Camels, quads, tubes and dirhams.

Ridiculous. The only word that can be used to describe four days in Morocco. We arrived in Morocco around 9pm and headed straight for our hotel. We were SO excited to be in Morocco. The minute we stepped off the airplane we could feel the warm weather, and how nice it felt. After 20 minutes in a taxi, and after our taxista assured us "only 5 minute," we were in the center of the "Free American Passport/Ransome Walking." "Okay, get out here, go straight," our taxista assured us. They must have smelled the fear in us because there was now a crowd of Moroccan MEN surrounding the taxi. Scared s**tless, to say the least, we booked it to our hotel.

Safe and sound, we were in our SUITE, finally. Yeah, suite. One giant king bed and two smaller beds. The only downfall was the bathroom and the lack of shower door and lack of bathroom door in general. It was then, that we all realized we were going to get verrrry close on this trip.

The next morning started out early, as we decided that we should stay in our suite at night and enjoy the sunshine to the fullest. During breakfast we started our planning of what we were going to do. Mary found a map...with less than reassuring words of wisdom:

"You are here. You are lost. Everything is going to be alright. Don´t panic. It´s only Marrakech."

During breakfast, the owner at the hotel asked us what we were doing that day and after talking, he volunteered that one of his employees, who he referred to as Jean Claude Van Damme, would take us on a tour up the mountain. We were a little skeptical, so to make sure, we asked, "he won´t leave us at the top of the mountain or anything, right?" He replied, "YES, yes, of course he will!" We assumed it was the language barrier.

We ventured out into Marrakech in search of some markets, as we told Jean Claude we would be back at noon for our adventure up the mountain. We quickly realized, again, that we were quite a sight for the natives. We came to the conclusion that in our t-shirts and capri pants were the most skin some of these men had seen in a while. After following narrow streets, we quickly discovered the markets...

After purchasing some souvenirs, a.k.a. gifts for ourselves, we decided to wanted back to the hotel. Minutes later we were in the car with Ismael, a.k.a. Jean Claude, and were headed to the mountains. Foruntaly, I got the side with the trick window, it never stayed up the entire bumpy and very windy two hour drive up the mountain.

Our first stop was: camel riding. I have an issue with riding animals. I´ve done it maybe...ONCE in my entire life. And as my faithfull blog readers, a.k.a. mom and dad, can recall, I had a little bit of a rough time trying to ride a mule in Ecuador. I fell off and the mule was crazy, literally; everyone voted. So, as I have an extremem fear of heights, trying to get on a camel, a much taller animal than the mule, was not to my liking.

After a couple attempts, and some funny pictures, I finally mounted the camel. Our faithful guide, guided my camel, again crazy, down the path. We stopped for some kodak moments, where all my camel wanted to do was eat. Overall, mission accomplished and another item checked off my list of ´100 Things To Do Before I Die.´

Our next stop was ... "Ish, where are we?" "Okay, we go." Needless to say, this is where the language barrier happened. Our faithful tour guide, who we nicknamed Ish, had brought us to a co-op.

We were then taken on a small tour of the co-op learning that everything is made from the natural nuts. From collecting the nuts, cracking the nuts and making magical touristy souvenirs for their "rich" clients, i.e. naïve college students. 

So, we purchased our natural mud face masks, chap stick, mint tea and some peanut butter. We had big plans for our night in our hotel. 

Our next stop was lunch, and we were starving to say the least. Our faithful tour guide took us to a restaurant, conveniently owned by a friend, where we dined on couscous, veggies, chicken and coca-cola while being serenaded by some "new friends."

Our next stop was the waterfall, normally you stand at the bottom of waterfalls, right? Womp, wrong! 

After 45 seconds of enjoying our hard work, we headed back down the mountain, passing elderly women who should never had been allowed to ascend the mountain in the first place. We then headed back to Marrakech, but not before stopping at a supermarket to pick up some dinner. Bread, fruit, crackers, juice and champagne; the five major food groups. 

When we got back to our hotel with our bags, the owner of the hotel asked if we were going up to the roof, to the jacuzzi. Why, indeed, we were. Success! Hotel was great to say the least and the roof was even greater. 

Our first order of business was to break into the peanut butter we had bought at the co-op. It was DELICIOUS. Then, came the champagne followed by a little dip in the COLD jacuzzi. Yeah, I guess the solar panels weren't working that day. Anyway, we then broke out the face masks which turned into a disaster, to say the least. 

Twenty minutes later we quickly realized that the part of the face mask that made your skin feel soft was removing the mask. Try rubbing the skin off of your face. A similar sensation as removing this "mask."After the strenuous mask removals we called it a night because we had a big day ahead of us. 

We were up and awake ready to start day of quad biking and tubing. After breakfast we headed to the Moroccan Tubing office where the quad biking people would pick us up. While waiting for the bus we were talking with out tubing guide and told him about our little...mishap with the face masks. He then...bestowed a little of knowledge upon us. "You know where they get the nuts from, right? Goat poop." We had just spend the night before spreading goat poop all over our faces. Not to mention that during the application and removal process we may have gotten some in our mouths. Excellent. 

We then hopped into the bus and headed to quad biking. We were fitted with face masks and helmets and then put on a quad. 

We then headed out onto the trail, through berber communities, through the countryside. It was amazing. And, it also felt great to be in control of a motor vehicle. I think the maximum that we all hit was 40 km. Dirt was flying everywhere, it was great!

Half way, we stopped at the top of a mountain for a little break. And to capture some pictures of how dirty we were. Yet, there was SO much more dirt to come! Our next stop was at a little berber house to wipe down the dirt, or get off as much as you can, and dine on some mint tea and some Moroccan pancakes, as we called them. 

(the shirt WAS white at the beginning of the day)

We then hopped back on our quads and headed back towards the base. Overall, AMAZING, and we were so excited for the rest of our day. We headed back to the tubing place, after getting a quick bite to eat, and then headed out to the river. 

We drove for what seemed like forever to a house, aka headquarters for Moroccan Tubing. Along the way, the guides told us they were from Scotland (well, that we kind of guessed as blond hair and blue eyes are the norm in Morocco) and had driven the van all the way down there....roughly 2,500 miles. Devoted? I think so. 

The house was right on the "river." And I use the word "river" loosely. We all looked at it, and couldn't figure out how there was enough water height for the tube to float. A few hours later we were SO wrong. Just wait. 

We were fitted into our wetsuits and waterproof shoes. And by wetsuits, I mean used wetsuits...with holes in precarious locations. Let's just say, it's good we chose to bring our bathing suit tops and bottoms along. As to the water proof shoes: converse. I would have rather worn my own. 

To see all the photos, check out the Flickr album: http://www.flickr.com/photos/chasecarrie/sets/72157623717411615/
To see all of the tubing photos, check out the Splash Morocco website's gallery: http://photos.rafting.co.uk/gallery/11824761_HWTEe/1/835805187_urWFz#835828245_jpbjb (these are not photos taken by me.)