A city of smoke and grit. The doors of the ferry from Tarifa spill open into the streets of Tangier, which itself seems ready to tumble from the rocks upon which it clings.

You are carried forth by the crowd crushing the customs office. The waves pound on the shore. You are waved on without even a glance at your passport, and the city swallows you in.

Beyond the gates of the port, the chaos of the city waits. Taxi cabs, hucksters and conmen stand just outside. You are a tourist; you are a target. My first piece of advice is to remember that everyone has a hustle here. Tourism is the only thing keeping the economic engine of the city sputtering and coughing up smoke, so you are either a part of it or a parasite on it.

As we stumbled into the sunlight, orienting ourselves in the glare of the new king’s white mosque (he wants you to know whose country you are in), we found our first taste of Tangier. A kid, smooth-talking and babyfaced, asked us if we knew where we were going. We did, but had made the unfortunate decision to walk. He followed. With bullshit stories of studies in America and the same helpful tips you’ll find in any guidebook, he followed us to our rented room. Finally he broke his friendly facade, offering us hash, then telling us we owed him a tip after we turned him down. My tip was that there are other suckers around. Welcome to Tangier.

There’s no other city I have felt this way in, but your hotel room at times feels more like a refuge than anything else. Downstairs, crouching just beyond the door, the streets of the Petit Socco, tangled and wild, lie in wait.

From the gutters to the reborn sticking from the rooftops, this city, built by every culture in history that has conquered land and shore, belongs to no one. Tangier is that dark corner of your heart that calls to the void; embrace it or let it swallow you whole. It is an international city, a creature of our own making, ready for the taking and the right price.

Beneath the crumbling cobblestone, there is beauty to be found. Tangier is a city of contrasts. While one dark alley dead ends in discarded refuse, another breaks into sunlight with views of the bare hillside falling away into the blue of the Mediterranean. One of the best views is from the Bab Al Bahr. From there, the old walls of the old fortress hold the shadows of lush gardens under the immense sky.

Also, check out the Kasbah - a white-washed fortress that reaches from the top of the cliff (there’s only one there, you’ll figure it out). For only about 20 dirham ($2), you can walk the tiled courtyards and look at artifacts from thousands of years ago. While there, make sure you look up; whether it’s the deep blue of the Moroccan sky or the carefully carved scriptures of conquerors past, you will be missing half of the beauty if you don’t.

The main sights of Tangier can be seen in about a day: the typical tourist stops like Old Medina with it’s musical cadence of vendors selling everything from rugs to hammered silver mixing with the smells of fresh produce and spiced olives; the lighthouses of Cap Spartel and Cape Malabata that reach their rugged cliffs out towards where the horizon meets the open sea; or the many mosques scattered around the city, each with their own calls to prayer and ornate architecture which proclaims the glory of the gods we pray to.

Beyond that, you will find that life moves at a different pace here; broken up by the calls to prayer and by coffees and teas sipped slowly on cafe terraces as the afternoon passes by.