, onion and carrots, the chicken baked in the oven with a range of Moroccan spices, and a fresh salad.

The evening then progresses into a party – it is after all a Saturday night. I make it home after daylight.

Maybe tonight I will sleep.

Part 2 to come - which movie was I willing to go all the way to Ouarzazate for?

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A Schizophrenic Lady - Coffee and Camels in Marrakech

Mohamed lifts a small silver teapot til it’s a metre above a tiny glass and pours a steaming spout of tea into the glass in front of me. Not a drop is spilt. But it never is.

This is how tea is served, especially in the south. With a flourish.

Pouring tea, Moroccan style in the south

And then the tea….

In Morocco fresh mint is added to the tea. It’s sweet, drunk in a glass, and absolutely divine. Most countries think their own brand is the best, especially when it comes to food. But with tea, all these tea drinking countries across northern Africa agree: Moroccan tea is the best.

But this one…

The mint is a different variety, tastes more like spearmint rather than peppermint – I believe it’s called verbena. It is refreshing. It is to die for!

So…

What is Marrakech?

The train – just over 5 hours from Tangier – makes its way through barren fields of stones pockmarked with small scrubby bushes. How does anyone make a living out of this? Instead of tourists it used to be the camel trains laden with goods for sale. Marrakech was the first significant town heading north from the Sahara. Always a trading outpost.

I imagine being hot and dusty, plodding through this on a camel train after crossing the Sahara. I wonder what I might be thinking.

My town of Tangier is a tumble of white buildings. Fes is an intriguing maze of old medina streets. Chefchaouen is blue.

Marrakech is red.

Red city walls, red gateways, red buildings, and red spatters of dust on unwashed cars. By red I mean the lovely warm terracotta colour of almost every building and construction. Even the dusty streets seem red.

One of the 16 gates on the city wall. Even the road looks kind of red.

After an evening of the best tajine so far in Morocco (a stew of meat and vegetables – this one a lamb and prune one) – on the rooftop of the Café des Épices restaurant, and another excellent breakfast spread of Moroccan flatbreads, yoghurt, fresh cherries, olives and omelette, wonderful as the mint tea is I am craving a good coffee, and I’ve been told of a place that is not to be missed. El Bacha museum and coffee shop.

Tea on the rooftop of Dar Ben Youssef hostel - a part of the welcome everywhere.

I set out with my friend Ljiljana.

In a medina, wrong turns are the treasures. Every meandering street in this maze has another surprise. Marrakech especially is full of foundouks – old inns or caravanserai.

Shops with carpets and other goods now reside in the old dormitories and rooms of the foundouks.

Now used for the dozens of little shops – beautiful boxes in metal, ivory and wood, silver and copperware so shiny they could do for a mirror, a kettle on its own little stand of coals, rugs and clothes hanging in gay ceremony from the balconies.

Freestanding copper kettle, the bottom half is a brazier for the coals to keep it hot.

A foundouk is a grand courtyard ringed with a two storey columned balcony. The massive wooden gate, which can be studded or carved, is big enough to allow through the camels and all their various sizes of carts and baggage.

When closed, these doors contain smaller people sized ones set within them – and often with a good lip maybe one foot high to step over (to keep out the mischievous djinn).

View into a foundouk just setting up its shops for the day. We are looking through the small door which is open, in one half of its huge pair of wooden doors, these ones studded.

Once inside the camels inhabit the huge central courtyard, a series of rooms and dormitories opening off the surrounding balcony. The doorman proudly tells me that this one has been here since the 6th century, even before Islam arrived (two centuries later).

A foundouk, showing the courtyard where the camels rested. The doors on the balcony and downstairs were rooms.

All I can think of is the smell – hot camels and fresh camel dung, especially if the aromas at the various horse and carriage stalls around Jemaa el-Fnaa Square are anything to go by.

Marrakech transport - donkey and cart. It did not look as if the wealth flowing into the medina from tourists also flowed outside the medina to the rest of Marrakech.

What a fun job that must have been – shovelling up the piles of camel dung each day.

But we still have our mission – our hunt for coffee.

Retracing our wrong turns we are back on the right direction for el Bacha. (said Basha, the French way, like Marrakesh). We pause in front of a man sitting on the ground. He fixes a stick on a spinner which he holds firm with his toes, spins it moving a string bow backwards and forwards with one hand, his other guides a chisel.

I watch to see what he is doing. The stick transforms, taking on a life of its own as the man deftly creates indents and ridges.

Manipulating the stick between his toes and his chisel in one hand, spinning it via a string bow in the other, he carved out the pendent in about a minute.

A moment later he has carved a wooden ring spinning freely around the stick.

Fascinated with his dexterity and finesse, I watch the magic before my eyes. Within seconds he creates a smooth and beautiful little wooden token, similar to his chess pieces.

4-5cm long, a free spinning ring in the middle, he did this in about 60 seconds, using his toes as easily as his fingers.

With a flourish he finishes, adds a hole and a thread, and I now have a new pendant hanging around my neck which I think is exceptional in its beauty.

Each of us with our new pendants, Ljiljana and I retrace our steps yet again – since this was another mistaken street and we still have our coffee to find.

A few more corners and wrong turns…

Another typical red street in Marrakech - an unlabeled door set in a blank red wall - no clues to what I am about to find.

I n the blank street wall there is a doorway with steps leading down. They are steep and don’t seem to be leading anywhere.

On the near side of the red wall on the ordinary street, these steps seem to be leading down to nowhere.

Curiosity gets the better of me. I peer around the corner. An old man grins at me and explains.

Hammam.

This part of the world (too – because Japan and Russia have theirs as well) has a bath culture. Those details for another time, but the locals will have a hammam bath at regular intervals – once or twice a month to clean their skins and refresh their souls.

As I nod in understanding the old man invites me down to look. I negotiate the steps which feel precarious, taking me down into a deadend. My mind slips to documentaries on Jack-the-Ripper and serial killers – I’ve seen far too many!

Feeding the fire with wood shavings (not dead bodies, as I had feared)

But this man is in charge of keeping the hammam fires stoked to heat the water and rooms of the hammam.

At the bottom of those steps, the man checks his fire.

In Marrakech there is an added curiosity, a local stew called tanjia. The meat is slow cooked in a terracotta pot for 4 to 5 hours, brought from the home to the hammam to sit in the ashes and be collected later.

Two clay pots which will be collected in a few hours for dinner by their respective households.

He pulls aside a cover to show me the red hot ashes into which the pots will be put to cook - beef slow cooked in preserved lemons, and spices like ginger, cumin and ras al hanout, the original crockpot.

Around the corner in the deadend, instead of Jack-the-Ripper’s collection of bodies I find a bunch of clay pots sitting in ashes waiting for their designated time in the furnace where they will cook for 4-5 hours before being collected. I tried one - it was yum!

Retracing our steps yet again we continue on our quest for the coffee. This time we are successful.

The entranceway into El Bacha.

We arrive at El Bacha, a grand home built by an important official in the early 1900s and later restored, now used as a museum. The rooms and garden and architecture and intrinsically decorated ceilings are superb.

Looking out at the garden, taking a photo of Ljiljana taking a photo of me inside.

But the real treat is in the coffee shop itself.

The coffee menu is a book. The varieties of coffee worldwide with their descriptions three lines long, reading more like a somelier’s description on the back of a wine bottle.

View from inside the coffee shop, looking onto the courtyard where you can see just some of the yellow tins containing the coffee types and blends from all over the world on the shelves.

Rich rainforest fruits – depth of silky smooth dark chocolate – fruity bouquet with hint of almonds and apricots…

I choose the Montecristo, and Ljiljana the Rio Bravo.

The coffee comes in shining and elegant brass pots with whipped cream and delicate crystalised coffee sugar. The waiter pours from the long serpentine spouts with the same flourish as our breakfast tea, and we sit in the most glorious café-garden-courtyard for a sublime retreat from the chaos of Marrakech.

El Bacha coffee, ready for the cream, sugar and shavings of chocolate.

What is Marrakech?

Marjorelle Garden arbour bridge which leads across a pond - tranquil and calm haven within the chaos.

It is the amazing turquoise and azure garden of tranquility owned by Yves St Laurent, a small oasis of calm - with a very big entry fee.

We are hot and tired. As so many before us, we pay it. It looks cool and beautiful, and at least we can sit for a little.

Some have sat and played cards, chattered, or just rested. We circled the garden.

That was quick, I say.

Ljiljana just shrugs her shoulders. We haven’t had our money’s worth yet. Let’s go round again.

Doing anything but act our ages we reinvent the garden.

This frog is singing for us - there’s another 5 dirhams of value.

This arbour bridge is so pretty, I think we cross it three more times. There’s another 20 dirhams!

Again Marrakech has done the unexpected. The garden has become one of my favourite memories of Marrakech.

Marjorelle Garden pond, where we found the frog that sang for us.

What is Marrakech?

It is the Marjorelle Garden, the rabbit warren of hallways and small rooms which were once the Ben Youssef Madrasa – the biggest and most important Islamic school in Morocco built in the 14th century, a library and other buildings and museums with the most incredible ornate decorations.

In Morocco, remember, always look up!!

The detail in the carved marble in the Ben Youssef school courtyard is extraordinary.

It is the narrow and crowded alleyways of shops filled with everything, the bargaining for endless colours and items for sale – I buy earrings, something I can carry easily in my backpack. But I could choose carpets, cloth, clothes and daypacks, pottery, silverware and copperwork, antiques, leatherwork belts or bags, woodwork and magic boxes or chess sets…

It is also an endless stream of speeding motorbikes which zoom past, missing us by millimetres, shopowners demanding our attention as if we have offended them, crazy prices and scams. We learn to move just slowly enough to see things without having to stop and risk being caught by a repeated conversation demanding that we buy their goods.

And then there is Jemaa al-Fnaa square. A different animal by day and by night. The intensity of everything is at first a thrilling adrenalin buzz.

Jemaa Al-Fnaa Square. A photo doesn’t give you the piercing sound of the pipes of the snake charmers, the drums or the traditional gnawa music, the hubbub of people selling food and drinks, paintings and t-shirts and henna…

By mid afternoon the food stalls start going up, changing the face of the square – dozens of identical restaurants lined up like soldiers. Walking past them is a frenetic barrage of people jumping in front of us – You look hungry, eat here!

No, I’ve just eaten.

You look hungry, eat here! No, I’ve just eaten. You look hungry, eat here! No, I’ve just eaten. You look hungry, eat here! No, I’ve just eaten. You look hungry, eat here! No, I’ve just eaten.

