Safi!

The 1st of December

  We arrive in the seaside city of Safi (renowned for pottery and sardines) 

  Standing out in the crowd like money in the dirt, we look around the deserted block for a

cheap hostel to drop off our bags.

  Across the road, we're being frantically waved over by a man and girl at a cafe/diner.

Theres nothing else around, so we go over and ask if they could direct us to a cheap

hostel (its about to rain, now, so we seem a bit cold and desperate).

  After a few minutes of giving us directions, the young girl

decides we can stay at her house for 2 euro each.  We agree on this, and can

leave our bags at the restaurant until 7:30; when she finishes work.  We  the syruppy

tea at the restaurant until the rain stops, and head off to explore Safi.

Safi is one of my favourite towns in Morocco.  The streets leading to the sea are full of

cheap and delicious street stores selling variantions of fish.  As in all of Morocco,

(save Casablanca) streets are lined with men who could be bbqing meat, deep frying meat,

deep frying/bbq-ing vegetables (eggplant, onion etc), or fish or simply offering boiled egg

with cheese which are then mixed into a sandwich with spicy sauces and onion or whatever

you want.  They're so delicious.  Otherwise, the local bean soup - or a soup made of snails

 is cooked along the street in large pots.

So Safi was really active - the streets were full of families laughing, cooking,

eating, shopping, playing etc and you could feel such good energies.

We wound our way into the old Madina and was caught admiring some amazing pottery

at the doorway to a teenie shop.  The man caught us and began to show us his work and then

insisting he take a photo of me whilst I worked for him (I was just decorating clay pots)

 - I said no no no (everything costs you) but I was sat down and soon enough we all sat down

on whatever he had - his jeans, his jacket, some cardboard,

and he began to teach us burber, as David taught him hebrew.  Everyone who

passed would say hello - salam allehkum - as the town is just so friendly.

Suddenly we were off, as he led us through the streets to what we thought would

be his workshop.  We're taken to a stunning view of the port to see the sun set, and then

 to an auspicious hilltop overlooking the whole city where lay an old and well kept synagogue.

For the first time in Morocco, police guarded the synagogue. Most synagogues across Europe 

have the same: uptight security which questions your purpose of visit - its rather

repulsive and completely destroys any spiritual vibes.  But these police were a bit different;

after our visit they questioned where we were staying that night.  'With a friend we met

at a cafe' i replied 'it's ok, she's really nice...' etc etc.

  They were suspicious but let us go (pulling out their walkie-talkies as we did so)

So we head off back to the cafe to meet the girl, and through the market streets we were

stopped again by some police.  "Where are you going? Do you have a hostel?"

  We explained the same story, though were beginning to feel a bit anxious as we noticed

that the police were following us through the streets.

  I got a bit nervous.  In Morocco there are strict laws where you need a permit to perform

whatever job you do.  This goes for guides also - if your guiding tourists you need a permit.

I suspected the police wanted to find this girl and fine her for taking us in without a hostel

manager permit, or something.

  Or perhaps we looked dodgy ourselves, sneaking through the streets with some whack story

of what we're up to...

  Everyone told me to relax. Though after we stopped for sweets (the patisseries are delish!)

we were haltered again by two policemen.

  They've been told there are four foriegners wandering the streets without a hostel. 

  Are we OK?

Yes, we're fine! We explain the story a third time.

  "Who is this girl your staying with?" They question us, "How many nights here? Only

one! You must stay more... But do you have her phone number? No?

 Then what will you do if she's not there?"

... (good question)

  Find a hostel?

The Police say that they'll follow us there on motorbikes to make sure everythings OK,

typically, we find ourselves lost before too long, but no problem: we ask the police trailing

 us for directions and he says to wait where we are - he'll grab his car and drive us there.

  Turning up with the Police!!! I feel like such a snitch to the lovely girl from the cafe,

but the policeman was being equally kind...

  When we arrive at the cafe the policeman waits in the shadows across the road, and lucky

he waited for the girl looks really apologetic

- her mother says we cant stay, in the end, and she's really sorry and - mid sentence -

the Policeman walks in (ope! awkward...) the girl looks betrayed.  he insists on driving us

 to a hostel.  All is good! The girl needn't feel guilty - as she seemed - any longer.

  Along the drive, the policeman begins to apologise - he'd love to have us stay at his house,

but he's working all night.  We must stay in Safi another night, at his house, so that

he can give us a tour of Safi.

  I tell him we'll have to discuss plans first, and he gives me his number

  (See I'm the designated "speaker" of the group, as I have french and arabic to work with

and english is lacking.  Thus any costs come down to my bartering skills (which are improving,

though my dread for doing it is painful) and any unanticipated events along the road are generally

to my fault or, as I usually see it, fortune) 

  I explain to the policeman that we want the cheapest hostel around and then, my goodness, he offers to

give us any money we need to make the costs.

no no no no.  Gosh, the extravagence of Moroccan hospitality!

  We find a hostel and go out for tea with some cool british tourists we meet there, trading travel

stories - my new hobby!

'what kind of tip is this photo going to cost me...?'

didnt even notice the cannon ...

soup stall by a madina's exterior walls

our friend the potter
(forgot his actual name)

he took us to a perfect sunset spot

david and the potter wandering up the highest hill to the synagogue

typical steet in madina

im afraid my amazing photos arent uploading well, im sorry, i think theyre the best part of the blog