Marrakech, Morocco

Some places lend themselves to wandering.  Marrakech is that kind of place.  

We realized… We are somewhere we have never been.

 

A perfect mix of Berber + Arabic + African + European.  Narrow cobblestone alleyways inside a walled city, inaccessible to cars.  Endless twists and turns.  The vibrant colors at our riad (traditional hotel with an indoor courtyard) located one block from the chaos of the legendary medina (Jemaa el-Fnaa).  Selling: fruit, nuts, spices, raw meat, woven textiles, metals, lamps, and leather.  The call to prayer as the sun begins to set.  The smell of fresh mint.  Ladies painting hands with henna tattoos.  Ken swindled by buying $40 nuts and dates.  The food!  The mosaic tiles!  The ornate décor!  Iconic arched doorways, the jewel toned colors, metal lanterns, and rooftop terraces.  The Bahia Palace, a salmon run of tourists.  The Ben Youssef Madrasa, a former Islamic school and photographer’s dream.  We loved it all.

We weren’t quite acclimated to Marrakech (our time was too short); we needed another day to get our bearings.  But we got by with basic French, directing the taxi driver to the rental car agency.  (I’m inspired to take it back up and re-learn French.  And we couldn’t be prouder of Everett who was learning Arabic quickly). 

 

Nerves were high as we picked up our rental car – thinking the entire interaction might be “en Francais.”  The car pickup was luckily fairly straightforward (in English).  In the rainy morning we bought a few essentials (water, toilet paper, snacks) before departing Marrakech, not knowing what to expect in the desert.  The city driving seemed confusing and hectic – speedy scooters, donkey carts, and aggressive round-abouts.  Ken watched too many YouTube videos about bad rental car companies and police checkpoints, putting us on high alert.  

 

After a windy afternoon crossing the mountains, we relaxed and stopped for a night at Ait Ben Haddou, an ancient kasbah (fortified houses) made of adobe (mud and straw) in the foothills of the Atlas Mountains.  We visited in the evening after most of the tourists had left, crossing the dry waterway on foot.  The wind nearly blinded us.  In its tourist shops, oddly, we found more Stars of David than in Poland.  We even picked up our first hitchhikers - two American girls - who both spoke Arabic and needed a lift to the nearby town’s taxi stand.

Next, we drove up the curving Dades Gorge, a valley oasis through a plateau of fruit trees.  The red sand contrasting against green palm trees made for a stunning view below.  That evening and again the next morning, Ken and Everett enjoyed the hotel pool “cold plunge.”  Refreshed, we drove up a second canyon, this one the Todras Gorge – with its vertical red cliffs, mountain goats, and coffee (in a cave of course).  

Each day we appreciated the Moroccan cuisine flavors more and more: unlimited sugary mint tea (aka Berber Whiskey – poured from as high as one can), tagine (cooked vegetables or meat in a clay pot), couscous, eggplant, dates, heaping (and I mean heaping) piles of olives, and fruit platters.  And, to our delight, coffee was served from the back of roadside vans.

We continued towards the Algerian border – encountering dust and more dust.  Our guesthouse manager suggested we stop at an ancient underground irrigation canal system.  The channels were designed to move water down slopes without pumping.  Underground it was refreshingly cool.  Mostly we loved our guides (father/son duo) and their entertaining demeanor.  

A few hours of barren landscapes... until…

 

Arriving at the edge of the Sahara Desert, we stared in awe.  Seeing the world’s largest desert for the first time (eyes doing tricks?) – an intoxicating magic.  It sounds cliché, but it was an experience of a lifetime unlike any other.  Imagine driving and seeing mountains in the distance… then realizing… the mountains are sand as far as the eye can see!  Nothing will ever compare to this mystifying sight.

We transferred from our rental car to a 4WD to get to our desert camp (it wasn’t far, maybe ten minutes, but our Corolla couldn’t handle the sand dunes).  We stayed two nights in a desert glamping tent, albeit the toilet/shower didn’t really work.  Nevertheless, we were in the Sahara Desert!!!!!  The first evening we rode camels to a sunset spot overlooking the dunes.  I have never admired a sunset more. 

 

Everett was a rockstar at sandboarding (aka snowboarding on sand).  Ken did surprisingly well too for not being a snowboarder.  Dinner was served in a large tent and we enjoyed chatting with the other guests (all Europeans), along with a fire and Berber music.

