"Where all think alike there is little danger of innovation" - Edward Abbey
The
Sahara Desert is out of this world, but it is also out of the way.
Traveling south to the Moroccon border with Algeria meant I then
needed to travel back north to France, through Morocco and also
Spain. I decided against flying because it would have been more
expensive and also because I wanted to stop in a few places on the
return trip. Very well, I began on a shuttle from the Sahara to some
small city in Southern Morocco (forgive me for not remembering the
name), and from there, took a bus to Fez – a ten hour bus to Fez.
How it takes a bus ten hours to travel 400 km is a question for the
Moroccon government, not me. Maybe it was the rotaries every 2
kilometers, or maybe the tight turns going over the Atlas Mountains,
or maybe even the police checkpoints for seemingly no reason at all;
but maybe it was something else!
Let me take this opportunity to provide an insider traveling tip:
Africa is fucking hot! I could handle the time it took on the bus;
traveling a lot has a way of dulling the pain of idleness, but the
heat was almost unbearable. The bus had no air conditioning, and
also windows that didn't open – great design Morocco, and to add on
an extra layer of uncomfortable, there was a full house of sweating
passengers. If it sounds real bad, imagine it twenty times worse and
you may start to get the picture.
I
feel I should say a little something about the Moroccon Police Force;
the ones who carry around guns with duck-taped handles. On that
never ending ride in the grill, we were stopped, as mentioned, many
times by law enforcement, or at least that's what they call
themselves - I'm not sure what law they enforce. One particular incident was revealing. They boarded the
bus and walked directly to the back, where three men from Senegal and
myself were sitting. Since we all looked different; three black guys
and a white guy, our passports were checked. No big deal, but then
the Senegalese men were taken off the bus for further questioning and
with no cause at all, their bags were searched. I'm not sure the
atrocities ended there either, as I was not outside with them at the
time, but I can say they were all taken away in separate cars. My
U.S. Passport saved me a lot of trouble and inconvenience; something
I can't say about my travel neighbors, but I suppose that is the way
of corrupt countries, like it or not.
By
and by, I made it to Fez and spent the night. The next morning I
went to Tangier and then over the water to Tarifa, Spain - Back in
Europe! Tarifa is a small city on the intersection of the Atlantic
ocean and the Mediterranean, and therefore is extremely windy. It is
the kite-surfing capital of the world. In the ocean, there are
hundreds participating in this activity, but on the beach, no one is
sun bathing, or throwing frisbees, or building sand castles; it is
just too windy - the strangest beach I've been to, that much I'm
sure. Anyways, this is where I spent some time to break up my long
trip to France. Nothing interesting happened during my stay there,
which is a good thing for a place one wishes to rest, but my theory
of Southern Spain having the most attractive women in the world was
verified. This conclusion is the result of a lifetime of
investigation and vigorous scientific methodology.
From
Tarifa, I took a bus to Algeciras, - from Algeciras, I took a train
to Madrid, - From Madrid, I missed the last train to Barcelona –
From Madrid, I took the metro to the other train station in Madrid –
from the other train station in Madrid, I caught an overnight train
to Barcelona. In Barcelona, I spent a night with Matt (fourth time
we've met on my trip). From Barcelona, I took a train to Cerbere –
from Cerbere, I took a train to Avignon,..........FRANCE! I never
imagined in my life I would be so happy to be in France. That
happiness lasted until I heard the French language again. I wonder
when the next flight to the Sahara Desert is?
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