Morocco in 1974

August 1974

With a pocket full of hard earned pounds, we took our combi van (PoGO) on a boat to Lisbon. A memorable journey as President Nixon was resigning. Where were you when that happened?

We meandered down the coast to the Algarve, discovering sardines, charged by the skeletons and cerveja (beer), charged by the empty bottles.

Bravado took us further, into Spain and to Algeciras. After watching a bull fight, we got chatting to some other Australian campers. Stories and artefacts swapped. Why not Morocco?

So onto a ferry and across the Mediterranean to discover another country.

At our first campsite, Bruce lifted the roof of our camper van, and suddenly we were surrounded by curious onlookers. We were just a curious about the camp sites complete with stunning rugs and cushions.

We drove along the Mediterranean coast until we reached the Atlas mountains. Turned right. Climbed them, dodging potholes, then crossed to Fez. Back to Tangiers before heading home.

It certainly was a culture shock – children selling hash hish, armed guards around our campsite in Fez and miles of desert where watermelon vines snaked around the sandy ground.

I found a postcard I had written home from Fez:

22 August 1974
Fez is very, very interesting – we can imagine ourselves walking through the bible, women with faces covered, men in long caftans and fez or turbans, kids begging and wanting to act as our guide. They’ll try speaking to you in French, German and English.
Incredible market selling fruit and meat covered in flies.
Donkeys are used as carriers and you can see a train of 3 or 4 of them walking through the streets of the medina (old town).
Women are very second rate.
All the animals are very thin.
We’ll leave Morocco next Friday, back home via Lisbon.
Not looking forward to cold England. Weather is very hot here.

I was not quite as careful annotating Bruce’s photos, but here they are: Morocco in 1974.