Our private tour guide collected us from the port with an enthusiasm. As we left the port, I spotted something interesting: Morocco’s traffic stop signs read in Arabic script, rather than using the English “STOP” typical in so many other places, which I thought was pretty cool.

Where Two Oceans Meet

Cap Spartel, located approximately 14 kilometres west of Tangier, juts out 326 metres above sea level, a promontory that marks not only the meeting point of the Mediterranean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, but also the northwestern edge of the African continent. The lighthouse standing sentinel on this rocky point was constructed by Sultan Muhammad IV in 1864, making it one of Morocco’s oldest lighthouses.

Near the lighthouse, a simple sign warned us not to feed the wild boars. The warning carried more historical weight than might first appear. The Barbary wild boar subspecies (Sus scrofa algira) inhabits the forested regions of North Africa, from Morocco through Algeria and Tunisia. An ironic thing is that Islam is the largest religion in Morocco, and they don’t eat pork, so whenever a boar is caught, they may be exported for sale elsewhere.

First Time Riding A Camel

Next, our guide arranged a camel ride on the beach as part of the day’s itinerary. While none of us explicitly asked for it, the camel ride was included in the tour package. The experience proved physically uncomfortable in ways I hadn’t anticipated. The animals had no traditional saddles, leaving my legs to dangle awkwardly while the camel’s gait sent jolts through my body with each step. At one point, the camel began walking the wrong way, and the handler slapped it on the head to correct its behaviour. This moment made me think about how these camels might not be treated well, and how we should avoid supporting such tourist activities next time.

The ride lasted approximately twenty minutes, though it felt considerably longer. The animal moved in jerky, unpredictable motions that kept me gripping tightly to avoid slipping sideways. When the time came to dismount, the camel lowered its head first, extending its front legs flat against the sand before tucking in its rear legs – a movement that made me feel as though we might flip forward over the animal’s neck. The whole experience left me tired despite sitting and with mixed feelings about the ethics of animal treatment in these settings.​

A Cave Made of Legends

The Hercules Caves hold a peculiar place between geology, mythology, and human labour. According to Greek legend, Hercules himself rested within these caves during the eleventh of his twelve labours, and some stories claim that he split the rock to create the Strait of Gibraltar. The cave’s opening to the sea has been carved into the unmistakable silhouette of the African continent, a feature believed to have been shaped by the Phoenicians in ancient times.

Yet the full story of the caves involves human hands as much as it does myth. Berber people quarried stone from the cave walls to craft millstones, and evidence of Neolithic occupation has been discovered within.

Obligatory Arranged Shopping Trip

Our guide’s next destinations were shopping stops, presented with an assurance that we weren’t obligated to purchase anything. Yet the dynamic felt awkward nonetheless. First came a rug shop, where a sales representative explained that hand-made rugs represented an investment, increasing in value over time with use. The pitch was not aggressive, but persistent. We remained sceptical – not only did we lack knowledge to evaluate what makes a rug worthy of its asking price, but the traditional designs on display clashed entirely with our home’s existing décor. It’s also not financially responsible to make a decision on a four-digit purchase within 15 minutes. We left empty-handed. The next destination though, a spice shop, proved more appealing.

The air hung with the mingled aromas of cumin, cinnamon, turmeric, and dozens of other powders and seeds. The vendor offered argan oil, a product for which Morocco is renowned. Argan trees grow nowhere else on Earth, thriving only in the arid and semi-arid regions of southwestern Morocco. We did end up selecting a few spice mixes and bottles of Argan oil to take home.

The Medina and Its Contradictions

Our guide seemed to possess a social network spanning the entire city. As we navigated the historical medina – that dense quarter of narrow alleyways where markets had operated for centuries – people would recognize him, calling out greetings. He’d pause to chat with shopkeepers and acquaintances, his connections evident in every interaction. The medina itself, however, told a different story about time and commerce. Once the true market of Tangier, it remains a marketplace physically, with shops lining the maze of streets. Yet the merchandise had largely shifted: where artisans once crafted goods by hand, now seems less likely.

The architecture retained its character – whitewashed walls, narrow passages designed for foot traffic, the occasional glimpse of a private courtyard, but the economic reality had transformed entirely. Another observation is that, despite French being an official language of Morocco, I heard it seldomly spoken. People spoke to each other in Arabic, and then English to the tourists. I didn’t even need to speak French at all, despite being comfortable enough in it to navigate around.

