- Waka Waka, eh eh.
An itch to go to Africa and see what Toto was going on about...and true to form, I got in on a 12:30 flight and everything!
Sooooo, as a basic gay with an affinity for seeing Muslim countries and understanding very little French, no Berber, or Arabic; I was not exactly the ideal tourist to spend time in Morocco. The culture in the city of Agadir is a mix of influences from all over Europe albeit mostly French. After near total destruction from an earthquake in 1960, the city needed help from other countries to rebuild and what you see today is roughly 60 years old. A very young city compared to the outlying areas, yet it managed to retain a sense of its self in the rebuild. Its like if the movie Enough had been about a city and earthquake was Mitch. You go girl.
.... I could make a killing as a dentist in this city, easily. “You don’t have to floss all your teeth, just the ones you want to keep” was on my mind all week. Happy people everywhere were super welcoming and very eager to entertain you. Me as Karen Smith: “So, if you’re from Africa why are you white?”**
Impromptu drum beating with arbitrary rhythms plagued the promenade that runs 7KM down Agadirs coastline. Crusty jugglers, acrobats, and shady bracelet pandering characters abound, it was easy to people watch no matter where you looked. It gave me a level of uncertainty on whether I’d be offered a quest for a magic lamp from Jaffar in disguise or end up with some sweet knitted bracelets that would be the envy of any 4th grade girl. Either way, I was loving this vibe.
The first venture I took out of the hotel was a tour to explore the Kasbah. You can’t miss this thing, it’s up on a mountain overlooking the city and is scribed in Arabic that reads “God. King, Country” all lit up with spot lights for you to not miss. Seriously, this is the size 72 font of garden writing.
Anywhom, I checked it out. At the top you can explore the ruins of the Kasbah, built in 1756 and housed several hundred people before collapsing on top of them in the earthquake. V sad. I saw some camels walking about and of course with it being Wednesday, had to have a proper hump day experience. Not only am I a secret camel whisperer, I can also parallel park those bitches like a smart car in London. Sitting atop the camel overlooking the kingdom, I was feelin some kind of bad bitch way. Next on the list for the day was Agadirs big market- Souk al Agadir ****. Comprised of 3,000 shops under one roof, it’s quite the sight. Every knock off piece of anything you can imagine is in stock here. Folex, Louis Verton, Balenceyaga, Fendee, Brightlong, you name it, they have a poorly executed version. You could spend hours walking about what is essentially the same 10 shops over and over again - EaCh OnE jUsT aS uNiQuE aS sNoWfLaKe. Psh. Girl bye. You couldnt be bothered with the whole “this just as good” sales technique. It was an entire days worth of walking about, which I ended by seeing Agadirs stunning mosque.
|Probably the most uncomfortable photo the store owner could have made us take after likening them to "my wives". Notice how we all look like we had never met or even spoke before this actual second? WHAT DO WE DO WITH OUR HANDS! HA. those jokesters.
*flashback weeks ago* My friends and family must have sent me 10 different news stories covering the slaying of two young travelers who were hiking the Atlas Mountains just kilometers from the city I was in only a few weeks prior to my arrival.. I was determined to get a hike in those mountains with all of the passion of a lesbian working to obtain her first Subaru.....Off to Paradise Valley in the Atlas Mountains I go!! Paradise valley is known for being a quite, serene, and absolutely beautiful escape for celebrities across the world. Didn’t disappoint!! Cute waterfalls, random encampments, and a relatively busy hiking path meant you’d have plenty of people to enjoy the hike with - mostly euro hipsters. These pics will do more justice than my words can:
After the hike I stumbled into a town and shop where I learned how to make Aragon oil. Bought tons for my now very fabulous hair, and then headed to the hotel for some rest. I spent the rest of the week long trip exploring the city. Hilariously sitting down at a restaurants with the expectation of lunch, only to find out it was a fancy ice cream shop or only served waffles - seriously -knowing any bit of French would help avoid awkward situations like this. Ordering a martini and receiving Hendricks in a cup was part of my learning experience; by the end of this trip I could successfully order a glass of white wine or say excuse me- thanks to help from Jordan in the states.
My biggest surprise on this whole excursion - the sheer amount of cats that run around the city. First and foremost, I FUCKING LOVE CATS - 50% of my vacation photos from the week are of all the cats running around the hotel and the city. They’d sit with you at meals, snatch up your lap when you’re sunbathing, and could even be found walking about paradise valley following groups of tourists around. The inner cat woman in me was screaming the entire time, and I named them all. The French tourists were probably more entertained by my cat infatuation than the cats themselves. “Look at this simple American twat with his cat pictaires”..
|Fuck off, please. Love, Rosaline and Jeremy
|obligatory boat at sunset
I'm off to Mexico and the Mediterranean for my next adventure- I cannot wait to see how it compares! Africa left me with an incredible feeling, its a shame there was no gay community to explore.