Tangier – Ouds, Tea and Minarets

The dawn calling to prayer (Imsak)– around 6:15 a.m. at present — is nowadays broadcast by amplified speakers from the tallest Minarets. You can hear echoing calls from all over the city … quite a haunting sound first thing in the morning and at nightfall (Isha) … there are three others throughout the day, but city noise tends to blur them).  Apparently there’s an app you can install on your phone to keep track of the times as these will change depending on the time of year.

Breakfast at Le Boulevard … a boulangerie et patisserie.  Superb coffee … and mushroom, spinach & cheese omelet with fresh (still warm)  round grainy breads … you see them everywhere being delivered.  Their counters groaning with breads, pastries, croissants, cakes, and macaroons.  One man went out with SIX French breads under his arm.  Afterwards, a stroll along the waterfront then up into the Petite Souk … where the locals shop.  Almost a shanty town of stalls, jammed together … fruits and vegetables … live chickens in cages, awaiting their fate … handicrafts … nick-knacks … shoes and handbags.  Counters of nose-tickling spices … vats of multi-coloured pickled olives … shelves of medicinal herbs and cures.  Further along the fish market — floors  constantly sluiced with water, merchants in rubber boots … fish of every shape, size and species.  The meat market was a little less appetizing … some of the stalls had various offal draped  unappealingly from hooks, and rows of blackened sheep’s heads which stared at you with eye-less sockets … there was a pungent odour of putrefaction filtering through.  Yesterday, in the more tourist area, it was impossible to walk more than a couple of feet without being coaxed into shops or offered tours … but here we just got curious looks as people went about their business.  However a Bonjour always brought a courteous Ca va in reply.

On our previous visit to the Kasbah with Mohammed, it hadn’t been possible to take all the photos I’d wanted as we were listening to his talk.  Today, with deep blue skies and a slower pace, the photo opportunities were endless … as you can see!  One small shop, tucked far away from all the rest, had a delightfully eclectic selection of goods for sale … jewelry, postcards, leather pouches, books, antique cameras, pottery, wooden figurines.  While I browsed the earrings, Glen had the pleasure of chatting with the owner … no high pressure sales.  It seems this lane and archway was favoured by the artist Matisse . . . and there were  postcards of the painting to prove it.

Further on, the melodic sounds of an Oud drifted out a window.  Here was an accomplished player … and the music had a decided Andalucian/Moroccan fusion.  A tiny shop offering mint tea and music — we were waved to come and sit a while.  The walls were completely covered with colourful blankets, pictures and assorted Ouds.  We sat and chatted, got to look at and ‘play’ an Oud and drums.  There are 10 strings — 4 pairs and 2 individual with higher tones – producing a beautiful harmony. We sat outside on brightly padded tiny stools and listened as we drank our mint tea.

Taking a wrong turn (despite Miss Google), a polite young fellow of about 8 or 9 was quite insistent that this lane was ferme, and shot off in front of us to lead the way.  It was only one street away ..  he introduced himself as Hamza and he never once asked for any cash . .. just sat on a nearby wall and smiled.  He raced off with a big grin clutching a few coins of loose change as payment.

We had tea on the terrace at the Hotel Continental!  Built right into the clifftop with a commanding view over Tangier’s harbour front and a guest list of the world’s Who’s Who as long as your arm.  But it’s the inside that leaves you gob-smacked.  Every wall, ceiling and floor is intricately tiled — some painted, other’s look like fine paper quill work.  There are Moorish doors and windows . .  . stained glass windows splashing colour across the floors … individual alcoves with lounging beds, fountains and heavyily tasseled curtains for privacy (quite decadent) … gigantic silver tea urns . . . leather camel saddles.  Truly a remarkable sight.  It was mid afternoon and we had the entire place to ourselves, it was only as we were about to leave that a few other people arrived.

Walking along the waterfront we’d hoped to go into the fishing port … but it was securely behind fencing and barbed wire.  Shame, because the boats were so colourful.  We waded our way through a sea of restaurant scouts, all desperately trying to drum up business.  They must’ve been hurting as a result of Covid … but goodness, they were tenacious! We sat on the sea wall instead and watched men long line fishing from the rocks below. How did they get down there?

It’s quite a way.  A young man provided the answer … he piled up rocks against the sea wall, and with the help of his two girlfriends above, clambered up.  He got lots of cheers.

Not particularly hungry, and tired from a long day’s walking, we picked up some cakes and croissants from a nearby bakery (no idea what’s in them – everything was in Arabic) … fresh clementines from the fruit shop next door — still with their leaves, and returned to the apartment to indulge.