My Crazy Day in Morocco

Welcome to Morocco! You hear this a lot here. It really has a double meaning. In addition to welcoming you to their country, it’s also their way of explaining away some of the crazy things that happen here. This story is about my crazy day in Morocco.

Morocco doesn’t have the same infrastructure as western countries, so sometimes crazy things happen. Pulling together to help each other through these times seems to be a part of their culture. This is my story of one such crazy day in Morocco, as a solo female traveler, and how locals helped me through it.

It starts with me running through the souks of Old Fez at 9 AM, in a drizzly cold rain

I have my luggage, and am wearing flip flops, trying to avoid muddy, puddles on the uneven cobblestones.

No cars are allowed inside Old City Fez, where my Riad was. Because of this, I have to walk 20 minutes through the maze of winding streets to the Blue Gates for a taxi. I’m running mainly to get out of the rain, but also due to the fear of taking a wrong turn and losing time.

Even though I’m sick (from the stress of my sudden departure from the Maldives and the drastic temperature change between the two countries), I’m feeling good about catching the 10:00 AM train to Tangier. My flight to Spain is at 9:30PM, more than 12 hours later, and I had plenty of time.

Thankfully, I find the Blue Gates without getting lost. The driver motions me to the front seat, as two people are already in the back.

Little do I know, I’ve already missed my 10:00 train

As the passenger window has been open in the rain, the taxi seat is wet. He brushes the water off the seat with a smile and gestures for me to sit. I’m already wet from my dash in rain, and only getting wetter while deliberating. I see no other taxis, so get in.

As all taxi drivers in Morocco do with tourists, he shrugs when I request the meter be turned on. He says, “no problem, just 20 dirhams”. I knew it should only be 15, and told him so, but decided not to waste my energy over the 50 cent difference. He probably needs it more than I do.

We arrived at the Fez station at 9:30 AM

When I arrive and try to buy a train ticket, I can’t understand why the official keeps telling me that the 10:00 train has already left. I double check my phone. It’s 9:30.

Daylight Savings Time was cancelled by the Government at the Last Minute

He told me that at the last minute, the previous night, the government decided not to turn back the clocks one hour, as they do every fall. I had read about it in the news the night prior, but expected my smartphone to adjust.

This link proves the craziness as it states daylight savings time was cancelled forever in October, 2018, but then reverted that decision in May, 2019

He starts asking why I’m single

As we’re texting, his questions started getting more personal. He thought I was beautiful. Was I single? Why? What was important to me in a relationship? He wanted me to write my relationship likes and dislikes into his phone. Moroccans are very family focused, so this line of questioning wasn’t too unusual.

I wasn’t crazy about it, but moving would mean standing, or sitting on the floor for a few hours. I tried stalling, pretending I didn’t understand why he was asking.

Then he wants to know if I’d kiss him goodbye

Thankfully, I was saved by his train. He had to leave to catch it. He did, however, ask for a kiss goodbye before leaving. I politely say no. I think westerners are perceived as being loose, but, of course, this is not true. He looks confused, but has to go. Instead we exchange Instagram info.

The 2:00 train arrives at 2:45

2.5 hours later, it’s 2:00, time for my train. I move outside to the cold, drizzly platform. 45 minutes later, the train arrives. Everyone pushes in for a seat (No queuing here). However 5 minutes later, a man starts yelling in Arabic that we need to get off.

We board, but then have to exit

Wrong train, right platform. No more details are given. My crazy day in Morocco is getting crazier. I’m starting to lose my energy, but it’s obvious that I’m not the only one frustrated. Some are traveling with small children, which would be even more challenging. I try to suck it up.

A woman near me starts yelling at the station employees. Still nothing, but they soon move us to a different platform. At 4:00 our 2:00 train arrived.

The 2:00 really arrives at 4:00

Everyone pushes on to claim their car. The 2nd class train is sectioned into cars with 8 seats. People are quickly deciding who they want want to share the car with for the next 4 hours.

A group waved me into their car. I was relieved as I didn’t have the energy to navigate the seating etiquette rules.

Our car included sisters in their 20’s or30’s with two kids, a young girl, and a middle-aged guy. 7 of us in a car designed for 8. I noticed they spread out and waved off others wanting to sit with us.