On stopping at one on the first night, the food bought was marginal quality with inedible chips, small plates for mega prices, and extras like bread and olives – normally free extras in Morocco, but this time every single plate is charged for.

Even after this they “miscalculate” the bill and added 30 dirhams “by accident”.

What is Marrakech?

Now jaded we move through the square, frenetic in its energy. Snake charmers with cobras and pipes, monkeys on chains, the beautiful gnawa music which reminds me that I am indeed in Africa, but marred by the scowl when I don’t offer enough coins to suit him even though I give him 5 dirhams instead of the usual 1 or 2 that is standard. People jumping in my face from all directions.

A juice. 10 dirhams. Freshly squeezed. Two women jump in front of us so we can’t move – we do henna – we will ‘tattoo’ your hand for you by drawing traditional patterns in henna ink (which wears off in about 2 weeks).

No, thank you.

I am hot and just want a bit of quiet. There is a haven up ahead, the only place in the medina I am told which sells alcohol, Hotel Tazi. Sometimes a refreshing mint tea isn’t quite enough. I imagine a pleasant space for tourists, bar stools and music, an oasis in high demand. We need a little calm.

I try to get my purse to pay for the juice.

One of these women grabs my wrist and starts drawing with the henna.

The juice isn’t the 10 dirham one I asked for but a big one at double the price.

No, I say, I don’t want the henna just now. No fee she says, for free, and keeps drawing.

I pay for the juice, trying to grab a dropped 100dh note while dodging aorund the henna lady still gripping my arm.

Just give what you want, she says.

“No,” I say. “I said no.”

The orange juice is watered down

‘I have children to feed.’ She motions putting food to her mouth

Against my better judgement I give her a 10 dirham coin for the henna I didn’t want, and try to pull away.

She jumps back in my face.

‘That’s not enough. You’re stealing from me.’

I pull back. Now I am yelling. “I said no!”

The henna drips across my foot and sandal. My arm is covered in goo which is a childish scribble compared to the usual beautiful patterns. I am worried the sludge will stain my clothes

The two of us flee.

Sellers jump at us and yell in our faces. Cobras appear, monkeys sneeze and dance, people grab, whine, plead, whistle….

We make it to the bar. Rather than my imagined elegant oasis for tourists, It is an out-of-date club decorated to be more comfortable for those more interested in bingo and pokies.

But we have our beer, and I get a bottle of red. We brace ourselves for the trip back the hotel via Jemaa el-Fnaa Square.

Then after all the turmoil the chameleon that is Marrakech brings us an evening show. She puts on a lightning display across the night sky. We lie back under umbrellas on the rooftop of our riad with our wine and lazy chatter, to a backdrop of lightening and an occasional spatter of rain to cool the air. The calm returns to a beautiful night.

What is Marrakech?

The next day I am tired and it feels hotter – though it is only 36 degrees. Today Ljiljana has left. It is now just me. I do not feel like facing the square and the street sellers today. The shops and goods are an endless stream of feasting for the eyes, but the people and energy can be draining.

I make my way to an expensive hotel just outside the medina – El Fenn – elegant and beautiful. On the rooftop I order a chilled rosé, slip off my dress and slide into the small pool.

This is sublime. This is a piece of heaven

I wet my head and lie back. Peanuts and chili olives, chilled rosé and bucket of ice, soaking in the cool water, the heat the dust and the crazy dissolve in bliss.

This – the magnificent food, the frenetic square, the panorama of colours and sights and the assault on the senses, the intensity and rawness of life, the silly fun in beautiful garden oases, the motorbikes and henna scammers and the glorious and detailed architecture, endless surprises, the pockets of tranquility.

 Marrakech is all of this.

There is something about the place which is pure magic. It has probably always been some version of this since it has always been a market town and trade centre.

It is crazy and it is magnificent. It is every bit as exotic as it sounds – an outpost on the edge of the Sahara.

It is not a place to be bypassed.

A statue through the doorway of a hotel I passed.

Come Walk with Me in Tangier

I remember the first time I walked up this street in Tangier.

It seemed like such a strange street, so steep and narrow with its kink in the middle - cars parked, people everywhere, a myriad of tiny shops that I still hadn’t learned to make sense of.

That was over two years ago now. Since then I’ve been away, stuck in London during the first covid lockdowns, roamed some more through the summer, and stuck again in London.

But I’ve been back in Tangier now for nearly a year, and the street has become a familiar one. I walk up and down it at least twice most days. It is the street where I now live.

The treasure of living at the top of a hill – at the top of one side of a little valley – is that both leaving and returning home are a good uphill exercise. An excellent way to get fit and keep losing weight. But the first time up is one that everyone remembers.

Stepping out with confidence quickly becomes a laboured journey of gasping for breath, burning lungs and aching leg muscles – a quick glance up because surely you are nearly there – only to see that the landmark still seems miles away. The first time I even had the added value of a 20kg backpack. I very quickly learnt that the best way up was slowly, to focus on one foot at a time, to let my feet eat their way up the road at their own pace.

Now, of course, I step out with confidence all the way to the top – a quiet little inner smirk at the tourists labouring their way up it for the first time, on their way to the gate to the kasbah – the old fortified castle at the top of the old medina (town centre) – where i live.

I have lived in many amazing places, but let me tell you about this street where I live now.

I often have breakfast on my rooftop where I have an amazing view of the bay in the morning haze. Today a little fog is whispering across it under the chill morning sun.

As I turn the 360 degrees I have a view of the old city and its tumble of white buildings which cascade on top of each other, crenelated castle tops and wooden viewing platforms, painted from this very spot where I am now standing by a close and talented friend.

Artist friend Noel Bensted, work in progress on our rooftop - a remarkable eye for detail of the old buildings of Morocco and Senegal and the amazing people who live here. Please take a look at his other works on his site. My favourite is the Senegalese with the bright pants - or maybe the one outside the Thieves’ Market in Fes…

https://www.instagram.com/noel_bensted/?hl=en

Noel Bensted, Senegalese man, 2021

Then there is the kasbah itself, its unpainted stone walls rising to the highest point. I keep turning to take in the view across to the mosque – the building which by law must be the highest point in town, and back around to the Boulevarde, the spot where I am headed today.

I have sat many nights on this rooftop watching the seagulls looking like ghost birds gliding in their own party in the dark sky, lit up only from beneath by the lights from the kasbah, flitting in and out of view. I danced under them to Arabic music always somehow engaging, a magical full moon above the bay, a slight sea breeze across my forehead and just enough to shift my hair.

Tangier Bay at night

But now it is day, a crisp and sunny winter one – maybe 17 degrees, though it feels colder than the 15 degrees I was used to in Australia.

I’m am about to head down the stairs to the street but I pause. The doleful muezzin prayer call has just started. First one, then another, until I can now hear all of them competing across the air space above Tangier singing their respective prayers.

Because this is what you expect a pharmacy to look like

Once downstairs I call out s’bah lkher to the man I buy emergency supplies from. He will load me up with half a dozen words in Darija (Moroccan Arabic). One or two I have a chance of remembering, but more than that and I forget them all. So today I keep going – the dog on the rooftop three floors above him tucks his paws over the edge and barks twice.

I march my way down the hillside, past the cats. And the cafés and restaurants and little shops, breathe in the glorious smell of the bakery which sells biscuits made from almonds. And doorways that seem to be everywhere, inviting me to wonder about their worlds as I pass by.

A bread shop part way down

I prefer the road. I find it easier than negotiating the steps. But I must step aside when a car comes up – usually in a gear too low. Then one comes up with its pedal flat to the floor.

Some are like this – a notion of right of way. It flies past, missing me and several kids pouring out from the blue and white junior high school by less than inches. At least he’s going the right way up this one-way street. Many scooters come down, coasting and silent so you don’t even know they are there.

Street art - colourful electricity meters on a local juice shop with rooftop terrace dining.

Did I mention that road rules here are just a suggestion? People and cars weave between each other. I’m actually impressed at how few accidents I’ve seen, considering this. But I’ll admit, crazy as their driving is, they are more vigilant than I’d say an Aussie counterpart is.

In spite of my bumbling to learn the I’ve only actually been ‘hit’ once. A typical scenario. A parked car, another grounding its gears on its way up the hill past it, three of us pedestrians in the almost non-existent space left between all this. But the young lad on his scooter feels that he has such a great need to keep going that he squeezes his way between us.

It was a glancing blow to my hand – not even enough to cause a bruise – but I had my say when I passed him a minute later where he’d stopped on his ‘oh so urgent mission’, and was now slowly dismounting, he nodded and smiled at me to say it was all ok. I did a lot of yelling. And he nodded and smiled a bit more.

Because in the end, this is Morocco.

If we were to change everything here that was a bit annoying to our western minds, we would lose Morocco and end up with… just another Western country. And the whole reason we are here is because it’s not.

I stop of course at my café – one of my regulars. The café Colon – such an inglorious and popular name around Tangier. It actually has nothing to do with one’s health or bowel movements. It’s an abbreviation of Colombus. I have yet to discover why he is such an important person in Tangier, but half the hotels and cafes seem to be called Colon.

From Cafe Colon, the newly refurbished cinema and a music band

Mohamed brings my kahlwa hlip – make sure to clear your throat to make that ‘h’ sound. And at all costs, don’t mix the letters around and end up asking for some ‘milky balls’.

A glass with an inch of coffee on a saucer with four sugar cubes – yes, diabetes is a problem here. And a glass of water. The milk is poured with a flourish from a height. And it is always so hot. To perfection!

I sit with my café au lait, on the footpath lined up with everyone else, back to the wall and facing the street. When I was first here I couldn’t understand this. Why aren’t they even facing the friend they’ve come here to spend time with. How rude! My Australian brain chirps.

The other day I saw some tourists sit down around a table, some with their backs to the street. How odd, I think this time. How can they watch what’s passing by on the street that way. Here cafés aren’t just a place to meet with friends. They’re a national pastime. They have a rhythm. Even on a noisy street there is something meditative about sitting with your sweet mint tea or coffee and watching life as it passes.

I am about to pay and move on when there is a sudden screeching from the street. No - not a traffic emergency - a pipe player. The high pitched sound perhaps better suited to the open spaces of the desert and the mountains echoes across the high ceilings of Cafe Colon.

A little hungry now before my afternoon and evening classes, I drop into the very next shop – Abou Tayssir. We call it “The Syrian”. Run by a lovely pair – old friends now, three whole tables and a bench squeezed inside, it is a place of amazing food!!!! If by any chance you have followed me here, please drop in and say hello from me. Three dips with Lebanese bread, the most amazing borek pastries, superb shawarma kebabs if you want to keep it cheap or are on the run…

The film crew trucks of the movie I was almost in are not parked on the street today. They have been filming in the medina. And thankfully the roadworks are long over – an eye opener for us safety conscious westerners.

