Family Navigations, Summer 2023: Morocco and Portugal

For years, I’ve wanted to visit the wonderfully eclectic land of Morocco, and for our summer 2023 family vacation, we planned a trip to Marrakesh with a bonus stopover in Lisbon.

Traveling as a family has become more complicated these days because we have adult children living and working in different states, so the navigational logistics of this trans-Atlantic foray was a doozy—Judy and I, six children, three of their friends, four different points of origin, two different days of departure, and 28 flights delayed or canceled out of a total of 61 flights. And I haven’t even mentioned in-country travels by camel and bicycle, the lasting memory of which included a member of our group wearing a white pants suit with flared bell bottoms reminiscent of either an evening gown or flowing lingerie. But we’ll get to that.

The first 55% of our crew arrived in Marrakesh, Morocco on a Thursday, and we set out to tour the marketplace near the main square in the medina or old city (all of Marrakesh qualifies as old by U.S. metrics, of course, since the city was founded 1,200 years ago). The marketplace was unusually quiet because it was the Holy Day Eid al-Adha. The timing was exquisite, though, for moving about in a city of a million people, because after the Holy Day was the Muslim sabbath, the Jewish sabbath and then Sunday, a popular day off. Marrakesh was very hot, as you might expect, perhaps around 110° F. But the dry air made it feel like it was only 107°!

On Day 2, we ventured further into the markets—souks, in local parlance. The temperature dropped to 109°, so Victoria and Andrew bought sweaters, of course. The shopping frenzy centered on a store that sold every ointment, cream and tonic imaginable, run by a proprietor who was the shrewdest marketer and salesman I’ve ever seen. Witty and convincing, he sampled one rare elixir after another, and my discriminating travel companions suddenly felt certain they needed everything in the shop. A small sample of the many benefits promised included:

• Long life
• Weight loss
• Softer skin
• Fewer headaches
• Better smelling teenagers
• Hair loss reduction
• Improved foreign language skills
• Reduced impulse buying (this one was not sampled)

That evening we had a uniquely late dinner of expansive proportions, and we assumed we would make our way back to the hotel through a quiet square at midnight.

O-M-G!

The squares and streets were JAMMED with people and kids eating, drinking, dancing and playing. It was enough to make Times Square look like Grand Rapids. Traffic was also very heavy, and we were hung up in it for a bit. Because it had been now a full two hours since we’d gorged ourselves, we decided to stop at an all-night McDonald’s. A vanload of famished Sarsams delighted the McD franchise owner.

On Sunday, we toured a palace, went to church, stopped by a swimming club and then rode ATVs into the desert for a camel ride and dinner. It was an action-packed day, just the way I like ‘em! The camel ride was an over-the-top experience, nearly insurmountable. I am certain God designed the camel to be impossible to ride and that no domesticated creature on Earth is less domestic. Here’s a side-by-side analysis, camel vs. horse.

The next day was our traditional family bike ride in a foreign country, which I always look forward to each year. A fringe portion of our tour group (six of the 11) pointed out that they DO NOT look forward to the annual series of biking mishaps on foreign soil. But a few modest parental threats guaranteed all 11 veteran adventure bikers were on the bus at the appointed hour.

The wardrobe choices of our team did not scream “veteran bikers” to anyone. Our guide even asked if he could get a picture of “traditional American biking attire” to share with his friends. The most curious choice was Karissa who wore a white evening gown-ish pants suit with flared bell bottoms. I think our guide actually wanted the picture for his brochure under the heading of “what not to wear on a bike ride.” Our bike trip was mostly downhill, but I was certain we would have some folks poop out. So, I arranged for a bike van to follow behind, just in case.

We got started and had the first wreck 73 feet into the trip (0.06%). It was on a steep-ish grade, and Andrew (ironically the only person in the group who rides a bike to work) panicked and squeezed the left brake (hereafter known as the WRONG brake). He flew over the handlebars into a pile of rocks. Nikita instantly asked if he could go on the helicopter air-evac trip. The guide did a great job of removing rocks from Andrew’s face and cleaning up the many gashes on Andrew’s legs. No surprise, the bloodied and swollen, but gallant, Andrew said he thought he could ride on. So, we got going on the remaining 99.94% of the ride, with me riding last to continue monitoring group safety.

I called this adventure on wheels our very own version of “Squid Games,” in which I would tell whoever is ahead of me when they would graduate to the comfort of the van. Karissa was Squid #1, suggesting that her seat was uncomfortable and that she was worried about her eveningwear getting sucked into the chain. Victoria was #2 for a quick attitude reset. Squid #3 was Judy. She was going so slow down the mountain that I could not always tell if she was actually moving. One Berber family walked up to us from behind and asked if they could get a picture with the new statue of an American riding a bike. I held the old woman’s cane while they got a couple of selfies. Squid summary as follows:

We departed Marrakesh with sadness but looked forward to a couple of fun days in Lisbon. After landing in Lisbon, we checked into our hotel and then sprung into action with a culinary walking tour. Our guide walked us around many sites in the Bairro Alto section of Lisbon. As you might guess by now, our travel contingent is very patient and willingly bears great hardship, but they knew this was a culinary tour. After 11 minutes had elapsed with no food, the panic began to set in: Comments ranging from” “Umm.. are we going to eat?” to “I’m feeling a little sick…I don’t believe we will ever eat,” started engulfing from our group.

At 6:12, we finally stepped into a restaurant—the first of three. Panic abated.

The next day we toured many sites around Lisbon, including monuments to navigators, fortresses to protect navigators who were navigating and churches where famous navigators were buried. I must confess I chuckled when our bus driver misread his Nav and missed a turn.

After that, we navigated our way to the town of Sintra and toured the royal palace there. It was dripping with the over-the-top opulence typically brought about by a second or third generation monarch whose greatest achievement was being born. We learned about the kings and queens who wished they were navigators and many other fascinating facts. Our guide use a microphone as we listened in on our earpieces on “Channel 3.” There were periodic long breaks, and at one of them the guide accidentally left her mike on while chatting with Judy, as we all heard our family matriarch saying:

“… so then I told Jorge if he eats all the little custard pies he should at least offer to buy Nikita something … but maybe not because Nikita has been a brat and was on his phone when I told him not to be and I told him no more Sprite for the next 40 minutes … Karissa is moving out of her apartment when she gets back to Phoenix and we bought her a rug with the money we saved at the ointment shop … but I still can’t believe she wore that lingerie or whatever on a bike ride … have you ever ridden a camel? One of them tried to eat one of our kids, and …”

Finally, another guest in the crowd who was accidentally tuned in to “Channel 3” recommended that our guide turn off the mic.

The next morning, we headed to the airport to return to the USA. As a welcome home gift from the land that I love, our flight home was delayed. We rebooked all of our flights. And then all of those except one were canceled. I ended up driving home from Chicago, arriving at 4 a.m. Be they ever so humble, there are no airlines like our airlines at home!

While I was waiting in line in one of the airports, I was commiserating with some other passengers, and one of my fellow travelers mentioned, “Did you hear about the family who had one of their kids eaten by a camel?” I almost asked if the kid was wearing lingerie but decided to just act surprised.

I took this photo of my family, and someone politely asked if I would like them to take a photo with all of us.

Well, I’m behind that lovely pillar … I think ….

The most stubborn creature in the world … and a mule.