A Wild Kaleidoscope of Confusion and Many Verbal WTF's

What started as a neat itinerary turned into discombobulation. Morocco #19

Oh, Ageless Wanderer,

Agadir was our jumping-off place to discover Morocco's best-kept secret—its granaries. Granaries aren't your run-of-the-mill tourist spots with gift shops and cafés. These hidden gems are tucked away in the Southern Moroccan landscape, where some locals still store personal valuables, sorta like a "bank.

Putting this leg of our trip together from the other side of the world felt like a mix of playing detective and planning a Mars landing. Granaries are not on your usual tourist map. They're more like the VIP lounges of Moroccan history and culture—exclusive, elusive, and absolutely enchanting.

Our method of seeing these granaries was just as unusual. We were looking for a tour guide willing to ride with us in our rented chariot instead of us joining a group tour.

So, there we were, two elder, eager adventurers, armed with nothing but a burning curiosity and enough tenacity to ride a rough road, when we finally struck gold.

We connected with a local guide via email who lived in Agadir, someone who was as knowledgeable as a living library and as mysterious as the winding roads we were about to traverse. His name? Let's call him Hamid because who doesn't like a bit of mystery?

As time was short, he suggested we meet him on our second day in Agadir. So we did.

Hamid picked the flashiest hotel in Agadir. I mean, this place was no joke. It was $350 a night, no joke! The grounds? Picture-perfect manicured lawns, with pools so fancy that they could be on postcards. As for the people? Let’s just say there were plenty of sun-kissed trophy spouses showing off their... investments.

We were led through the hotel to the dining area, feeling a tad out of our league but ready to embrace the glam. And then came the buffet tables, housed in a room the size of a football field. The price per plate? That's a secret I'll keep, but heavens, was it scrumptious. Call it an indulgence (some delights are worth the splurge).

Meeting Hamid was like opening a door to another world. We were anticipating an older gentleman, perhaps a librarian, and though Hamid was barely out of diapers, he had a wide grin and sparkling eyes, and he promised us a tour along less-traveled paths.

We reviewed our route and discussed our desire to see multiple granaries and various villages. He confirmed that granaries existed in the geographical areas of our interest, as well as our tour price. Lucille also mentioned our desire to see the "eternal spring," but Hamid told us that it was very dry and there would be no water. So, no bueno.

And - newsflash, our toy car would be no magic carpet for our travels, so dropping our roller skate at long-term parking at the airport and renting a comfy upgrade, preferably four-wheel drive, was planned.

We spent about an hour at breakfast with Hamid before he said his goodbyes; he was off to lead a tour. He promised to check in with us around 5:00 p.m. to ensure everything was well and to accompany us to the airport if necessary for the car pick-up/storage plan. Last but not least, he would meet us at our apartment in the wee morning hours to hit the road.

Lucille and I planned to explore Agaidir and make a run to the airport to take care of the car business after Hamid’s call at 5:00 pm.

The 5:00 pm call didn’t happen, and then it was past 6:00. It was about 6:45 pm when Lucille received a text from Hamid. “I lost my ID badge, and I’m sorry but I can’t be your guide, but I found someone else who will give you a tour”.

Lucille and I looked at each other, mentally wrapping our heads around this situation.

Was Hamid bowing out completely, or would someone else be joining him? Who was this "someone"? If we had two guides instead of one, would the charge be double?

Lucille and Hamid are zipping messages back and forth like there’s no tomorrow. But let's be honest, amidst all that rapid-fire texting, some of our most important details—those nuggets we really need to know—were being lost in translation.

Meanwhile, Lucille, bless her, lets Hamid know twilight had arrived, and that I’m not the night-crusader type when it comes to driving in new cities. Plus, we still had to rent a car at the airport for our ungodly early departure the next day. The clock was ticking!

And just as we're trying to get our heads straight and our ducks in a row, Hamid asks for my credit card information.

Stay tuned…..

XXOO Stella