A game of dodge the biggest truck and watch that swinging digger. Fans of Bob the Builder, eat your heart out!

Now I need to keep going – on past the bread shop, the egg shop which is barely the size of a single bed. Most shops here are smaller than a standard garage and would not fit your car, some the size of a basketful of warm nuts and seeds.

There are two things I wonder about these tiny shoebox shops – How do they make a living out of such a tiny space? And how do they decide on their particular range of products, being that none of them are big enough to fit everything. Shopping is a matter of knowing who has what. This place always has rice and pasta. If I want tomato puree I need to go to the one further up . But first I will just have a chat to Bilal while I buy some of his chicken.

Literally the size of a single bed

At first this was daunting to me. How did I know how much something was, or if they even had it? Could I trust that they wouldn’t cheat me? Now I love these little shops. And I know that along this little strip, they are more likely to call out my name and chase after me to give me forgotten change.

Today I won’t visit café Jamaica – looking over the Grand Socco and its fountain, a tiny snippet of the sea visible from its rooftop terrace. And excellent coffee and mint tea, I might add. I’ve paid two and three times the money in fancy shops and only found some watery version – never a good investment. I’m also not going to Cinema Rif today – my current writing café. I have somewhere else to be.

Fountain at Grand Socco

I pass the man who is always on the street corner with a small upside-down box over his head. I haven’t yet figured whether he’s completely crazy, or it’s just a substitute sun hat. And I will never ask, because that would only destroy the charm of his existence.

As I approach the archway into the souk (marketplace) a smallish old fellow in a stripey blue djellaba comes up to me.

Wait – djellaba?

That’s the straight robe worn here a lot. It’s a remarkable piece of clothing. It goes on over everything. If you’re in need of a quick grab from the emergency shop it can even go on over your pyjamas. I mean, that has to be the deal of the century. Right?

And in the winter they are of a heavier weave and they pull up the hoods. Suddenly I’m walking around Tatooine from Star Wars with heaps of the Sandpeople – except they’re giant sandpeople.

Giant Sandpeople

So this smallish old fellow with a map of life wrinkled into his face comes up to me, and in a light bouncy voice he says – “Rice and fish, lovely bubbly.”

And then he is gone.  

Just like that.

The street is a constant string of openings. I have walked past some of these doors daily for months, and only realized last month that they’re not all shops – that some are doorways into a whole rabbit warren of indoor market places.

Not a construction site - the entrance to the markets

I walk into my ‘shopping centre’, Souk Bara – the tiny shops with more varieties of olives than I knew existed – I counted over 30 different types in one of these shoeboxes. Then there is the chicken and beef counters, the little place where I buy my soy sauce and nori, and then of course further down there are the ones hanging with intestines and spleens, goat’s heads and cow’s hoofs… yes, for dinner. Coming with an aroma that makes me hurry forwards to the one in the fish markets.

Through the fish markets and up the stairs towards my destination. I carry my spare one dirham coins in my hand to easily drop into the hands of one of the many beggars – always the old man who stands on the steps up to Jamaica. And some others I now recognize. The black lad with no legs below the knees. A mother with her baby, probably a refugee from the south. The 12 year old child who only wants the half eaten shawarma in my hand – which I give up easily. I have no idea how they survive. There is no social security here, just those willing to drop a dirham into their hand.

I make my way up past the El Minzah – a flashy hotel of another era. Since the 1930s it has hosted a huge range of famous people – Tom Hiddleston, John Malkovich, Kenzo, Yves Saint-Lauren, Winston Churchill, Jean Claude Van Damme… Tangier used to be a mecca for artists and creative people. I think the undercurrent is still there. I know so many people drawn to this place who are artists and fashion designers, musicians and movie people.

But I don’t visit the hotel for its amazing views of the bay, beautiful pool and fancy food. I have never eaten anything here. I use it as a convenient – and very pleasant – toilet stop.

And then of course, there is the Café de Paris.

For me it is like stepping into the movie Casablanca. It is of that era – again, the 1930s. It has the charm that evokes my images of Tangier before I came here – a sanctuary of memories. No wifi, laptops are banned. But it has coffee and the sweet mint tea that is claimed to be the best tea in all of northern Africa, even by non-Moroccans. As I pass, the waiters in their black and white vested penguin suits greet me by name.

And on top of all that, it is the setting of one of my favourite movies.

After my first visit to Tangier I rewatched the third of the Jason Bourne movies. The thrill of recognizing every single street scene in Tangier was only topped when I realized that the big café scene in the middle of the movie was at my very favourite of all Tangier cafés – at the Café de Paris.

Lined up to watch the street

And now I am here. My favourite spot in Tangier. A four year old is climbing on one of the canons. One of the ladies selling the hand henna art looks up hopefully. The shoe shine keeps on at his task – actually still a thing. It’s quite grand to sit with your shoes being cleaned.

But what I come here for is to look at Spain.

Some days the view is hazy but today it’s clear. The autumn-winter weather has much better visibility.

Not just another country, but a whole other continent.

Someone said to me – so your favourite spot in Tangier is where you can look at another country?

The white strip on the far shore is Tarifa, Spain.

Ah – you’ve missed the point. I’m from Australia where everywhere is remote. When you fly north from Sydney – to Hong Kong or Bali – you’re flying over Australia at jumbo jet speeds for four hours. This time I came west via Qatar – and I still hadn’t left Australia after 6 hours.

So yes. My favourite spot – not just because I love looking at the Mediterranean – but because the concept is so wild to me. From here I can stand and look at another country – another continent – just twenty miles away. I look at the white streak of Tarifa. I wonder what it was like for people who were here centuries ago who had never been over to Spain, for whom getting there wasn’t even an option.

Then I realise, I am one of them.

It is a mere 45 minute ferry ride and the easiest way to do a run to renew the three month tourist visa. Yet in my time here, even after a year, I have not been to Tarifa. I am as much stranded – covid stranded – possibly in some ways even more so – as those past generations who maybe stood in this same spot looking across the sea.

It is a good thing for me that it’s a place I am happy to be stuck in.

The Blue City

A Day Trip from Tangier

Morocco’s Blue City

Chefchaouen

Is it really blue?

I’ve now visited twice – a longer stay in 2019 when I first arrived in Morocco, probably still getting over jet lag, a flight of 30 hours from Canberra/Sydney to London (including stop in Qatar), flight to Tangier and job interviews.

As it turns out, that first visit when I was intending to stay at least a year, fixed with year-long job and flat contracts and good prospects – well, one of the things about Tangier is that you never know what is going to happen. In that case, just after arrival everything fell apart. After two months I was packing my bags again and heading off to Europe and to get stuck in London for covid.

But my brief stay in Tangier did include a trip to Chefchaouen. (said shef-show-en)

Is it really blue? Like you wouldn’t believe!!! It is a treasure trove of photos to impress your most reticent great uncle.

No colour filters. This is what it actually looks like!

In the old medina – the maze of streets and alleyways in the old part of town – the bottom two metres of all the buildings are painted blue (to just above head height).

At least.

In some areas the whole wall is painted blue. Sometimes even the street you are walking on!

With slightly varying shades, with shadows on the walls, and steps which disappear up and out of sight and around corners – an invitation to all adventurers whose curiosity demands they explore to find out what is next along that pathway, just out of sight.

The blue pales in the sunshine in some spots, deepens like the sea in others catching the shadows, and reflecting back on itself for yet another shade. It is all kept fresh by a painting fiesta every couple of years, where everyone pitches in to repaint everything to keep it fresh.

Add to that some streets decorated with lovely contrasting deep green pot plants. And don’t forget the cats, who all oblige by posing for your album of photos.

In Morocco I find the angles and spaces between the medina homes a constant invitation for amazing photos – I must have taken the same photos a hundred times in some spots. Alleyways and stairs that sneak off around corners, beckon me. I love the old studded wooden doors with brass knockers, and the arched gates, doorways and window frames sometimes fixed with stained glass, which all echo of an intriguing and amazing part of the world.

Add to that the prettiest blue colouring in everything, and you get one of the most beautiful places I’ve been.

Why is Chefchaouen blue?

The second time I went to Chefchaouen was another story. For just one day in October 2025, and another movie, another misadventure.

If you come to Tangier without onward plans, be warned. You may think you are choosing, but it is Tangier which does the choosing!

My first stay I planned a year, and was gone in two months. My second visit was planned for two months. Three years later I “left”. Which is why I am still here! This time it was a planned visit of two weeks for a Chris Pratt series – Terminal List on Prime. But Tangier wasn’t letting me go so easily.

First I delayed for some health checks – which were more exhausting than the original problem. But at least I was given a 100% clean bill of health. Then I delayed to do a favour. And then to complete the wrap up of the favour. By then there was another movie – this the one in Chefchaouen.

It is a Moroccan series that screens every year in Ramadan, something fun that’s now in its 20th Ramadan year. This one (for Ramadan 2026) is a 33-episode series of 30-minute shows, weaving the story of 3 families in Chefchaouen. I was at the very beginning of the very first episode, and had to behave like a… tourist!

Luckily for me.

I’ve got it on good authority that it would not be a wise move for me to give up my day job to be an actor. My place is from the other side of the camera – maybe even to write a script.

So, with all my years of collecting trivia around Tangier, this brings us back to the question:

Why is Chefchaouen blue?  

There are four reasons I have come across over time.

Watch the Goat’s Horns

Choof! Look! (Shooff)

Morocco isn’t Arabic. It is Amazigh, or Berber (derived from the word barbarian). The Berber people are from the Rif Mountains, and widely spread across this north western corner of Africa, including Algeria, Tunisia, and down to Mali in the south.

The colourful dress of the Berber women. This one is posing at the Phoenician tombs near Cafe Hafa in Tangier, with a backdrop of Spain.

That is also why Darija (Moroccan Arabic) is so far different from Arabic in the Levant. It is very heavily laced with Amazigh words and sounds (as well as French, Spanish in Tangier, Italian in Tunisia etc). Arabic speakers cannot understand Darija without learning how. It is a different language.

Choof means look (‘ch’ said sh), and chauoa (shower) means goat’s horns, referring to the shape of the hills above the town.

Its history is similar to many parts of northern Morocco. After the advent of Islam around 610 AD, the Arabic Moors swept across northern Africa in the late 600s during the conquests of the Arab Umayyad. The local Berber people initially resisted Islam, but over the centuries they were gradually converted.