 

On our second day, during a hot sandstorm we were lucky to access a hotel pool (where we parked our rental car).  We also drove a little south and watched an African drum circle.  We went desert shopping (non-stop haggling) and found ice cold Powerade (score!).  That evening the boys rode quad (4-wheeler) bikes (yes, Everett had a chance to drive).  The sunset was obscured due to the sandstorm and we tried to stay cool that evening, as the dinner tent was scorching hot.

Leaving the desolate dunes of the Sahara, we headed back west but on a more southern route.  It was a long day of driving through remote villages – much of our trip was in the car as cities were 4-6 hours apart.  To stay entertained: I Spy…. 100 Bottles of Beer… every thinkable version of the Alphabet Game.  Ken booked a gorgeous hotel overlooking the palm desert (hmm…funny how our budget magically increased when he reserved the hotel). 

 

We spent another full day driving towards the ocean: argan oil shops on every corner, lots of wild cats, so many police checkpoints, and ridiculous speed limits (desert straight-aways at 37 MPH / 60 KPH ?!?)  Larger cities had tree lined boulevards with flower filled medians leading into town, along with either city gates or giant elaborate archways.  

After a week in the desert, our car and hair full of sand, we reached the modern beach resort town of Agadir.  We again made a last-minute booking at a quaint hotel with kittens and a turtle in the courtyard.  Ken went out late in the evening to get us dinner.  He drove through the Friday evening chaos – in the dark (no street lights) but with kids popping wheelies in the street, women in black abayas (impossible to see in the dark!) and taxi cabs randomly parked on the road.  Upon his return, shawarma in hand, he emphatically stated, “We only drive during the day!”

And we can’t conclude without a word about the people.  Humor and humility go a long way here.  A “bonjour” or “assalam” with a smile and people are instantly friendly.  They have a deeply respectful culture and have been kind towards us.  Yes, there was non-stop haggling but it was always good-natured (they loved Ken’s antics and seemed to have “Dad Joke” humor themselves - “Buy turban, it’s good for picture.”  “WIFI code very difficult, 12345”).  This might be the most family friendly culture we’ve encountered – nearly every shopkeeper gave Everett a hug or fist bump and engaged with him in a positive way.  I don’t know if it’s only directed towards tourists, but Morocco could not have been more welcoming.  

 

Now, we have arrived in Essaouira – an artsy (and windy!!) Atlantic coastal city with a lovely beachfront promenade lined with basketball/soccer courts and hundreds of kite surfers out in the distance.  It’s Saturday night and I hear seagulls.  And call to prayer.  And loud Arabic dance music.  The trendy city comes alive with a beachy energetic night vibe.  

 

This country has charmed us and captured our hearts.  As our trip begins to wind down, we are exactly where we need to be.

Gdansk, Poland

This is getting repetitive… but we took another stress-free train ride through rolling hills to another beautiful European city, this time the Baltic seaport of Gdansk, Poland.  The entire city was re-created after WW2!  Upon arrival we hopped on a ‘short bus’ – some kind of miniature, handicap-accessible bus with only a few seats.  Gdansk was charming and not too crowded, even though we stayed in the touristy Main Town.  Many languages were spoken (German, Swedish, French, etc.) and we enjoyed blending in (store owners assumed we spoke either Polish or German).  We enjoyed sitting at the beautifully arranged cafes near the Neptune Fountain and people watching (Hillary with a glass of red wine, Ken with apple strudel) and Everett loved the street performers.  A highlight was a sunny afternoon walk along a zigzag patterned moat/waterway.  There was an enlightening and disturbing WW2 Museum, a street of amber boutiques, a famous harbor crane, endless picturesque buildings, and a military parade.  We spent an afternoon at the mall and Everett picked out a new outfit from H&M – he outgrew every outfit he brought only eight months ago.  For homeschool this week we read “The Boy in the Striped Pajamas.” Tailoring the curriculum to whatever country we are in = amusing challenge.  We truly enjoyed Poland.