Meal Expectations Unfulfilled

Our guide led us to a Moroccan restaurant that catered entirely to cruise ship passengers and tourists, which assured us of safety in food hygiene, but a sign that the food wouldn’t be very good. As we sat down, we scanned the dining room and observed an absolute absence of locals. The meal opened with bread and mezze – a selection of eggplant, peppers, and tomatoes prepared simply but flavourfully. The first course confounded us: a puff pastry topped with powdered sugar and cinnamon arrived before the main dishes. This, we learned, was pastilla, a Moroccan speciality. Pastilla represents the sweet-savory fusion at the heart of Moroccan cuisine. It contained some meat wrapped in dough, but curiously topped with powdered sugar and cinnamon, creating a flavour profile we associated with dessert.

The main course consisted of chicken skewers with couscous, alongside beef stew and chicken stew (likely from a tagine, the traditional conical cooking vessel that permeates Moroccan cuisine). However, the dishes lacked adequate seasoning. The meat was tender enough, but without sufficient salt to draw out the spices’ potential, the meal felt somewhat muted.

The mint tea that concluded the meal redeemed the experience somewhat – hot, refreshing, infused with fresh mint leaves that had clearly come from somewhere nearby.

Returning Across the Strait

The ferry crossing back to Tarifa marked a transition from Morocco to Spain, from the medina’s complexity to European order.

Once we’d settled into our accommodation in Tarifa, we ventured to the hotel’s restaurant for seafood paella – a dish brimming with the flavours that a proper stock can provide, the broth enriched by the essence of shrimp, mussels, and fish. After a day navigating tours, negotiations, and sensory overload, the simple pleasure of excellent seafood felt like a proper ending, though ironically not a Moroccan meal.

Our time in Tangier offered cool highlights – the lighthouse, the legendary caves, and the medina’s winding streets. But the day also presented contradictions that made it memorable in unexpected ways. The camel ride proved far more uncomfortable than expected. The shopping stops tested our patience and skepticism. The restaurant catered so entirely to tourists that locals seemed relegated to a different Tangier altogether. Yet we’d glimpsed not merely the postcard version of a destination, but some of the friction inherent in modern tourism – the tension between preservation and commerce, between authentic space and commercialized experience.

You can view the photo album here

Barcelona

Our journey began in the Catalan capital of Barcelona, where we enjoyed some classic seafood paella before boarding our ship. The rice had absorbed the rich broth, and the heat from the cooking created a nice crust at the bottom of the pan. Tender squid, juicy shrimp, and mussels mingled with the perfectly seasoned rice. The diversity of textures and robust flavors in each mouthful gave us a true taste of the region’s iconic cuisine. We scraped the final grains of rice from the pan. Maybe one day I could make a paella as good as this to recreate this experience.

With only a little time before our cruise departure, we took a quick stroll down the famous Las Ramblas to soak in the vibrant city atmosphere, even though it was difficult to navigate while carrying our luggage. This was okay though as we’ve visited Barcelona before.

Valencia

Our first port of call was Valencia, known for its impressive medieval old town. We started in the bustling central market, but found out it was closed on Sundays, and instead only saw people outside selling old junk from their houses. The only interesting thing there were Spanish Pokemon cards.

We then visited the 15th century La Lonja silk exchange, a UNESCO World Heritage site noted for its Gothic architecture. Though no longer a center of commerce, this historic building transports visitors back to Valencia’s golden era. This grandiose building with its colonnaded central hall and twisting columns was the center of Valencia’s thriving silk trade for centuries.

As we arrived at the Valencia Cathedral, we were treated to an unexpected scene. Groups of children and adults dressed in elaborate traditional costumes were flocking to the cathedral. We thought this parade might have been part of the annual Las Fallas festival, but it wasn’t that time of the year.

On the edge of the old town, we visited the Torres de Serranos, a part of the city’s medieval fortifications from the 14th century. The towers rise nearly 20 meters high on either side of the gates. They were originally linked by a bridge over the road, from which arrows and boiling oil could be rained down on would-be invaders. Despite some damage over the centuries, the twin towers have survived as an imposing relic of Valencia’s medieval defenses.