The Arab Umayyad then crossed the strait into Spain in 711 – which explains the Alhambra in Granada and the mosque at Cordoba, the casabas (Spanish for kasbah, or castle), and Arabic influence of the architecture in southern Spain. They stayed until they (the Moors), together with the Jews were ejected by the Catholic Queen Isabella in 1492.

These quintessentially Arabic arches and carvings are part of the Alhambra in Granada in Spain. Its construction was started in 1238.

The Chefchauoen kasbah or castle was established by the Spanish in 1471 against the Portuguese, and was quickly settled by the Moors and Jews forced out of Spain. Morocco had a significant Jewish population for many centuries.

Morocco’s Jewish population went up to 250,000-350,000, but has been declining since 1948, when Israel paid governments – including the Moroccan government – for every Jew who left Morocco and resettled in Israel. The current population of Jews in Morocco is around 2000-3000. The Moroccan Jewish population in Israel is now around half a million today.

So…

Why is Chefchaouen blue? The first – and most appealing – theory of why Chefchaouen is blue is because blue is symbolically important to the Jews. Their prayer shawls are dyed with blue dye – tekhelel, which reminds them of God’s power. It is said that they painted the walls of their houses blue to honour God.

Ras Al-Maa – Head of the Mountain Spring

Chefchaouen seems to be all about water. The main square itself where the kasbah is, is called Place Outae Hammam. Originally a crossroads, it was logically the location of the most important feature in town – the hammam, or bath house.

This is a special treat in Morocco. Most Moroccans go on a regular weekly basis, or even more often – to slough off the old skin and inlaid dirt and keep their skin in peak condition.

The hammam may be gone, but the kasbah and its museum are still in the square. It was built in the Andalusian style (southern Spain), and includes the emir’s residence, towers, sheds and stables, a small mosque, a garden and a prison. The building used limestone and rammed earth. Uncharacteristically the archways use red bricks fired locally, red tiles on the roof, and wooden platforms from juniper and fir trees.

If you walk up to the top of the town, you will pass the communal laundry houses which are still used as gathering points by the women even today, as well as mills for grinding grain and pressing olives for oil.

Ras al-Maa is the movie location, with amazing views over the blue village. We got a complete view, starting with the views across the town and the early morning low clouds, through the day as the sun lit up the houses, and into the evening with one of Chefchaouen’s spectacular sunsets.

Shortly after first light in Chefchaouen.

This is another reason to visit – to drink some sweet Moroccan mint tea from one of the rooftops, and maybe an almond biscuit or few, and meditate over one of the beautiful sunsets for which Chefchaouen is famous.

On a more energetic level, the head of the mountain spring – the Ras Al-Maa – is a great spot for a half or full-day hike, and in the summer a swim. From the top of town where the movie location was, past the women chatting over their washing, and the various mills. Make sure to keep looking over your shoulder for views and photos. Then just follow the river on uphill.

The Ras Al-Maa or spring is the reason why you know that the water in Chefchaouen is safe to drink. Every city in Morocco is different, and you need to ask. Tangier has safe drinking water, and Chefchaouen – you cannot beat water straight from a spring!

Why is Chefchaouen blue? The second theory is as the name Ras Al-Maa suggests – the water. The blue is supposed to reflect the Mediterranean. This is an interesting theory, since you can’t even see the sea from Chefchaouen. It is instead famous for its sunsets over the goat’s horn shape of its lovely hills. I would have expected the village to have been red-yellow for the sunsets, or green for the surrounding hillsides, or red like the clay baked bricks used in the kasbah.

Tajine and Atay b’Naanaa

With the lovely warm climate of the Mediterranean – and in the northern Rif Mountains above sea level, an intense sun – the lifestyle for most of the year is very outdoors. Drink atay b’naanaa – tea with fresh mint. In most Moroccan cities, that means lined up in front of a café. But in Chefchaouen the business is from a rooftop with views of the afternoon setting sun, with some Moroccan almond biscuit treats.

Of course, this isn’t the only food you could explore in Chefchaouen. Tagines can be found everywhere – my favourite is the lamb one with prunes. Tagines are stewed meat and vegetables in an array of Moroccan spices, predominantly including spices such as cumin, cinnamon – yes, a savoury spice giving a great twist to the flavours – turmeric, cardamon, paprika, and ground coriander.

And something sweet, such as prunes with the lamb. Other tagines might have dried apricots, sultanas or raisins, or sweetened caramelized onion. There are many great tagine restaurants – just ask. But one place that I like is the Clock Café in the middle of Chefchaouen village. It has lovely rooftop views, and sometimes throws in menu treats like camel burgers, for the more adventurous.

Maybe try a cactus juice. In season, you can buy them on the street for 2 to 5 dirhams. The seller peels away the prickly skin so you just pick out the sweet fruit to pop into your mouth. I also love a pomegranate juice in October, or a freshly squeezed lemon with fresh mint. Fruit in Morocco is spectacular, some of the sweetest and best I have tasted anywhere.

Why is Chefchaouen blue? The third theory is that it makes you feel cooler in the summer. This is also an appealing reason, except that I would expect all of Morocco to be filled with villages painted blue, since all of it is hot.

 

Namoosa

Chefchaouen has your usual range of souvenirs, obviously with a Chaouen twist. There are the brilliantly coloured woven cloths which I manage to buy far too frequently for the space in my bag! There is the pottery which I also try to squeeze into my bag, quite unsuccessfully, as well as all the usuals including rugs. Uniquely, a lot in Chawan are produced by the local blind co-operative, which you can visit.

And the traditional robes or djelaba with hoods pulled up in the winter. I swear they were the inspiration for Star Wars Tusken Raiders on Tatooine (the nearby city called Tetouan also gives me pause to wonder). In winter I feel like I have giant echoes of them walking the streets of Tangier.

Winter tunics for sale, though not the hooded ones.

Trivia fact: The Tatooine home of Luke Skywalker was filmed in Tunisia, and the name Tatooine is thought to actually be derived from the Tunisian town of Tataouine (French spelling), or Tataween in Tunisian Darija.

Another interesting trivia fact, unrelated to Star Wars… or maybe not… is found in a closer look at the nice green hills that surround Chefchaouen. The biggest commercial crop here may surprise you – it is cannabis. Morocco has excellent hash, and available very cheaply. The smell is on many street corners. Although not strictly legal, most Moroccans have at some time smoked, and many smoke all the time.  

Why is Chefchaouen blue? The fourth theory, that is quite popular, but getting into the realms of fantasy, is that the blue colour keeps the mosquitoes away – the namoosa. If this actually worked, I would have imagined most of the hot parts of the world being painted blue. But Chefchaouen is unique in its blueness.

However, it does also generate a significant hemp industry. Maybe find yourself a hemp bag with a Chefchaouen picture on it.

The Ramadan Series

The spectacular views of Chefchaouen from dawn through the midday sun to sunset, was not without its misadventures. I like doing the Moroccan movies, because so far they have had the best food. This one was no exception.

We spent an hour or so at dawn ooh-ing and aah-ing as tourists over the opening speech of a tourist guide. The rest of the day was just waiting. I happily read a large chunk of my Jack Reacher novel, sitting with a cat in the midday sun. Mid-afternoon, we got paid and sent off happy at the prospect of being back in Tangier before the anticipated 9pm.

40 minutes down the road, on the 2 ½ hour trip back, we got a phone call. We had to return to Chefchaouen – they hadn’t finished with us. There was another scene. We turned around, trundled back to Chawan. The car was full. With 5 of us, I scored the middle of the back seat…

Nearly 2 hours after leaving, we were back at Ras Al-Maa at the top of Chefchaouen. And we returned to the main pastime of extra work – waiting.

After about half an hour, it was official. They were finished for the day, and no, they didn’t need us after all. We had now got in a Chefchaouen sunset to match the morning scene’s sunrise, but movie days aren’t usually short. We had left Tangier at 4am, and didn’t get back until 9.30!

Why is Chefchaouen blue? – Spoiler Alert

I give you fair warning! If you are a romantic, here is the spot to stop reading. If you enjoyed the above reasons, from historic to absurd, stay with them. Because as a local I have had time to discover the truth about Chefchaouen, and it has none of the lovely images of the reasons given.

The reason there are so many theories may well be because the reality is mundane. I have met more than one person who was either from Chefchaouen, or visited there from Tangier as a child, maybe 50 years ago. The truth is, that in the 1970s, Chefchaouen was not blue.

The blue is a thing that has grown over time. The locals realized it was an attraction, and built on it, painting more and more of their streets blue. Tangier medina has spots like this now too, if you wander off the main souvenir streets – little alleys painted blue and filled with lush green plants, and always cats.

This pretty medina street is not in Chefchaouen, but in Tangier - maybe the beginnings of new rumours.

And to be honest, they have created a beautiful place to visit. I wonder, in the end, as the truth gets buried by the rumours and stories, does it really matter? Even in the winter it is a photo album of delights. It is a tranquil place to spend a day, or even a few.

There is a lot to be said for meditating on a beautiful sunset over the goat’s horned mountains, Moroccan mint tea and some almond biscuit treats, maybe a hike up to the spring for a swim in the Rif mountains.

And the secret of the truth can stay between us if you wish.

Just take your album of amazing photos, repeat your favourite theory, and make your friends and family want to visit what is in the end one of the prettiest places I’ve ever been.

How to get to Chefchaouen from Tangier?

Most of the information is distressingly set out by people who fly through. The information is bad, because they didn’t stay long enough to find out how things actually work in Morocco. The best way to get there is the way the locals do it. By the grand taxis.

Catch a share blue petit taxi to the old CTM bus station, or Autasa, about a 10-minute ride behind the train station along the west side of the train tracks. Here someone will direct you to the appropriate fawn coloured grand taxi.

These taxis are like mini buses. They have fixed routes, and fixed fares. The advantage is that they are smaller and more comfortable, and go as soon as they are full – 6 people, rarely a wait of more than 10 or 20 minutes. The fare to Chefchaouen is 70 dirhams per seat.

A grand taxi, with its red logo on the door. They will sometimes pose as normal taxis, so always check the price first. The grand taxis will always start when they have their full quota of 6 passengers.

If you make an early start, you can do a day return trip – about 2 hours 17 minutes each way. The return is from the spot where they drop you off. Alternatively, book somewhere overnight, relax and enjoy the sunset.

There are also buses, but the taxis are more comfortable, more frequent, faster, don’t require pre-booking, and around the same price.

The Naughty Boys of Tangier

A Tour of the Darker Side of Tangier

An unknown history of Tennessee Williams

Jack Kerouac and the Beat Generation

What did William Tell have to do with Tangier? – You won’t believe the answer!

