Bin el Ouidane and Ouzoud Falls

After disembarking the train in Marrakech at about 15:00, starving and roasted, we hurried back to Mike's apartment, dropped off our belongings, mounted the motorcycle and sped off toward the French Embassy.  As Mike has citizenships in both Morocco and France, he felt obliged to vote in the presidential election this year. Nicolas Sarkozy and Francois Hollande are the unlucky fellows running for presidency at this pivotal point in French history, and socialist Francois Hollande has pulled out in front of conservative Sarkozy after the first round of voting. The second round of voting on May 6th will determine which candidate secures the presidency. 

French people talk about politics a lot. A lot, a lot. I don't understand much, because they get very excited, talk very quickly, and forget to translate. Whenever I hear the name, "Sarkozy", I assume that I won't understand much of what's happening for the next half hour or so.

After Mike finished his fine act of democracy, we drove over to the souk to grab a bite to eat. As the souk was all out of mechoui (hate it when that happens), we ordered a tangia for two. Mike had warned me about the incredibly greasy quality of this culturally famous dish, but I was still somewhat surprised when I saw the 1/2 inch of oil pooled in the bottom of the clay pot. 

Mike did not enjoy tangia at all. I found the flavor flawless, but the oil... the cup of oil dredging everything was a bit hard to stomach. 

Tangia

One of Mike's cousins owns a vacation house in Bin el Ouidane; a breathtaking bit of land in the heart of Morocco where wealthy French and Moroccans have built weekend-getaway houses. The lake is manmade, but that definitely doesn't detract from the beauty of the area. The pastel colors, the wind rustling through the golden grass, the serenity, tranquility, and the general happy mood of people on vacation made this place feel like a little paradise. When I bought my plane ticket for Morocco, I didn't really have a lot of expectations (I'm a little lax on the research aspect of traveling), but I never could have imagined getting to spend a night in a place as stunning as this. 

Bin el Ouidane was another world. 

This felt a little bit like a scene from "The Gladiator". 

Mike's cousin's son, Jonas. Cute enough to get away with absolutely everything. 

Moroccan pancake

After a splendid omelet breakfast, we donned our swimsuits and clamored aboard the house speedboat for a morning of wakeboarding and surfing. I'd attempted to wakeboard in Yosemite when I was fifteen or sixteen, but it was only one quick face-plant and I haven't done anything since. Hence, I was a tad apprehensive about wakeboarding with this group of people, as they're all quite experienced and I felt more than a little intimidated. Although traveling makes one look like a fool more than anything else I've experienced thus far in my nearly 23 years, I'm still not incredibly fond of looking like a complete dunce. However, Mike's cousin and friend were very clear at explaining the mechanics of the wakeboard, so I gave it a try. My goodness, it was a blast. I got up out of the water on my second try, and even managed to make a somewhat difficult switch before I lost my balance and was sucked into the lake.

A new kind of surfing. The boat creates a wake that allows you to surf the way you would in the ocean -- no rope required. 

Me, Mike's friend, and Mike

Mike and I took a slight detour on the way back to Marrakech to see Ouzoud Falls, the tallest waterfall in Morocco. The hour and a half stop meant that we'd have to drive back to the city on a suicidally dangerous road in the dark, but we both agreed that the waterfalls were worth potential injury/death on the return trip.

Ouzoud is the Berber word for "olive". The falls are surrounded with ancient olive trees, belonging to local families who make their own oil. 

Each tree has a mark like this adorning the trunk. The color signifies the owner of the tree. 

How a tagine cooks

Moroccan monkeys! People feed them lots of fruit and bread, so they're not exactly wild. One approached a man with bread and tugged on his pant leg, begging for crumbs. 

Our guide. When you visit a tourist attraction in Morocco, there's always an abundance of guides nearby, all trying to convince you that you need their services. This man offered to show us the waterfalls for 100 dirhams. When he found out that Mike was Moroccan, he said, "Whatever you want to pay me is fine." I love how Moroccans really stick together. I also love that I get to experience Morocco with a Moroccan. I'm getting a unique, insightful of experience of Morocco that I could't have gotten any other way.