I was reminded of a day trip to Tangier in December 2008 when a friend pointed out an etched, graceful, Moroccan teapot on my bookshelf. It was a completely impractical purchase — I doubt I’ll ever make tea in it — but besides being beautiful, it reminds me of a great day of traveling.
Soaking up the sun in Andalucia was a great way to start off the winter. One day, we hopped in the rental car with a basic map towards Tarifa, the southern-most point of Europe, a tiny tip pointing due south off the coast of Spain. From this surfing town, we bought exorbitantly expensive ferry tickets to cross to Morocco.
My first baby steps into the African continent overwhelmed the senses. Swarms of tour guides waited at the harbor in Tangier, shoving official looking tourist-board passes in our faces, asking if we need a guide? Did we know where we wanted to go? You just couldn’t start WALKING around Tangier?!
We hadn’t discussed a game plan yet — so we kept walking past the chaos. During our short walk away from the boat we decided it might not be a bad idea to hire a guide. For 20 euro, someone could show us the main sites in the short afternoon, and maybe keep even the street hagglers at a comfortable distance. This could be a worthwhile investment. A friendly looking, educated-type named Ahmed approached us after the first wave of bombardment: would we be interested in a short tour of the city? His gapped-tooth smile was all the convincing I needed.
Minutes later we were in the center of the Kasbah, surrounded by fragrant spices and running children. The next question out of Ahmed’s mouth was one that I wasn’t expecting: Would you like to see a carpet show?
We were swept into a store, up three flights of stairs, and asked politely to sit down at the end of a ballroom. Our host greeted us warmly and the show began. Men carrying carpets over their shoulders emerged from behind curtains and with one flick of the wrist, unrolled incredibly intricate, richly colored, hand-woven carpets.
I don’t even have an apartment, nevermind a house, that these type of carpets belong in — but I was so fascinated by the show that I let it go on. By the end there were dozens of carpets rolled out, with perfect little pathways for us to walk up and down the gymnasium-sized space for a perusal. Our host finished with a big: Ta Da! Now — which you like?!
I wasn’t in the market for a carpet — but I did like the small gold etched teapots, I told him.
Ahh, you have very good taste. This piece is an absolute gem. I wouldn’t part with it for less than 150 euro.
I’ll give you 10.
Lady drives hard bargain! But my wife would be very angry if I let this go for any less than 90.
20, and that’s my final offer.
The hard bargaining continued for at least 5 minutes, and just as I put the teapot down, said thank you, and headed for the door, our host agreed on my price. He even threw in a free hat.
In the end, we did walk out with a couple carpets as well. Just doormats really. It was December after all, and they made great Christmas gifts.
Jessica Colley is a poet and freelance travel writer currently living in Dublin, Ireland. She blogs about culture, cuisine, and cappuccino at The Great American Travel Dream.