Tour the darker history of Tangier, have a drink at Jack Kerouac’s bar, and decide for yourself!

The movie Midnight in Paris with Owen Wilson (2011), romantically visits past writers and artists from 1920s Paris, such as Ernest Hemingway, Picasso, and Henri Matisse. A Moroccan parallel might be called Kief in Tangier with Hemingway, Kerouac and William Burroughs. But it would be a much darker story. The truth behind the Beat Generation and Henri Matisse in Tangier in the 50s and 60s seems more dark rather than romantic.

But first, what was the Beat Generation?

The Beat Generation was a creative movement from the 1940s to the 60s, which rejected conventional narrative, growing materialism, and social values for freer self-expression, including spiritually, sexually and through psychedelic drugs.

The phrase was first coined by Jack Kerouac in 1948 talking about himself in contrast to the lost generations of past writers, much as in Midnight in Paris. He flippantly referred to himself as beaten down, beat up and beat out. And it stuck. The International Zone of Tangier (1923-1956) offered freedoms that to Europeans of the time were scandalous. William Burroughs popularized one of its writing techniques, of cutting up and rearranging phrases in a new order to create a whole new piece of work.

A walking tour through the darker secrets of Tangier’s writers, finishing in Jack Kerouac’s pub

Interzone – Start if you will at the cafés where Mick and Keith got stoned:- Café Hafa or Café Baba. Not just The Rolling Stones, but all of them – Jack Kerouac, Yves St Laurent, Tennessee Williams…

Flyer for Interzone, the shop, great for unique souvenirs

But I am starting at Interzone (William Burroughs’ abbreviation of ‘International Zone’). It’s at the top of the old medina near the Kasbah and 2 minutes from Café Baba. It is a museum of Tangier movie and book trivia and history, as well as a place to chill, or to browse Tangier mementos you can buy nowhere else.

Interzone, with its doorway pictures of some of the famous who have impacted on Tangier.

Around the doorway there are portraits of some Tangier significants painted by local artist Punksy, including its Beat Generation writers, from the right:- Muhamed Mrabet, Paul Bowles, Muhamed Choukri, and William Burroughs. The vapours of their stories still stir up waves in Tangier today. (You can check out who’s who on the left side of the door in my earlier blog “I Sat on Henri Matisse’s Knee”.

A print of an old movie poster about Tangier, one of several for sale.

For myself, I want a poster of the movie A Woman From Tangier, but it won’t fit in my backback. So a mug or a T-shirt will have to do. For now, let’s delve into the disreputable histories of this Beat Generation crowd.

• Muhamed Mrabet – The storyteller of Tangier – who has never written a word, and yet is translated into more than a dozen languages.

He is the storyteller who can’t read.

And an artist.

His mesmerizing stories are a weave of dreams, real events, and stories heard in the cafés of Tangier, incredible journeys of humour, tragedy, violence and power, and tensions between clashing cultures. Of course, Mrabet always makes himself the central character.

Also a fisherman, he once said:

“A story is like the sea. It has no beginning and no end. It is always the same and still it keeps always changing.”

Two of Mrabat’s paintings

Born in Tangier in 1936 he even visited Interzone in 2024. Leaving home permanently at 11 years old, he met Jane and Paul Bowles in 1960. Paul Bowles transcribed the recordings Mrabet made of his stories and translated them into English.

Café Colon – It’s not just one of my favourite spots, but also one the Beat-Mates’. In fact, it is where I am sitting at this very moment writing this.

Matisse, Rain. What do you think of his version - compare to the photo on my title page.

Leave Interzone and walk uphill to the T-intersection. To your right you’ll see the arched ‘breezeway’ tunnel leading to the Bab Bhar Sea Gate, the Kasbah Museum and Café Baba. This view not only inspired me for the homepage of OzzyHopper, but is the subject of a Matisse painting.

Home of the American heiress Barbara Hutton near Cafe Baba.

But turn left instead. Follow the medina wall to Bab Kasbah or the Kasbah Gate, then go left downhill. At the bottom you will find Café Colon on your left opposite Cine Alcazar. Stop here for a coffee or a Moroccan mint tea.

Cafe Colon - the inside decor has changed, but I almost feel like I can see their echoes and ghosts.

·       Paul Bowles (1910-1999) – The American writer who saved Morocco’s stories. Bowles was a writer and translator who lived in Tangier from 1947 until his death 52 years later, frequenting Café Colon with his Beat-Mates. Besides transcribing and translating Mrabet’s stories, he also wrote his own.

His most famous was The Sheltering Sky, (1949), which has been described as a novel of existential despair, and a must-read initiation for all who spend time in Tangier. It was made into a movie in 1990 starring John Malkovich.

A little earlier than The Sheltering Sky - the steep street rises from Cafe Colon up towards the Kasbah.

The other reason to pause at Café Colon is because this was where the final scene of the movie was filmed. Check out the last scene with the tram in the background – how much easier to go up that hill on a tram than by foot!

The American Legation – This museum is a secret insight into what might be behind the anonymous maze of walls that line the medina streets, initially a defense strategy to confuse the enemy and minimize information. Considering how easy it is to get lost in the medina – and how often I still do – it was a very effective device!

Entrance to The American Legation.

Originally an American embassy, the USA was the first nation to formally recognize the newly independent Morocco of 1956 when the International Zone was finally dismantled. Not only is it a grand house, and an interesting museum, but there are also little turtles to be found in its garden!

Silhouette through window and its magnificent woodwork at The American Legation.

From Café Colon, keep going along Rue d’Italie to the fountain in Grande Socco. From there, turn to your left and follow the narrow street to the next corner (past the fish market, identified by smell). Turn left again (at the Jewish Cemetery). Enter the medina from the Spanish Steps.

• Paul Bowles (1910-1999) – The American who saved Moroccan music. Also a musician and composer, Bowles preserved the local gnaua music by recording and transcribing it. Find the display in the Legation. He was an integral member of the Beat Generation with William Burroughs and Tennessee Williams.

You can find meter boxes all over the medina painted like this in Mrabat style by local artist Punksy.

 The TangerInn and Hotel Muneria – The hub of the Beat Generation in Tangier was this bar under the hotel, both still functioning. Mrabet worked at Muneria from 1956 variously as a driver, a cook, a general handyman and travel companion.

Go to the Hotel Rembrandt on the Boulevard and find your way down behind it from there a short 2-minute walk, and across the road from where I used to live, from where I heard the night time departures from TangerInn at closing (if I wasn’t there myself).

Mug available at Interzone printed with an old photo with Paul Bowles sitting at the front.

• William Burroughs (1914 -1997) – The American author who killed his ex.

A central Beat Generation writer, defying conventions with titles such as And the Hippos Were Boiled in Their Tanks written with Jack Kerouac (1954).

In 1951 in Mexico City, the story goes that one drunken night he announced that it was time for him and his ex to do their William-Tell stunt, of shooting a beer glass off her head with his gun. She agreed.

And he missed!

To escape the lingering legal case which dragged on without resolution, he went to Tangier in 1954 for four years, where he wrote Naked Lunch (1959) which was made into a movie. He also published his short stories of a fictionalized version of his life in Tangier in Interzone.

• Mohamed Choukri (1935-2003) – Moroccan author who went to school at 21 , and then wrote about his conversations with Tennessee Williams in Tangier. Choukri is an iconic Moroccan writer, an Amazigh born in the Rif mountains and lived in Tangier. He wrote in Arabic, a language he only learnt to read and write at the age of 21.

One of the Beat Generation crowd, his best-known work was a mix of autobiography and Moroccan issues, called For Bread Alone in English. It was banned in Morocco from 1983 to 2000 for its explicit sexual references. Now it is translated into 39 languages! In French it was Le Pain Nu, inspiring the name of a good tapas bar in Tangier – Au Pain Nu – in the Tanjawi style where tapas can come for free.

He is buried in the Merchan cemetery in Tangier.

• Tennessee Williams – Was in Tangier for several months in 1957. Choukri wrote about the conversations between them in his book Tennessee Williams in Tangier

• Jack Kerouac – was a novelist and poet and the one who coined the phrase Beat Generation. He became known for his ‘stream of consciousness spontaneous prose’. He was in Tangier in 1957 with William Burroughs and co, frequenting the TangerInn with their Beat-Mates. Many times I read his quotes which cover the walls of this cosy pub, a frequent visitor since I lived across the road from it for a space.

Tangier is still a magnet for the creative. Who knows what future famous authors might be here now – although not as romantic as Midnight in Paris, and maybe not a lifestyle to aim for. Kerouac died at the age of 47 haemorrhage from cirrhosis of the liver, and Burroughs’ ex died from a fatal party trick.

There is still character to be found everywhere in Tangier - this one still frequents Cafe Colon today, here with a glass of Moroccan mint tea.

I Sat on Henri Matisse’s Knee

A Tour of Tangier’s Celebrity Creatives

Follow this tour and stand where Henri Matisse did, see what he saw and painted.

Have a coffee where Mick Jagger slept.

Sit where Keith Richards smoked kief.

Dine in Yves St Laurent’s home.

And who was the naked painter?

These are just some of the celebrities drawn to Tangier over time. Follow their footsteps, check out their haunts. And discover Tangier’s celebrity history by stopping in at Interzone at the top of the old medina near the kasbah. See their unique collection of books, movies and curiosities of Tangier, chat, chill, or buy memorabilia you will find nowhere else.

Around their front door, local artist Punksy has painted portraits of some of the more memorable Tangier celebrities who lived in Tangier, both Moroccans, and the famous who retreated from a conservative Europe to the freer and more permissible society of the Tangier International Zone (1920s-1950s), including a full-size portrait of Henri Matisse in the exact spot where he painted Le Marabout.

Discover the haunts and eccentric lives that make up part of the Tangier history and magic. Follow in their footsteps. Stand where Henri Matisse did.

Gran Socco - the fountain on the left, archway into Rue d’Italie, and entrance to the ancient medina right of it, an entrance to the Souq Barra just right of the photo. I have my back to Cinema Rif.

Gran Socco – Start here, a perfect orientation for Tangier. The souq (market) and old medina (old town) are below the fountain. Above it is Cinema Rif, with the mosque to the right, the sea to your left. Stop here, sit facing the street and do as the Moroccans – watch the world go by over a mint tea or café au lait.

El Minzah Hotel – Follow the road on the left side of Cinema Rif up towards Gran Café du Paris at the next fountain. On the way, on your left, you will pass the El Minzah Hotel. Not only is it an excellent toilet stop, but its walls are covered in photos of the rich and famous who have passed through – not just actors, but the likes of Churchill and Yves St Laurent. Check out their bar for even more celebrity photos, and a drink if you wish.

