It was just a 15-mile ride from Spain to Morocco on a large sea-going ferry. The Straits of Gibraltar was a bit rough, but not bad. We had to show our passports and go through customs before boarding the ferry and when we disembarked in Tangiers.
November is probably not the best time to be on any big sea or ocean, but it was my chance to visit Morocco and I wasn't going to let a little thing like sea swells stop me.
The Rock of Gibraltar looks just like it does in all the ads. Our bus stopped and we all jumped off for a a Japanese photo stop - hop off the bus, click, click the camera, and get back on the bus - before going to Algeciras, the seaport in Spain where we would catch the ferry to Tangiers in Morocco.
Morocco lived up to expectations. The streets were crowded with people. The men wore long gowns and caps. The outdoor markets were jammed with people. Women ran most of the stalls. There were piles of fruits, vegetables and spices, including saffron, which I was later sorry I didn't buy.
There even was an open, outdoor stall selling poultry, sausages and meat, all the meat and chickens hanging from racks. Vendors selling hand-carved (they said) camels, leather goods, including jackets and handbags, would get in front of you and try to get you to buy.
I'm not good at bargaining, but we were told that it is an insult not to bargain. My usual answer was, "Sorry, I only have $1," and I walked on. The street salesmen all spoke enough English to tell you that the leather handbag was so soft and only cost $20. If you looked like you might be interested, they followed you, touting their wares.
And they didn't give up. The result - my granddaughter now has a red leather hobo style handbag that cost me $11.
There also were small indoor shops selling jewelry, pottery, leather goods, shoes, shirts, etc. Prices were not negotiable in the shops.
One of the arranged stops was at a Rug Workshop. The manager told us about the rugs and we watched a woman working at a loom. The women spend five hours a day weaving the rugs. Any more time than that is too hard on their eyes, the manager said.
The prices quoted seemed to be negotiable. I gathered that if you bought at the first price, you were paying too much.
I was interested in a wool rug, but decided it was too expensive. By the time we left the workshop, the price was half of the original price and the salesman was throwing in the shipping costs. I really didn't need the rug, beautiful as it was, so I left without buying it.
Our group of touristas had reservations for lunch at a restaurant where we were entertained by a small band and a dancer. The restaurant was on the second floor of a large building. You walked up on an outside staircase to get into the restaurant.
Entertainment was a small band and a dancer dressed in a Moroccan costume. This was not a belly dancer, but a woman who moved slowly between the tables with gentle hip movements and a fully clothed body.
When it came time to return to the seaport later in the afternoon, the sky was getting darker. The short nine-mile ride back to Spain was very rough. I have been seasick twice in my life, once on the Caribbean and once on the Atlantic by Norway.
Fortunately, I was somehow able to avoid getting seasick. But I sure was happy when we reached the Spanish port. It really was a rough crossing. I was glad to get back to our hotel in Torrelmores.
