EXCERPT FROM SARA’S JOURNALJune
9, 1999
Transmediterranea, the Straits of Gibraltar
Between Spain and Africa
The ferry’s an old Stena Sealink, retired from the English Channel and shuffled
down to here where the rum is permanent seat-perfume. My first impression of what may lie
ahead, beyond the Straits of Gibraltar on the northernmost tip of Africa – a deep,
booming voice—something like what Aladdin’s dad might sound like. "Do you
know how to fill out this form?"
The man is round and nutty brown, authoritarian and startling, yet soft and pillowy. He
checks my passport and customs form. "White Rock is a very nice place," he says.
I’m comforted. "Do you know it?" "Yes, very well. There are two places
I like very much from your part of the world – Yellowstone and White Rock."
The ferry’s almost empty, dotted only with a mild rash of duty free shoppers and
some anxious backpackers. The backpackers wave and nod at each other – they all took
the bus down to Algeciras together. Stephanie and Sebastien, sister and brother, are from
Montreal. Their English is sketchy and we warm up our French again in preparation for
Morocco’s second language. They spread pate and cucumber on their bread and peruse
our guidebook for cheap accommodations and food sources. Sebastian promises me some photos
of his paintings.
A willowy fellow with an enormous pack approaches. "When we get off the ferry --
do you mind if I tag along? I’m alone and a bit scared." Damien, a young
Australian on a year-plus tour of Europe, has reason to be. The guidebooks are unrelenting
with warnings of threatening hustlers and thieves and misleading taxi drivers. Women are
advised to forgo Morocco altogether unless traveling with their husband. Items like shorts
and t-shirts are almost unacceptable. These and the potential hazards of non-potable
ice-cubes and tampered bottled water, spoiled food sold by street vendors and tourist trap
restaurants may account for Morocco’s low tourist return rate – around 10%.
Armed with the outspoken prejudices of the guidebooks and the anxious company of a handful
of other foreigners, the gangplank drops and we step down into an introduction to the
Islamic world.