• Kaid Maclean (Sir Harry Aubrey de Vere Maclean, 1848-1920) was a Scottish soldier who became a General of the Moroccan army! Large of build, he dressed in Moorish clothes and played the bagpipes, he not only must have looked intriguing, but notoriously got kidnapped. His portrait is in the El Minzah.

Grand Hotel Villa de France – Go back down the street you came up, but turn left at the kink/corner. At the end of this street is the Villa de France.

• Henri Matisse (1869-1954), French artist including impressionism, visited Tangier in the winter of 1912-1913. He stayed at this hotel, painting several paintings from the window of his room, including Landscape Viewed from a Window with St Andrew’s Church.

St Andrews Church and Graveyard – About turn, and you are facing St Andrew’s Church, built in 1905. Have you ever seen an Anglican church built with scalloped Moorish arches and a belltower shaped like a minaret? Also check out the cemetery for a few notables.

• Walter B. Harris (1866-1933) – Famously, he built Villa Harris in the 1890s. Journalist, writer and traveller, he was linguistically talented and physically ambiguous and travelled into many parts of Morocco inaccessible to foreigners, and wrote about them. After his death Villa Harris became a casino – the new one is across the road. It is now a museum and a great place for a picnic or weekend yoga. You can bus or taxi to Malabata for a visit, or a picnic.

• Emily Keene (1849-1944) – A writer, adventurer, and traveller who was a governess in Morocco. She married a powerful governor or Sharif and brought vaccines with her. She was a Moroccan of Anna and the King.

• Kaid Maclean – the Moorish-dressed, bagpipe-wielding, kidnapped-for-ransom Scottish commander of the Moroccan army.

The American Legation - entrance under the arched breezeway on your right, the Spanish Steps just ahead.

American Legation – Fun fact: Morocco was the first nation to acknowledge the newly independent USA in 1821. The sultan presented the building to the US. It functioned as a diplomatic post until Rabat was made the capital of Morocco at the end of the International Zone era (1923-1956). This, and other history is displayed in this house established in 1821 – almost more interesting for a peek at what may hide behind those endless high walls of the medina maze of streets. This old mansion crosses over the walkway, has a garden and balconies and beautiful Moroccan architecture, all designed for occidental purposes in an oriental Maghrebi world.

It was the first

The Spanish Steps, back through the wall into the medina and The American Legation.

Go back to Cinema Rif and the fountain (the mosque will guide you). Go past the fountain and down the street towards the sea. Take the first left after the fish markets (no description needed – you will smell them). That corner has the Jewish Cemetery – another interesting part of Moroccan history. As you start down the hill – also seawards – there are some steps on your left. Go up these steps (The Spanish Steps) into the medina. You will find the American Legation not far in.

A bit of Europe inside the medina - The American Legation

• Ion Perdicaris (1840-1925) and the Perdicaris Incident – This was a hot political football in 1940 when this important Greek-American author, playwright, painter, lawyer, professor, diplomat and human rights activist was kidnapped. He fought for the rights of slaves, Moors and Arabs in Morocco. Notably President Roosevelt intervened.

• Kaid Maclean – the Moorish-dressed, bagpipe-wielding, kidnapped-for-ransom Scottish commander of the Moroccan army has two of his paintings displayed in the Legation.

• Paul Bowles (1947-1999) – There is a special display of the musician and writer Paul Bowles, a key figure in Tangier. He was the first to record and preserve the Moroccan-Rif gnaua music, and the oral stories of Moroccan author M Mrabet.

Hotel Fuentes - This is where the artist painted naked. And painted the tables, and the ceiling of the upper floor in candle smoke.

Petit Socco and Fuentes Café – Make your way to Petit Socco in the middle of the medina, to Gran Café Central which has stood there since 1813. Beside is Café Tingis, after the old Roman name for Tangier, and one open during Ramadan, which also serves everyone at that time. As you sip your mint tea or coffee, muse at the wall opposite which was once notoriously the lineup of available prostitutes.

But opposite Central is Fuentes, a hotel and café, and also a long term feature of the square, with a little known history of being the home of the Toulouse-Lautrec of Tangier.

• Antonio Fuentes (1905-1995) – A prolific artist he lived on the top floor of Fuentes. As a child he was known to paint on the marble table tops, and later he painted the ceilings using candle smoke, and apparently his norm was to paint naked. Well, Tangier is warm in the summer. Between spaces in Europe, he lived here his whole life. A prolific artist, he painted - here - til the day before he died. He admitted himself to the Spanish Hospital in Tangier, and a day later he died.

• Camille Saint-Saens – composed Danza Macabre at Fuentes.

• Eugene Delacroix – the French artist in 1839, and Matisse (1912-1913) also painted here.

Tangier rooftops from Cafe Baba, with photos of some of its famous visitors over time around the walls.

Café Baba – Head off between Café Centrale and Café Tingis, and a short 5-minute walk will get you to Café Baba, a Tangier haven. With views of the bay through arched windows, 76 year old Café Baba has hosted kings, dukes, actors and others, including the Beat Generation, Paul Bowles, William Burroughs, Muhamed Mrabet, Muhamed Choukri, and the Rolling Stones – all of them to smoke kief and drink mint tea or Turkish coffee. You can do exactly the same, and guess which were their favourite seats. Ask the owner, and see what secrets he will reveal.

Barbara Hutton’s house

The first female there was in 1946, Barbara Hutton, American heiress and socialite whose house is almost at the bottom of the steps of Café Baba. Now of course you can find females in any of the cafes. There are no rules. Moroccan women just mostly socialise in different places.

Interzone, with portraits of the creatives who have passed through Tangier, and a life-size portrait of Matisse himself where he sat to paint the view.

Interzone – A treasure box of curiosities, a museum and a shop with memorabilia that you won’t find elsewhere in Tangier, or just chill. Ask about the history of Tangier, or buy a memento of a mug of William Burroughs, or a t-shirt of a movie poster such as the 1959 “Flight to Tangier”. You’ll find it near the kasbah at the top of the old medina about 5 minutes from Café Baba.

Around the front doorway, local artist Punksy has painted portraits of significant Tangier people, starting with Samir Duass on the right. But in the middle, you can’t miss a scale painting of Henri Matisse himself.

• Henri Matisse sat in front to paint Le Marabout. Stand where he stood. Sit where he sat. You can see for yourself the original of what he painted in Le Marabout. The scene hasn’t changed.

• Samir Duass – Also an artist, Samir Duass painted a painting of Matisse painting Le Marabout!

• Raisuli – A striking blackbearded Berber chief, Lord of the Rif mountains, Moor and Barbary pirate that excites the imagination, who kidnapped Ion Perdicaris and his stepson from their dining table in 1904 instigating the Perdicaris Incident, in reaction to Morocco’s anarchy.

Yes, I did ‘sit’ on Matisse’s knee. But he seems rather startled at my whispered secret…

Villa Mabrouka – Walk up from Interzone to the wall and turn right. Here you will have the magnificent view through the arched tunnel to the sea – the one that I used for the main page of OzzyHopper, and the one that Henri Matisse painted in Porte de la Casbah.

Find Matisse’s painting of this view. Can you spot where he set his easel?

Just beyond it is the kasbah square, with the kasbah museum and the café Salon Bleu with its amazing rooftop views. But turn left and exit through Bab Bhar, the Sea Gate. With Spain across the water, the Marina Bay to your right, and the best seafood in Tangier below, this is another of the amazing views from Tangier medina.

Bab Bhar (Sea Gate) from the inside.

For Villa Mabrouka, follow the path from Bab Bhar to your left, on the outside of the medina wall, first for the amazing views of the Mediterranean, then for a short walk through some medina streets, past a café with magnificent gardens and sea views, and shortly later to Villa Mabrouka.

• Yves St Laurent – Here you can dine, or have a coffee, in Yves St Laurent’s home, frequented by the rich and famous including Mick Jagger. If it’s in your budget, is a boutique hotel of the first order.

View from Cafe Hafa. Unfortunately on a day when Spain wasn’t there. (They sometimes tow it away for a spa and makeover)

Café Hafa – To finish for the day if Villa Mabrouka is outside your budget, there is always the iconic Café Hafa. A short street left of Mabrouka, then right will take you right up to the top of Tangier. You will pass the Phoenician graves on the cliffs – another magnificent view of the sea. The next street on your right will take you around to Café Hafa, frequented by… everyone. All of the Beat Generation went there, even Mick and Keith smoked kief there some 60 years ago.

Which table do you think was their favourite?

How many emerging artists have been there since?

Cafe Hafa, since 1921

But even if not, the views from Hafa are some of the best in Tangier. Especially over a tea and sunset.

Best Places to Stay in Tangier

What are the best places to stay in Tangier, Morocco? Can I stay in riads in Tangier? What is a riad?

What are the best 5 star and luxury hotels in Tangier?

Are there apartments in Tangier for sale or rent? What real estate options do I have in Tangier?

Where do I find a cheap hotel and the best hostel in Tangier?

Tangier is a tourist city, so there is a huge range of places to stay, everything from your luxury boutique hotels and riads, down to your more basic airbnbs and hostel accommodation. For longer stays there are many apartments and villas which are rentable by the month and upwards.

Your best option and place to stay will depend on your needs – whether you are passing through or coming to stay. Your choice will be affected by your budget, if you have children or others with you, whether you want to be near everything, or in a quieter location with beach access.

If you have specific needs you can check out the shop and order detailed and personalised answers.

But first, what types of accommodation are there in Tangier?

What is a Riad

Welcome to Morocco where the traditional style of home or dar is a riad.

If you have ever wandered through the maze of streets of a medina and noticed that it is all walls and doors, doesn’t it make you wonder where people live when there are so few windows?

They live on the other side of those walled alleyways, and sometimes above. To a western eye where outward facing windows is normal, that flies in the face of our logic. But many of the homes in the medina, especially the better ones, are riads where the wealthy lived.

So, what is a riad?

It is very specifically a stately Moroccan home or dar, where the rich and influential lived. They are built around a central courtyard which will include a water feature such as a fountain, intrinsically tiled floors and open to the sky. This lets out the heat and keeps them remarkably cool for the climate. Larger ones can have whole gardens in their courtyards.

Many of them have now become accommodation for tourists, and a must stay experience for every visitor to Morocco. An example for viewing is the American Legation. Now a museum, it was originally a stately home before it became the American consulate and the from the days when Morocco was the first country in the world to officially recognize the fledgling United States of America. It is in the medina near the Spanish Steps.

