Postcard from Morocco #4

No Photos Allowed! Crossing the border from Morocco back to Spain.

The bus pulled up to the line, and a Moroccan Border Patrol agent came on the bus, collecting everyone’s passport. He disappeared as we waited. Half an hour later, the stack of passports was handed to our guide who returned them to each of us. At least they were in the same order as collected.

Then we were all told to get off the bus. Agents crawled all over it – opening every hatch, checking any cavity for possible contents. The drug-and-bomb-detecting dog came out of his kennel for a sniff around.

Yes, this is a major portal for human trafficking and drug smuggling into Europe.

All clear, back on the bus. Then a few names were called. I was one of them. They wanted to individually check our bags, so I pointed out mine from the baggage hold, and was told to open it. An officer ruffled through it a bit, then walked away. Confused, I didn’t know what to do. Finally, someone motioned that I was OK to go, so I zipped it up, and someone assisted with putting it back in the bus. Whew. Kinda nerved up. Never had that happen before.

One more check of the passports inside the bus, then we were waived through.

A short distance later, we arrived at the Cueta border crossing back into Spain. Same drill with the passports – hand them over to Border Patrol while we waited on the bus. They were returned to our guide, again, graciously, in the same order as collected. One more passport check inside the bus, a quick check of the baggage hold, and then we were waived through. A cheer went up on the bus. Safely back on Spanish territory.

The wait for the ferry seemed long, but eventually, we boarded and I headed for the café. No Ramadan restrictions here, so I enjoyed wine with a young woman from the Czech Republic and a young man from Columbia. Born in 2003 and 2005, I asked them what was the biggest event they remember in their young lives. The Covid pandemic was their answer. I’ve been wrapping my head around that for two days now.

The bus finally dropped me off at 1:30 in the morning. As I walked to my apartment, again the street cleaners were out, along with a few late-night partiers.

Face-first into bed. Exhausted but happy.

I leave you with a very fun music video created by Dylan, one of the young people on the trip. It was such a great journey. I am truly blessed.

All for now.