As the train filled up after later stops, they accepted three more people. First an older woman and then, a young girl with a newborn baby. It was mostly men standing in the aisles, letting the women and children sit. The 10 of us squished together in our car built for 8.

Getting chummy

Even though they didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak Arabic, beyond the basics, we got to know each other using gestures, facial expressions, and a few basic words. They were extremely kind to me. Loaning me a sweater, offering me their food and sharing their ‘lap blanket’ with me. It was really cold, so I was grateful.

Thankfully I bought cookies at the station, so I had something to share back. Through the trip, we acted as a pseudo family unit, helping each other. A stark contrast to what would happen in the same situation in the USA or EU. When the elderly lady went to the bathroom, someone walked her there, even though she was a stranger.

When the young girl with the baby had to go, she wordlessly put her baby on my lap. It didn’t matter that she did not know any of us, that I was coughing (a lot), or that her baby was only about 1 month old. I was simply expected to watch her baby while she was gone.

It took a while, but we made progress in conversation, learning a little about each other. They also learned I had to catch a 9:30 PM plane to Malaga, Spain.

Later, I saw Soad on the phone with a friend outside our car. She motioned me over and handed me her phone. I was surprised that the person on the other end spoke English. At first I didn’t understand, thinking he was asking for help, but then realized, he was offering to help me.

They offered me a ride to the Tangier airport

Having lost so much time already, I knew we probably wouldn’t get to get to Tangiers until 8:00 or 8:30 PM, leaving little time. I had already resigned myself to the craziness of the day and had started trusting Soad, so said yes. All gestures to pay for the ride were rejected.

The train finally rolled into Tangier’s train station at 8:30 PM. My flight was an hour away.

At this point, I was exhausted from being sick and having a crazy day in Morocco. Half-heartedly, I asked a few people on the platform about taxis. The group I was with, however, ignored this, wordlessly guided me on.

Finally, we find their friend and pile into his car. He helped to decipher a few things from the day, as he spoke English and Arabic. I think the original plan was to invite me to their house, but then they realized just how late I was and that I didn’t have time. That would have been awesome though.

Even more delays on my crazy day in Morocco

They wanted to drop off the older sister and kids first. I couldn’t argue as they were doing me a favor. When we finally get to the airport, the officials wouldn’t let them drop me off at the entrance, so we had to park across the street. Security, I guess.

Soad wanted more photos with me, so even though I was ridiculously late (my flight was supposed to leave in 15 minutes!), sick, cold and tired, I posed for a few. We exchanged hugs/kisses goodbye, (European style, with a kiss on each cheek) and I ran across the street to the airport.

I realized running was a bad idea when I saw the look of alarm on the security guard’s face, but he quickly figured it out and let me in.

I arrived at the airport at 9:15 for a 9:30 Flight!

The ticket area and was closed, so they shuffled me to an office where several guys were standing around. I explained I was trying to catch the flight to Malaga. I’ll never forget one guy looking at me and saying,

“You expect to show up at the airport 15 minutes before your flight and catch it?”

It had already been a crazy day in Morocco, so I made a face to explain I knew it was crazy, but…yes…please!

He made a call, then came back and said OK. They got me checked in, my baggage screened, and passport checked in 5 minutes flat. Thankfully, it’s a small airport! I raced to the gate, where I learned that my flight was delayed an hour. After all this, I’m technically right on time…even though it took me over 12 hours to get there!

Ha! The government can decide last minute not to change the clocks, but they can’t change international flight schedules

At least that’s why I’m guessing the flight was delayed. My crazy day in morocco just turned sane. Also, I was still smiling, inside, from the help of my newfound friends.

Welcome to Morocco!

Welcome to Morocco, where sometimes even mundane things become chaotic, but you end up meeting great people that help you. You just have to go with the flow and work together when you run into a crazy day in Morocco.

Looking back on this day, I still smile thinking about this day and how solo travel and getting to know the locals can be transformational. This day was definitely one of the highlights of all my transformational travel journeys.

To learn more about visiting Morocco, including top places to see, how to get around, logistics, scams, safety, and more, see my Travel Guide to Morocco.

Safe Travels!

Julie