14 Days in North Africa Part: 3

(Here's Part: 1&2 in case you missed them! https://steemit.com/travel/@heiditravels/14-days-in-north-africa-part-1
https://steemit.com/travel/@heiditravels/14-days-in-north-africa-part-2)

After that eventful night in the Sahara Desert I'm on my way to Tamnougalt Morocco, where Farouk's family lives. I'll be staying 4 nights in a huge, interconnected casbah. I meet his brother Javid. I'm not sure of the spelling but he pronounced it like "Jah-wed" (I tried not to laugh at his name to avoid coming off completely insensitive but when he first said his name I immediately thought he was trying to say Jared.) I also met Javid's wife and their 3 year old daughter.

Their house was very nice compared to the rough exterior. My room had intricate carvings along the doorways and I even had a balcony that gave me views of the palm trees and mountain ranges.

First thing I did was take a looong hot shower. Oh yeah! Hot water lasts about 2, maybe 3 minutes. I at least got a chance to shower off the bug guts and dust and sand that I brought back with me from the desert. I proceeded to then hand wash the rest of my clothes that I'd worn so far. Ah, the perks of traveling :) After getting a good forearm workout from lathering up and rinsing then wringing out my jeans, I lay them out on my patio to dry in the setting sun and head downstairs for what will be the best meal I'll ever have in Morocco.

Javid comes out with a large tagine and lifts the top to reveal a delicious bubbling sight of baked chicken on a pile of couscous with potatoes. I can't express my gratitude and excitement enough. I dig in. And it's everything I wished it would be. Juicy chicken and tender creamy couscous. After I feel like I've gained a good 10 pounds I back away from the table say my thank you's and head up to bed.

I should note that the main languages spoken in Morocco are Arabic and French. At this point I'm completely clueless in both of these languages. Javid's wife doesn't speak a lick of English, but luckily Javid knows a couple key phrases which he uses as often as possible. These include: No problem, tranquil, good sleepin'. He managed to hold an entire conversation with me using only these phrases- along with me trying my best charades attempt to express to him my side of the convo. It was interesting.

The doorways in this house are shorter than what I'm used to, they are about 5'6" feet tall. I'm 5'10" so I had to be careful to remember to duck. The first day there, Javid was giving me the tour and showing me my room, he left for a second while I set my bags down and took a look around. Just as I was exiting the bathroom I knocked my head said "Ouch!" while the mirror on the wall to fell to the ground and broke. Javid, being nearby, heard the commotion and came running in saying -I swear this is exactly what he said, I'll never forget it: "Oh, no problem?" (Pointing to his own head, referring to my own injury) "No problem!" (pointing to the mirror referring to the broken mirror). And continued to repeat these two variations of the phrase a couple more times to be sure I understood he was concerned about me and not the mirror. "No problem? No problem. No problem? No problem."

I take a walk through this small village and come across some simple but happy people, they're farmers hard at work after a long day but they still have a smile to share.

The next day I want to get out and explore, I see a mountain range near by and I've got boots on my feet. I tell the family my plans and they look at me with concern. I tell them I have experience with climbing and I will be careful.

Here's what I saw:

The hike itself was kind of challenging. The whole mountain was covered in fallen rock and thorny bushes. I saw massive locusts and mountain goats. I loved the view so much I hiked up that mountain three days in a row.

It was time for me to make my way back to Marrakesh where I have to board the plane that will take me back to Portugal. So I call up Farouk and he gives me a ride from the casbah back to Ouarzazate. I know where I'm headed, the old familiar Al Waha Hotel, which is very conveniently located directly across the street from the bus station. I wake up early the next morning to buy my ticket to Marrakesh. The men in the station remind me of bookies at a horse race with their pads of paper ready to sell bus tickets. The next morning I'm waiting at the station for my bus and I'm approached by a young man in his early 20's wearing a sleek red and black leather jacket- reminds me of Michael Jackson. I'm curious to see how he plans on scamming me out of some money. He tells me he can help me find the right bus that I'll be riding, I tell him I don't need any help but thanks anyway, of course he persists. So much so in fact that when my bus arrives (and I'm already aware that's the one I need) he literally follows me to the bus, claiming that he had helped guide me there. I go to the back of the bus where they're loading up people's luggage, I hand the man my backpack. This guy has the nerve to tell me I owe him for his help. I laugh and shake my head saying no. I make my way on to the bus with my new best friend. He stands in the walkway next to me, trying to convince me that I owe him. I keep looking him straight in the eyes and say no. There are other tourists sitting nearby who all look relieved that they don't have the same problem I do at this point. Well now the bus is starting up and he's gotta go. Reluctantly he leaves. I feel bad that this is how he has to make a living, but I wasn't gonna be the sucker to pay him for nothing.

OK so that ordeal was over and now for the super fun, super safe 4 hour bus ride from Ouarzazate to Marrrakesh that takes me through the beautiful Atlas Mountains.
Mountain roads in Morocco are exhilarating. The width is that of about one and a half lanes, and guard rails? They don't need no stinkin' guard rails. Our bus flies around blind corners and skims the edge of the road so many times at this point I'm in a constant state of prayer. I'm happy I chose a window seat, it gives me the vantage point of seeing exactly how far down we would roll if the tires drifted not even a foot further past where they are now.

The foliage is really interesting during the drive, I see cactus and palm trees at the same time that I see pine trees and green grass. (These are the thoughts going through my head while I try to distract myself from the crashing and falling death sure to happen at any second.) I look around and nearly every other passenger on this bus is gripping the handle on the back of the seat in front of them. I continue to pray for our safety.

Surprise! I make it to Marrakesh and I never thought I'd be so happy to get here.
One more night in Marrakesh and I'm on a plane headed North to Lisbon. After a full day of travel I make it back to my small apartment in Nazaré Portugal, and take that nice long hot shower I've been daydreaming about for the past two weeks.