One final train took us from Gdansk across the border to Berlin, Germany, a comfortable six-hour journey.  Upon arriving at the modern Berlin train station, we stored our luggage in lockers and walked around the city for a few hours.  (Sidenote: We are ‘so over’ trip planning that we outsourced our work to Chat GBT 4o … our new travel agent!  You can take Ken out of online Ads, but you can’t keep him off the tech blogs.  He had to use the latest Chat GBT release that came out just this week).  We strolled from the Brandenburg Gate to Checkpoint Charlie, stopping for coffee and more people watching.  We really appreciated our brief evening in Berlin and decided we should have stayed for a few days -- as the city was really lovely.  (Sidenote: Ryanair had a screaming deal for 17 euros so we didn’t have much flexibility).  We ate a healthy dinner at the train station (salads!) and took a local train to our hotel near the airport.  Bright and early, we headed to the Berlin airport.  We walked throughout the airport for Everett’s favorite activity - plane-spotting - and then boarded our four-hour flight.  The seats were so tiny, but for 17 euros we couldn’t complain.

Europe, you were a smorgasbord of unbelievable destinations, excellent transportation, and fantastic cuisine… but we had to head south for some excitement … Marrakech, Morocco!

Krakow, Poland

We had no idea what Poland had to offer.  Ken wanted to visit Auschwitz and we believed Poland would be an affordable European destination.  That combined with our limited knowledge about Ken’s family history, we really didn’t know what to expect.  In our naïve minds we pictured Post WW2 + 1986 communism, which couldn’t have been farther from the truth of the cultural richness and bustling city that we found.

 

Our Polish journey began as we arrived on a train after a six-hour ride from Austria (via Chechia).  We assumed Poland used the euro, but quickly discovered the contrary at the train station.  Oops, time to grab some zloty.  (Note to self re: homeschool curriculum.  Brush up on the differences between: Europe, the EU, the euro, and Schengen).

 

We hopped on the convenient city train (love European transit!) to our AirBnB in the former Jewish district.  The neighborhood was super trendy (vintage shops, expensive coffee, high end restaurants), with a mix of crumbling graffitied buildings and new renovations on every block.  Flocks of tourist groups wandered throughout the neighborhood at all hours, visiting the synagogues near our place (either walking tours or via golf carts).

 

Krakow turned out to be a totally underrated and unique, modern city – and a wonderful introduction to Poland.  It was such a charming place with endless activities, green space, and nearly all adults spoke English (less so for the kids).  

 

The international food options were unlimited so we had to eat Hillary’s new favorite cuisine (Georgian food).  There were several outdoor food-truck courtyards and the weather was perfect.  Ken went out late (8pm!) to try the infamous street vendor sausages (sadly, overrated). Trendy bars and restaurants were around every corner.  The food left a positive impression on us: challah French toast, potato pancakes, sauerkraut pasta, pierogi (dumplings), pistachio donuts, and kielbasa (sausage).  The prices were more expensive than we expected ($20 pastrami??), but Everett got hooked on the cheap sausages from the corner market so we did alright.

On our first day we found a delightful park – and Ken met a local while playing basketball.  We had a few beautiful sunny days exploring the Old Town.  The Jewish history walking tour was a highlight for us.  Our guide was intelligent and genuine – it was her first day giving the tour so she was a little nervous.  She did a wonderful job explaining a very complex history as we walked amongst the Jewish historical sites.

 

Ken tried three times, unsuccessfully, to visit Schindler’s factory (either closed or huge lines).  But, he did make it to a museum dedicated to a Polish pharmacist who was the only non-Jew allowed in the Jewish Ghetto during the Nazi occupation.  We also saw the former site (now a plaza) where seventy chairs represented the discarded furniture of the Jews who were inhumanely displaced.

Schindler's Factory

Auschwitz is not recommended for kids under 14, so unfortunately, Ken had to visit solo.  He rode the train there and joined a three-hour English-guided tour.  It was a traumatic day for him, and well, it’s hard to explain unless one has visited a concentration camp before.  Too many emotions to process.  Too much horror.  Ken, the ever-extrovert, did not say a word all day.  He came home in a daze and slept from 7:30pm to 7:30am the next day.   

Gates into Auschwitz: German letters above saying "Work Will Set You Free"

On a lighter note, an afternoon was spent at the Polish Aviation Museum.  Now we can tell you WAY too much about the MIG-21.  When your child is an aviation enthusiast, an afternoon of Soviet aircraft is a huge win.

 

Needing to get some energy out, Everett spent time at an indoor trampoline park.  Unfortunately, in his excitement he threw his body so hard, he hit a metal pole and we had to depart early with a rib injury.  He was very disappointed (but not to worry, he recovered less than 24 hours later).

From monuments, history, food, to the terrors of Auschwitz, it overwhelmed our senses and we really fell in love with the city.  Pictures can hardly do justice to the beauty of Krakow.  We will return.