Day 1 – March 1st – Bologna – Nice
On which we set off for a new life
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Ready to go
Our plan was to leave around 9 o’clock. But we have breakfast with the rest of the family, and we’re not completely packed up so that we don’t actually leave until a bit later. I’m satisfied though because the car is not completely packed full, and I interpret that as a good sign, leaving some room for the good things to come. Fiona is busy with lists and organising everything, Giugiu and Sofia are in a good mood. Off we go.
The drive is quite smooth and fast. Play car games until excitement is provided courtesy of many many tunnels. Quick stop for orange juice, until we reach the coast in Liguria, turn west and stop for lunch in Noli. Noli is a very nice little village, but expensive, like most of the coast here.We see the sea for the first time of the year but I am disappointed to realize that it doesn’t smell. Expectation not met.
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Noli
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It seems so long ago
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After lunch we resume, drive into France, pay some tolls, arrive in Nice, get lost a little bit but not too bad, park quite easily, check in our reserved hotel near the station. It’s the evening, we’re all tired but we head down towards the centre along the main road looking for a decently cheap place to eat. No luck, the result is that we never really get to the centre or the famous promenade, Sofia is looking like she could fall on the floor any minute and I feel the same. We enter the first restaurant with dishes under 10€. Only after we get the menus do I realize it’s a Vietnamese restaurant. That doesn’t help my feeling sick, but once we start eating everything gets better and we all enjoy the soup. Giugiu and Sofia enjoy the ‘castle’ beds in the hotel and we sleep well.
Day 2 – March 2nd – Nice – Sete
On which I find out that friendship need not fade away
After breakfast in the hotel room we set off on our drive through France. The road leaves the coast and goes through pine forests and mountains. We pay a lot of tolls. We’re meeting Flo in Aix-en-Provence. A few days before leaving I thought we could stop in Nice to sleep, and I associated that city with Flo who I think used to live there. I searched his name on Google and found his email address, wrote him 3 lines and as easy as anything he replied ‘let’s meet in Aix’.
Flo is an old soul mate of mine. We shared life in Katelios for a few months back in 2002, my first year in Kefalonia when we both volunteered from the spring into the summer. We connected from the beginning and we had made good friends, then we both went back to our lives and didn’t talk much after that. My brain says that we met again on a trip to France during winter 2005, but can’t find any information related to that. Anyway we arrive in Aix on a beautiful sunny Saturday. We meet Flo and Paolina on the Rotonde, walk around a bit, grab some sarnies, go to a playground, spend a long time talking about the sea, swimming, fish and such things, walk some more till we get tired and say goodbye. I deliberately tried not to think about this meeting too much beforehand so I wouldn’t have any special expectations. In leaving I am hit by a wave of how surprisingly easy it was to communicate and find common ground even after more than 10 years. I think it’s mostly due to the fact that we were similar types and over the years we ended up liking similar things anyway. He invites us to camp in his garden on our way back or whenever and to do some snorkelling together, and I don’t need to hear it a second time to take it on. When the time comes I’ll make sure we dedicate a few days to a stop in Southern France.
The rest of the drive feels long, my back’s aching a bit, the girls are now feisty from spending too many hours in the car, we don’t really appreciate that it’s the Camargue. The worst part of the day is yet to come though. We finally arrive in Sete, stop at a supermarket to buy some dinner and food for the boat, get to the port, I queue for tickets 3 times after forgetting papers or simple misunderstanding, we queue before passport control, we queue after passport control and we all lose our patience a bit. Then we get on the boat, where the crew is all Italian, the cabin not so clean but we’re on, we leave on time and that’s good.
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With Paolina
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In Aix
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With Flo
Day 3 – March 3rd – Sea crossing
On which we cross the Med
We spend the whole day on the ferry. In the morning we spend some time in the playroom with a bunch of Moroccan kids. Giugiu is quite open to them, and it’s the first but not last time she’ll surprise me with this change in her shyness. Sofia is not feeling too well still, and I blame mostly that for her insecurity but I don’t know how right I am.Fiona says it’s that the kids are older than her, but not all of them are. Anyhow we hang around the boat for the rest of the day, I play with the gps which tells us we’ll arrive in Nador much later than the declared 6am, spend some time out on the deck. We have dinner at the self-service, big portions of pasta.
We go to bed knowing we’ll be in Morocco the next day, with the boat rocking decisively.
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At the end of a long day
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Pink on blue
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Up and down the boat
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Morocco! It’s there!
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On the list of H&S gone funny
Day 4 – March 4th – Nador – Al Hoceima
On which we hit our first destination and have our first close encounters with the local population
We are woken up by the boat announcements that we’re approaching Nador, we get out and there it is. Morocco, Africa in its full rainy gray splendor.
Breakfast at the self-service again. Thanks to our long experience in boat travels, we do not follow the crowd in its pointless frenzy to get off the boat. Instead, we take it easy, walk along the deck, smell the air, watch the coast, and wait, not too long. It’s all very quick, it’s still earlyish morning when we land. I thought it might take a while to go through the Moroccan customs, but my expectations are exceeded. We park the car in what resembles a multi-tentacled queue and myriads of touts turn up. One grabs my passport, scribbles on some paper, keeps the paper then points me to another queue. In this other queue, where people stand in a line, things go normal if somewhat slowly. This is where we need to get all our passports stamped, and I am amazed a) to see that, of the hundreds of people on the boat, there seem to be only 20-30 people here; b) that they don’t visually check all the people coming into Morocco, women and children are exempted, there are only adult males here. I also consider that c) there are 2 officers to check the whole boat, all in all not a lot and d) as I am waiting in the line a couple of people come to me with some questions, addressing me in Arabic as the most normal thing in the world, even after I stare at them in complete blankness. We pass onto a second queue for the car, much quicker. They have a quick look and let us go. I reject the tout’s offer to get to the front of this second queue because he held the place for me. I am puzzled by the lack of request for an insurance, a case not contemplated in the guidebooks.
First task is exchanging some money, easily accomplished because the bank is just there. Then to get car insurance. We’re directed to one and find out it only does Moroccan cars. I drop off the family at a cafè and get on the ask. I ask at some other office, but I get hijacked by some other touts. Eventually I find a small insurance office that evokes a lot more third world images than what I have seen so far. The insurance guy literally rips me off charging some 150Dh over the nominal price, I feel already overwhelmed by what seemed like an impossible task for a good half hour so I give in without much protest. After I’ve paid he asks for more, which pisses me off, and off I go. Then I have to tip the tout who followed brought me there, and the one who looked after the car.
We leave the port behind, drive through Nador which is quite big, get a little lost. Then we take the coastal road West, and it’s beautiful. It’s a new, fast road, the sea on the right and the mountains on the left. Impressive rocks and colours. Olive trees. River beds. Not many cars or people.
Maybe distracted by beautiful scenery, we get stopped at yet another police check, this time they say I’m speeding, 80km/h on a limit of 60, on a clear straight road, the end of limit sign is just 100m ahead. 500Dh fine, welcome to Morocco. Then we stop for petrol, at least that’s cheap, about 80c/l, half than in Italy.
Arrive in Al Hoceima. It’s big, fairly modern and of a size that we can find our way around easily enough. I scan the cheap hotels just after tajine lunch. Hotel is cheap and looks all right, but actually there’s no water coming from shower and windows have a funny blue tint. Not too clean either on second look, and room very humid.
We walk to the main square and spend the afternoon there, overlooking the city beach. Then go back to hotel, Fi gets some sarnies to eat in the room for dinner and we sleep early.