Just the Two of Us (in Morocco’s Blue City)

January 31, 2025|Rick Juliusson

We don’t know what to do. Our boys have left us - off to Portugal for four days of Bro Time (our Christmas gift to them) then back to their real lives - and we’re feeling once again the Empty Nesting Blues and trying to get our travel mojo back.

Morocco has been great for our family, but turns out not to be a place we need more time in. Food choices are limited for the way we want to be eating. Our defences have to be so high against scammers and sellers in the streets that we end up feeling closed off to healthy interactions with the other Moroccans who genuinely want to engage. I came here expecting to LOVE Morocco, thinking we’d end up staying another month for an Istanbul-like immersion experience, but instead we find ourselves ready to move on and unclear where that should be.

What we really want is for it to already be January 27 when we start a month of cosy small-town English-speaking non-touristy walk-the-dogs-daily routine life of dog-sitting in the UK. Not feeling excited about another town with another ancient Medina market, another Roman ruin, another amazing cultural and culinary and linguistic lesson. After this spell of full-on travel through Cyprus and Morocco, we’re ready to settle again for a spell, and get used to Just the Two of Us (we can make it if we try...)

Chefchaouen - Morocco’s “Blue Pearl”

We choose to start our renewed empty-nesting time in Chefchaouen, a small mountain town famous for being awash with blue, begun in the 1930s by Jewish refugees fleeing Europe. Why the blue? Some say it represents the sky, heaven, and God's power, and is a reminder to lead a spiritual life. Some say blue represents the Mediterranean Sea. And more pedantic theories are that the blue colour deters mosquitoes, who might mistake it for water, or that it keeps homes cool during the summer.

And of course, the cynics say (correctly) that it attracts hordes of tourists like us to wander the beautiful streets. And, evidently, to smoke up. The mountain paths lead to rich cannabis farms, and we are constantly offered “Hashish?” in conspiratorial muted tones - it’s illegal, but high-up government officials are involved in the trade. For a few days we rest, refuse drugs, walk the hilly cobblestone streets, and plot our next steps.

Tangier

We decide to spend a few days in Tangier, one of those cities on the I’ve-Heard-About-But-Know-Nothing About list. Lonely Planet sums it up, “A port town on the cusp of Europe and Africa, Tangier skillfully balances competing cultures, merging them into a beautiful, harmonious blend that only a place this relaxed could pull off. Its long-standing liberal attitude towards vice made Tangier an attractive base camp for the Beat Generation of the 1950s, whose booze-soaked explorations of the city and hash-infused creative sessions at local hotels and cafes put it on the map for Westerners.”

We stay a block from the Strait of Gibraltar, across which Europe (Spain, Gibraltar) so close it looks swimmable. Car horns rise up in regular symphonic chaos from the roundabout as I do workouts on the terrace. A twenty-minute walk takes us into the historic walled city - to the base of it, actually, then a whole lotta steep climbing to get up into it. A half-hour walk takes us to a 3rd floor doctor’s office to get Sarah’s knee injections. Basically, it’s a pleasant, easy 3 days to take care of business, cook fresh seafood, and satisfy a tiny “What is Tangiers” itch, like one more tiny section of our Colour-the-World mosaic filled in with our own crayons.

We may be close to Europe, but our post office experience reminds us we’re definitely still in Africa. We stand in line for close to an hour, only to be told we need photocopies of our passports. After several wrong directions we find the copy store down an alley and thankfully the machine works. The post office also only takes cash, so we hit a nearby ATM (unlike Cuba, they are plentiful, no-line-ups, and almost all have cash to dispense). Back at the post office, the helpful lady lets us slip back to the front of the long line, but then has to bark at a few co-workers to conjure up packing tape to secure our precious box. After a long spell of typing info into the computer, a packing label is printed and our shipment of Turkish scarves, a few more unnecessary clothes, and souvenir fridge magnets is off to Canada and our travel bags are another 8 kg lighter. Two hours and $35 well spent (?)

That's Europe's lights across the water (top left)

The beginning of Africa

Rubber chicken, real pigeons

Tangier's walls

Rejuvenated, we feel ready to adventure again (flying to Tunisia after 3 days here). Remembering that, as much as we love our children, we also love each other, love exploring and growing, sometimes pushing boundaries and sometimes just vegging (normal living, wherever we find ourselves), together.

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2 Comments

Lynda Juliusson on February 1, 2025 at 12:16 am

I love the 2 photos of the 2 of you best. 🙂
hugs all around.

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Heidi on February 1, 2025 at 1:02 am

Cheers to two very lucky people, who deserve each other.

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