Riads are generally built upwards. While space is not an issue in Morocco, for safety the villages and towns were kept densely packed – so homes went up, not out. A riad can have several floors with rooms opening off stairwells and small balconies around the courtyard ‘well’. The rooftop is the pinnacle in every respect. In Tangier this often means sea views of the Mediterranean, of Tangier Bay, and Spain. These can be the perfect place for breakfast, a Moroccan mint tea or coffee break, or an evening drink, especially in the summer.

The ancient medina is full of beautiful riads, many now available for a stay with prices ranging from the luxurious and well appointed to the cheaper ones for a more moderate budget. Some names include:

Riad Tinggis

Riad Mokhtar

Riad Dar Nour

The Morocco Club

Kasbah Rose

Top of the Range – Villa Mabrouka

If you want the very, very best, there is one place to stay which surpasses everything else in Tangier. This is the Villa Mabrouka at the top of the medina. Tangier seems to have always been a magnet for the creative and the rich.

Villa Mabrouka was originally the home of Yves Saint Laurent and where he entertained guests such as Andy Warhol and Mick Jagger. Designed in the 1940s style with a blend of traditional Moroccan and English country it has 12 rooms and comes in the range of $500-1500 per night. With beautiful gardens and superbly designed rooms plus a gourmet restaurant, it is the superlative stay in Tangier.

Boutique Hotels

What is a boutique hotel, and how is it different to a standard 5-star hotel?

These may often be riads, or were grand houses in the past. The more expensive ones will have suites, not rooms. They tend to be smaller than hotels with a more intimate feeling and a greater focus towards an artistic flair, and can have just 3 or 4 suites/rooms, or many more (though usually not over 100). Often they are beautifully renovated riads, and can start from as little as $40-75 per night and even less.

At the other end of the scale they can be very grand riads with magnificent garden courtyards, and prices reaching upwards of $300 per night.

Boutique hotels are more personal than hotels, and right up there with style and service. Some worth noting in Tangier include:

Mimi Calpe

Chez Josephine

Nord Pinot

Tangerino

Narcia

Hotels, from 5-star to the beach

If you are looking for luxury hotels in Tangier, there are plenty of options. Giving you rooms rather than suites (suites are of course available), Tangier has many top hotels. The 5-star will have everything at top level, and prices to match. Some notable ones you might consider:

El Minzah – in the middle between both the medina and the city centre, classy with sea views and swimming pool, and a string of famous guests over time.

Hilton – in the new city centre, conveniently near the train station and 2 minutes’ walk to the beach.

Continental – in the medina at its edge – one way overlooks the bay for your breakfast views, the other faces into the medina.

The Fairmont – out of the city bustle with superb views across the hillsides, for those who want style combined with the quiet and peaceful.

The Corniche, along the beach

There are also many quality hotels along the beach road called the Corniche, pricing slightly more comfortable yet still convenient to the medina, to the new city and to the night life and restaurants, and of course the beach. Some include:

Kenji Solazur

Miramar

Mamoru

Slightly cheaper, there are also some extremely good options in town near the Boulevarde, the main road above the Corniche where nothing ever closes. The beaches and medina are nearby – still within walking distance – but so are many restaurants, clubs and bars. Two of note are:

Hotel Rembrandt – with its Blue Pub beer garden, pool, nightclub and restaurant. Many rooms have views of the sea and Spain, while being in the heart of Tangier and a 10 minute walk to the medina.

Hotel Chellah – which a beer garden, pool, restaurant and often live music, near the Roxy district with its restaurants, cafes and nightclubs.

Airbnbs

Here we have a huge range of options in an industry with everything from classy and beautiful stays to the budget ones. But this means you can choose according to your budgets and needs.

The idea of Airbnb was a homestay and personal experience as compared to the less personal nature of hotels in general. At one end this can mean a room in somebody’s home where you are welcomed and sometimes offered the full homestay experience with bonus features like local food and events. Alternatively you could have a well-appointed apartment to yourself or to share, giving the homely feeling with greater privacy with the homeowner living elsewhere.  

One of note in Tangier:

The Gold Room – in the middle of the medina with delightful host Dahab at http://airbnb.com/h/goldyy

Hostels, the Cheap Stays in Tangier

I come across so many people afraid of staying in hostels with notions that they are full of partying teenagers, they’re full of drugs, they’re not safe, or I’m too old.

None of these things are true.

I still choose to stay in hostels. I’m now 62, and frequently I have not been the oldest person staying.

Why stay in a hostel?

Besides that they are obviously cheap, I choose them over other types of accommodation when I am travelling solo because they are such a good way of meeting people. Even when I was first travelling in my early 20s, I’d do my touristy thing through the day, but I’d always looked forward to company in the evenings and the fun  of meeting new people and sharing stories and information which is often only available from others who have just done what you are about to do.

There will always be some travelers in full-on party mode, and there will be hostels which are especially inviting to those people. But most people will party elsewhere and the hostels are generally quiet. If you are willing to take the leap, these are the things I look for when booking a hostel.

I generally use booking.com and filter from the cheapest. But I choose more by location, as long as the rating is reasonable – say, above an 8 out of 10. As a member of booking.com you get discounts and special offers from some. Always check the ones of interest on their own webpage before booking since they sometimes are cheaper if you book directly there.

What do I look for in a hostel?

Besides location and ratings - breakfast included is always a winner for me. It saves an early morning rush when your belly is grumbling, and will often be cheaper than eating out, even if the breakfast is fairly basic.

Secondly, I want to be able to meet people. I check for the photos of the communal areas – if there are inviting communal areas, people will use them. This makes it so easy to make friends – they are probably looking for company too, and if not, they are generally welcoming anyway. Start by asking where people are from, where they’ve been and where they are going. Too easy.

If the hostel has breakfast, you know that the communal areas will be good for meeting people. Remember, most others are travelling alone too, and just as keen to chat as you are. I’ve had hostels where breakfast becomes an all-day chat-fest. Other times where I’ve linked up with someone for the day to visit the same sites, or a cheaper way to my next destination because of a group discount.

You never know when someone is looking for a 4th person to fill a car heading to somewhere else. It is worth keeping your mind flexible about your itinerary so you can take advantage of opportunities when they come up. Sometimes the best parts of travel are the unexpected.

The front desk and hostel staff should also be excellent sources of information. When I arrive, I usually ask where to go and for the best eats – they are the ones in the know. They will usually have a map for you where they can mark the spots you’re most likely to be interested in, and pass on some local secrets – stuff the information office is unlikely to know about.

And perhaps most important of all, the sleeping arrangements.

Most hostels will have some private rooms, which can have an ensuite bathroom, or have access to the hostel shared bathroom facilities.

The dormitories will almost always include options for women only, as well as men only and mixed rooms of varying sizes. The more beds, the cheaper. The less beds, the less chance of getting that annoying person who needs to rustle a lot of plastic bags at 3am.

So what do I look for?

If there are curtains around each bunk, that is a definite plus. It gives you room for a little privacy. I usually opt for the bottom bunk so I’m not bothered if the ceiling light goes on and off at all hours – sometimes someone has an early departure, for example.

Most bunks these days will have their own light, and hopefully power socket. Some also have an extra USB port – but check the photos. The best ones even have a little shelf for each bunk. I need somewhere to put my glasses, so this is always a double bonus for me.

Most hostels will also have a locker for each bed. But be ready for anything. It may or may not be big enough for your backpack. You should always carry your own padlock – not all hostels provide locks. Some will charge extra for one.

While most people are decent, it is only common sense when in shared living spaces to follow all the normal basic precautions. You can put a lock on your backpack zipper. I never have because I never leave anything of value in it. I have never had a problem.

I never leave my laptop out. Always keep it locked in your locker when you’re not there. Even if I leave for a minute to use the bathroom, I will put it out of sight under my pillow or somewhere. Otherwise I have nothing of value other than my phone, passport, money and cards which I always keep on me, making use of a bum bag under my clothing and other hiding spots.

It’s good not to keep all your eggs in one basket. You are unlikely to have any trouble, but just in case, a backup card hidden in a different spot can take a lot of stress out of an unpleasant situation. All this is just sensible precautions, like looking both ways before you cross the road.

I find hostels a great place to stay, and choose them by preference. So often I hear of people being lonely while travelling. This can happen in the hotels where you are staying alone and there is generally little to no interaction between guests.

Hostels are the perfect opposite to this. I have met so many inspiring people, interesting people, had a lot of fun with people of all ages from all over the world – even in their 70s and maybe more. I have even made some long-term friends. Reconnecting with people in different places has a unique place of its own.

Understandably some people want the greater comfort and privacy of the more expensive accommodation options. But don’t pass off hostels as dens of iniquity. They are far from it, and can afford some wonderful travel experiences.

In Tangier, especially off-season, they can be as little as $10 a night. My top recommendations for Tangier are:

Bayt Alice – this one always comes up trumps and is so popular you now need to book ahead most of the year. Designed by a French decorator, the rooms are charming and full of Morocco and include a rooftop to chill with views of the bay. Yes – this is the one I’ve stayed at in Tangier, and more than once.

Tangiers Hostel & Riad Hostel Tangier – These are the other two I most often hear people are staying at, with great locations.

Apartments in Tangier for Sale and Rent – Tangier Real Estate

If you’re planning to stay for more than 2 weeks, there are also many apartments and villas available for rent and sale at a whole range of prices. The minimum rent time will be 1 month, but this can be cheaper than paying for 2 weeks – so check out your options here.

You may be a digital nomad, a slomad, or just want to take your time chilling. An apartment gives you more space and comfort since they are fully functional homes. Prices for a fully furnished flat in the city can start from $400 per month and up, with villas and gardens, or luxury appointed apartments in Malabata next to the sea.

You may have a work contract as a teacher for example, or you may want to rent somewhere to give yourself time to look around and to get a feel for Tangier and where it might suit you to buy. A year-long rental agreement will be even less per month, giving you more for your money.

For an excellent agent with an extensive list of apartments and villas, furnished and unfurnished, both for rental and sales,

contact Ashraf Alawamleh on +212 644202053.

Available in several languages

He is also available through the Tangiers Expat page on facebook, which is another excellent source of information, and on Instagram. He can readily be found via Abou Tayssir, The Syrian restaurant, which is worth a stop for some excellent food anyway.

Be aware that in Morocco unfurnished means not even a stove or a hot water heater for a shower. But if you don’t have your own furniture, there are many fully furnished apartments available, some of them very tastefully decorated.

