It’s another world out there in Morocco, but I didn’t feel alienated at all. Despite grappling with Spanish and French and Arabic, everything seemed to make sense. Our bus stopped in the middle of our trip to Tangiers from the port. We were all treated to a meal of eggs, chick pea soup, sweets, corn bread, etc. Quite a friendly welcome in the heart of confusion and not knowing where to sleep yet, but it felt like almost home.
Silence at the ancient Medina and the modern Newville. Like a ghost town, apparently as it was prayer time until midnight. Otherwise, almost the whole day, people would be hanging out in lawns and city squares. By the broken-down palace, children would give you a tour for a coin or two. Overlooking the ongoing construction down below and the sea, where the Mediterranean meets the Atlantic, you can see a glimpse of Tarifa, southernmost tip of West Europe.