One of the more whimsical sights we a cat door built into the wall of a building, and it allows the city’s stray cats to come and go as they please. Another sight was visiting the outside of the bullfighting arena. Even though there was no bullfighting event happening at the time, it still allowed us to see this iconic part of Spanish culture.

We were only able to scratch the surface, and next time we go back, we’ll go to stuff we wanted to go to but didn’t have time for like the City of Arts and Sciences complex.

Ibiza

Another stop along the cruise was in sunny Ibiza, which offers a vibrant mix of beachside relaxation and exploration of historic sights. During our recent visit, we discovered some of the island’s cultural gems, the island’s famous walled old town of Dalt Vila, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. From the window of our room on the cruise ship, we could see the Dalt Vila.

Strolling through Dalt Vila, the diverse architectural influences are striking, from the grand Catalan-Gothic Catedral de Santa Maria d’Eivissa to the humble whitewashed houses draped with vibrant flowers. We also spotted the 16th century Castell d’Eivissa perched atop the highest point. We could even spot our cruise ship docked at the port far below.

After taking in the impressive cathedral, we continued to stroll Dalt Vila’s labyrinth of narrow cobblestone streets. Flower-filled balconies and whitewashed houses flanked our path. The charming architecture and relaxed pace made it easy to imagine life centuries ago within these walls. Before heading back down the hill, we stopped at a cafe tucked within the city walls. There we sipped mojitos (albeitly overpriced), the perfect refreshing drink after ourwalk, and soaked in the ambience around us.

Our day in Dalt Vila provided a beautiful glimpse into Ibiza’s history and culture. Getting lost in its winding alleys while surrounded by medieval architecture was an unforgettable experience. We can’t wait to return to further explore this magnificent walled city.

See here for more of Barcelona, Valencia, and Ibiza

As the final day of 2022 came to a close, we took a trip to Portugal. We found ourselves in the heart of Lisbon, looking to experience the local New Year’s Eve festivities. The city was alive with excitement and anticipation, as locals and visitors alike gathered to ring in the new year.

We started our evening at Rossio Square, where large crowds had already begun to gather. We meandered through the city streets, eating Pastéis de Natas, a sweet, flaky pastry is filled with a creamy, egg-based custard that is lightly dusted with cinnamon and powered sugar. I can still feel that crunch in my head when I think about it. The best one we had was from here

We also got to try Pastel de Bacalhau, a dish that combines the salty flavor of bacalhau with a crispy, flaky pastry crust. It is typically made with shredded salted cod, onions, and potatoes, and is often served as a snack or appetizer.

Along the walk, we encountered a café with a sign that probably would have gotten a lot of angry complaints where I live. Or maybe I’m just “woke”

The shop itself actually sells coffee beans and tea leaves in additional to other local souvenirs. Nothing wrong with that – it’s just the sign.

Lisbon was quite alive with twinkling lights and festive decorations. The streets and squares are lit up with colorful displays. In addition to the lights and fireworks, Lisbon during New Year’s Eve is also a time for celebration, with parties and events taking place all across the city.

To add onto the New Year’s festivities, the city set up stands where people could just buy a beer and drink it as they walked around. If people in North America were more responsible with their alcohol, this could work too

For dinner, we ate at a place serving paellas, both in the Portuguese and Spanish style (with port wine of course). Paella has a rich and savory flavor that is characterized by the seafood, meats, and vegetables that bring depth and richness to the dish. The perfectly cooked rice, which should be tender yet not mushy, adds a creamy texture to the dish.

As we waited, a gentleman working there chatted with us to help us pass the time as we waited. One thing we immediately noticed is that a lot of the restaurants in the area were purely there to serve tourists. The restaurant itself was run by Nepali immigrants (they couldn’t even tell us how to say “happy new year” in Portuguese). Still, the food was pretty good – there was even another couple who came back the next day.

Eventually we reached the Praça do Comércio. The crowds were so large it became impossible to actually get into the plaza. Not wanting to fight the crowd, we turned back. It was ripe for pickpockets to do their work. Instead we walked around the town looking for a good angle to see the New Year’s fireworks

The streets were filled with the sounds of music, and laughter, as revelers counted down to the new year. At midnight, the sky exploded with a dazzling display of lights and color, as the city celebrated the arrival of the new year. The sky lit up and and the air was filled with cheers and applause.

More photos of Portugal