If you have any specific information which has not been addressed here, or any unique personal needs, check out my shop for the 5 questions option. I will give answers as detailed and specific to your needs as I possibly can.

Also read my page on Where to Stay in Tangier (2) – coming shortly – which gives a rundown of the different localities in Tangier to help you get a feel for the city and the sort of location which might suit your personal preferences best.

Morocco - Where to Visit

Come to visit the magical Morocco! Or to move here.

But where to stay?

So many exotic places to choose from. If you’re looking for a spot to stay – even if for just a little – think about your lifestyle preferences and the kind of place that would suit you. Here’s a mini guide around the country, and the coloured cities – white, blue, yellow and red. What are the best places to stay?

A woman from the mountains near Tangier in her traditional clothing, on the way home from the markets

My first thought was Casablanca. I mean – the movie! I’m from Australia, and I’d literally heard of 3 places – Casablanca because of the movie, Marrakech – also a movie with Owen Wilson called Ishtar, and I think I’d heard of Tangier, Morocco.

But Morocco is so, so much more.

CASABLANCA

So – what of Casablanca? The idea of telling people I was living there was so exotic. Unfortunately, when someone on social media asks what is the best thing to do in Casablanca, most of the answers say “Leave it”.

Jokes aside, I have come across people who love it.

So, what is Casablanca? Mostly it’s a big city. About 6 million people, crowded, and not much there besides the big mosque on the sea. It has, of course, all your usual city infrastructure, more work opportunities, and is well connected with everywhere else in Morocco. That is what people like.

There are food places and night places, and it has Morocco’s main airport which includes bargain airfares. Not just from Casablanca, but buy ahead and you can find return airfares for €20 and €30 to Europe – especially some cities in Spain, and I’ve even heard of that for Rome and London.

But when it comes to the idea of somewhere exotic, for Casablanca it’s mostly just in the name. Worst of all, the movie Casablanca was never even filmed there! It was all done on site in Los Angeles. Tangier’s own Cafe de Paris exudes more of the atmosphere of the movie than what I have seen of Casablanca.

Old photo of Cafe de Paris in Tangier

TANGIER - The White City

Here I will be unashamedly biased. I love Tangier – as do most people, whether living here or passing through, whether Moroccan or a foreigner.

A tumble of white buildings cascade down the hillsides in the medina from the top at the Kasbah. The sparkling Mediterranean is visible from many balconies and rooftops with the wonderful backdrop of Spain. There are beaches near enough to walk to for a swim in the summer. The Atlantic Ocean beaches are about the same by mini-bus-taxi. Tangier is the white city.

The white city - the Tangier medina with the bay behind it, painted by artist and friend Noel Bensted.

The weather in Tangier also gives it a very pleasant and moderate climate. In summer there is usually a pleasant sea breeze taking the edge off the sun’s heat. It is nowhere near as hot as the rest of Morocco, with temperatures consistent day to day. In winter it doesn’t really get that cold – in spite of what the locals will say. The temperature rarely drops below 11 degrees even at night. I have often sat outside at a café until closing time at 11pm, even in December.

The medina is small enough to be fun. The locals are friendly – nothing like the harassment you might get in Marrakech, or even Fes. There’s a night life, plenty of cafes, a cosmopolitan community, and it seems to be a magnet for all types of artists and other interesting people – painters, musicians, writers…

One of the gateways into the medina, inviting you to explore the maze of alleyways and streets

It has a slightly wild flavour, a frontier town. Just far enough from the rest of Morocco to have an individual streak. It is a gateway to Europe. The locals typically speak 3-5 languages comfortably, maybe as a result of its international past – it was an international zone from the 1920s to the 1950s, owned at one point by 7 different countries. With no border issues, it was visited by many famous writers, actors and artists.

There are more job opportunities in Tangier than most parts of Morocco. Besides teaching, many people are employed by Tangier Med, the port, or in the automotive industry. Morocco is a huge supplier of parts and other services for the car manufacturers. English teaching has jobs available almost everywhere in Morocco. And of course, if you work remotely it’s just a matter of choosing your city for what suits you as a place to live. And Tangier is a good place for that.

Tangier - a city where anything can happen

You can go up to the top of the medina to the Kasbah (old castle) for a coffee or Moroccan mint tea with views of the Mediterranean and Spain from one of the many rooftop cafes, including from the spectacular Café Hafa. On your way check out the Phoenecian graves dug into the clifftops by the Romans. Visit the American Legation – medina house and museum – near the Spanish Steps, the place where Morocco was the first country in the world to officially recognize the United States of America.

Sit over a wine and watch the yachts and the sun setting over the medina from Chiringuito, or walk along the beachfront and watch the changing colours of Tangier bay over coffee and ice-cream, check out the beach bars and night life, or a food event, or hop on and off the double decker tour bus which does the rounds of Tangier.

And of course, there’s Europe. In about an hour you can get to Spain, either Tarifa by ferry, or to Ceuta by mini-bus-taxi, have lunch, do some shopping, or go to the beach. It’s both a great place to live, and a great place to pause and chill on your way through.

CHEFCHAOUEN - The Blue City

This is not really a likely location to live since it is quite small, but it is a must-do day trip (or overnight) from Tangier – the blue city. Painted blue, you can check it out from Tangier, or stay and chill a bit longer – throw in a walk to the waterfall.

And when I say that it is blue – it is spectacularly blue, a truly breathtaking town. The whole medina, the walls and even the street under your feet – are painted a pretty blue, with endless photo opportunities including the cats as ever-obliging models on the steps and in the corners between the plants.

It is just over a 2-hour ride by mini-bus-taxi from Tangier. In contrast to the open sea aspect of Tangier, it is nestled between the hills. Chefchouan is a place for rooftop sunsets over the mountains and Moroccan mint tea.

And another added bonus – half way to Chefchouan is the city of Tetouan, the other big one in the north. Not as big as Tangier and quieter, it does nevertheless have some lovely quiet beaches to stay at just a 15 minute taxi ride from the city centre.

RABAT

As we move down the country, the next spot is Rabat, Morocco’s capital city since the 1950s. It is a more modern city, about 600,000 people. If you’re interested in something more sophisticated than Tangier’s wild edge, then Rabat is probably a good choice. To be fair, I have come across a lot of people who genuinely like living there. There are good job opportunities here, as you would expect in any government city, and it is very close to Casablanca.

It’s not far from Casablanca on your way from Tangier. I have often heard people say they like living there – besides Tangier, going by the comments it would seem to be the second city of choice.

FES - The Yellow City

If we follow the cities south by colour, the next one is Fes, the city where the buildings all take on the gentle yellow of the soil around there. Everywhere you go there are old walls, the kasbah, narrow alleyways with walls hiding some beautiful riads. Fes is the yellow city.

The yellow city, with its soft creamy buildings and gateways

It’s an old capital, and an historic city. It has one of the biggest ancient medinas in the world (medina literally just means city centre, though is often used to refer specifically to the old medina). It also has the largest unmotorized city centre in the world. Everything inside the walled city is by foot, donkey, or pulled on a cart. Background noises are more likely to be the clip clop of a donkey or the call to prayer. There are no vehicle noises inside the old walled city.

It has your open-air leather dying ‘factories’ that have always fascinated me, a university which claims to be the oldest in the world, possibly more traditional culture than elsewhere, and for me – a mecca for buying earrings!

One of the leather dying factories - a little on the nose, but a fascinating visit to an ancient industry

While the whole city of Tangier has a population of around 1 million, Fes has that inside the old medina – maybe, cos nobody is really sure. As with all old cities, it has now spread well beyond the city walls into the modern part of town.

It is more conservative than Tangier, including the foreign community who choose to live there – the further south you go the more conservative Morocco is.

Nearby you have Meknes and the ruins of the old Roman city of Volubilis. Fes is surrounded by the main food basin for Morocco, and the Atlas Mountains and Ifran where you can actually ski in winter. So yes – Fes gets very cold in winter, as well as the very hot summer temperatures which regularly go up into the high 40s.

MARRAKECH - The Red City

The fourth city by colour – Marrakech. Marrakech is the red city. The first thing that will hit you is the colour.

The old city wall with its distinctive hint of red

Actually, I lie. First the heat – then the colour. It is truly a red city, with its buildings having the red of the desert and rocks surrounding it. It is not a desert city as such – but very near, and very dry. And very hot. It is a frontier city even more than Tangier, being historically the first big city for the camel trains as they brought their goods across the desert.

The centre of the old city is the famous square – Jemaa el-Fnaa, full of energy and excitement. But don’t think that’s all of Marrakech. Besides the desert – if you want to do it justice, get a 5-day trip, and avoid the summer! – it has a long history as a capital in Morocco and a great deal of history to be found. While the city centre is very dramatic, that is for the tourists. I have heard mixed reports of living there – some who are happy, others not, saying it can take a long time to become accepted as a local.

The road from Marrakech to Ouarzazate - a gem that nobody even talks about

South from Marrakech you also have Ouarzazate, Morocco’s Hollywood. To get there you have one of those spectacular mountain drives as you cross into the Atlas Mountains of the south. And of course, Ait BenHaddou – the city featured in Game of Thrones, Gladiator,  and many other series and movies. Marrakech is the gateway to the Sahara and the desert communities.

Ait Benhaddou - the city from Game of Thrones and Gladiator - not fiction, but very real

While Casablanca is the spot to go if you are an actor, if you are just an ordinary person like myself, there is also a high demand for native English speakers for the movie industry, for ads and drama-documentaries. I get work as an extra in Tangier. It is eratic and a lot of waiting, but I find it fun.

ESSAOUIRA and AGADIR

The other place of note for foreigners and tourists are Essaouira and Agadir.

Essaouira is a kind of hippy-beach place, and usually ranks high on the to-see in Morocco list. It is a chill town on the Atlantic Ocean a little north of Agadir, if a tendency to be very windy. I believe it has a decent foreign community, and is definitely a good place for fans of surfing and other beach activities.

This is the view from the turreted boardwalk which also features in Game of Thrones

Agadir is the southern coastal capital, a calm city on the coast, bigger than Essaouira. It has all the usuals of walled medina and kasbah (castle), and a pleasant place to live by all accounts.

South – way south – on the coast, and very deserty is your last city of note in Morocco – Dacca. It is definitely a unique place to visit, perched as it is, the last city going south to Senegal, between the ocean and the desert, on the brink of Morocco and its Berber peoples.

If you are looking for somewhere in Morocco to settle, come and check out the cities and see what is right for you. As either a tourist or a new resident, all these and more are worth a visit. Morocco is a unique and beautiful place full of friendly locals and every bit the exotic adventure.