Morocco: A trip of finally getting it right

Alright. From the top.

So I left off with us being ripped off by a terrible, terrible Maltese man. No more looking back. Onward we go.

Day 12 -> March 5th
Our flight from Tunis had a stopover in Sicily before going to Casablanca. It was a nice roundabout (doubling-back) way of doing things. The flight to Sicily was short and without incident, as most flights tend to be. The flight from Sicily was another story. Firstly, because the flight then was from Sicily to Casablanca on a Maltese airline, all the announcements were in Maltese, English, Italian, French and Arabic. Needless to say, it took a long time to explain the safety procedures. Later on during the flight, I had to go to the washroom. I walked to the back of the plane to find the flight attendants in quite the agitated state. The female flight attendant came out of the washroom, saw me standing there, and locked it. The male one wanted to let me use it, and after some arguing, I was allowed to pee. Darn sporting of them. Anyway, this entire time they were fighting in frantic Maltese, but I managed to discern the word ‘cigarette’ from the bickering. Someone had been smoking in the toilets. Now from Sicily to Casablanca is not a long flight. Around two hours. And this was about 45 minutes into it. So anyway, an announcement came on shortly after that said ‘It is forbidden to smoke in the toilets’.
Except this time, it was only in Italian.

So the Italians all started getting out of hand and we thought there was going to be a riot, but it settled itself down. There were a few more incidents of people doing airplane ‘no-nos’ such as standing up while the seat belt sign was on and while taxiing (as we hadn’t come to a full and complete stop). Honestly, it was the worst behaved flight I’ve ever been on. But we made it to Casablanca, nonetheless. Kevin and I earlier had made the decision to leave Casablanca immediately and go to Marrakech. It was waiting on the platform there where we met our surrogate Australian family. It was a mother and a son and they immediately spotted us as travelers due to our blonde hair and patch-covered backpacks. So we shared a cabin on the train and chatted for the three-hour ride to Marrakech. Kevin and I had booked a room for one night already (due to the Tunisian fiasco – see, we learn) so they decided to follow us as they had no plans. En route we spotted some more backpackers with a map, so we picked them up too. These ones were Polish, but spoke English. We had booked our place on Hostelworld.com, and the one recommendation the reviews gave it was that it is hard to find, so call the hostel to send a guide for you. So we called the guide. Those reviews were right; it would have been impossible to find. And even though there was only a reservation for two, all six of us went. Kevin and I thought we should have gotten commission for bringing the place so much business. Anyway, it was a Riad, which is a renovated old home in the medina. It was so nice and so was the owner. He sat down with us and gave us all the mint tea we could handle.

(Side note: mint tea is freaking delicious. My god.).

So our Polish/Australian new best friends stuck with us and we headed down to the main square of the medina to check out the food stalls. This experience at first was overwhelming to say the least. You have a bunch of outdoor food stalls with people yelling at you to eat in their shops, touching and dragging you towards their food. Suzanne, Mama Aussie, took the brunt of this. Once we realized they were all the same and offered vegetarian stuff for Kevin, it was more relaxing. The food was cheap and good. I actually loved the food stalls after, and we ate there every night. We just sat down at the first one we would see and watched them harass everyone else. It was great and all in good fun.

Day 13 -> March 6th
Since we only had a reservation for two people and the Riad was full for that evening, we all (the six of us) had to change riads. The owner has three properties so it wasn’t a problem. Kevin and I decided to wander around the medina and try to see the Jewish quarter. It was hot (at least 25 C) and again like in Tunisia, it was impossible to navigate. We think we found the Jewish neighbourhood because sketchy guys who wanted to guide us to the synagogue said so. However, they were so persistent and annoying that we just left. It was frustrating getting around. Eventually we just retraced our steps to find the main square. We wandered the souks for awhile. Contrary to Tunis, these were easy to get around. We did a bit of shopping. We don’t really like/aren't good at haggling though. We decided to then go back to the riad. Unfortunately, we got lost. We knew we were in the right area, but we couldn’t find the damn thing. So we admitted defeat and wandered all the way back to the other riad so that someone would guide us. We felt like perfect idiots.

What was nice about the riads is that they created a very social atmosphere. We met some posh English folk from London and these two Russian girls who were such stereotypes that they were inadvertently both hilarious and terrifying. It was nice, especially since I don’t actually like Kevin, so any distraction was appreciated. Don’t feel bad for him. It’s mutual.

Day 14 -> March 7th
We were planning on staying another night in Marrakech, but our riad supposedly had no room. So after we spent all morning trying to find somewhere else to stay, it turned out there was a mistake, and they had room for all four of us (the Polish guys left). So that was good. We had enough of trying to get around the medina, so the Australians and us rented a cab to drive us through the Atlas Mountains. The mountains and scenery were beautiful. It was cool to feel so hot, and yet see snow in the distance on the mountains. The people who live there are called Berbers. We saw one of their homes. It was awkward because we didn’t really want to go, but our driver stopped there, so we went in. I don’t really like doing stuff like that because it makes me feel like I’m going to a human zoo.
Anyway.

Earlier, our driver had stopped to pray, so we bought some bread and cheese from a small shop nearby. There was a random tourist area in the mountains, so we found some spare grass (or rocks) and had a picnic. I’m really glad we took the ride out there. It was worth it. That night we went to the food stalls with the Australians. Suzanne had read that one stall sold lentil soups, so we went there. It was really good, but I knew as I was eating it that it would come back and haunt me in the night.
In the echoey riad.
Where every sound from every room in amplified by the central courtyard.

And I was right.

It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. But still. Unfortunate.
On a less personal note, after dinner we went back into the souks and were greatly entertained by Suzanne and Tristan haggling. It was quite fun to watch. They had all the shopkeepers interested and there was yelling in the streets. It was quite funny post-dinner entertainment.

Day 15 – March 8th
We had to leave that day to go back to Casablanca. The Australians had found a cheap hotel there, so we called ahead and made a reservation. We said bye to them and Rashida (the girl who ran our riad) and took the train back to Casablanca. There was some confusion and indecisiveness when we approached the city and we got off a bit early. It wasn’t a big deal and the faux pas cost Kevin 70 cents. When we got to Casablanca, we were given another nice treat. As soon as you get off the train, people find you and try to take you to their taxi and the subsequently rip you off. This one guy approached, and we said no. We wanted to find one on the street we could negotiate with. Anyway, the original guy saw us talk with and get in another taxi. So he yelled something in Arabic and ended off with a ‘Fuck you tourists!’ That guy has a fool proof business strategy.
Anyway. Back in the cab, the guy tried to say that our hotel we were going to was expensive, around fifty euros a night. We were warned this would happen (where they tell you this and then drive you to their friend’s hotel and receive some sort of commission) so I yelled ‘ÇA VA!’ (it’s fine!), and he stopped talking to me but still kept badgering Kevin. He even said he’d wait outside the hotel to drive us to another place once we realized it was too expensive. The hotel was 9 euros a night each.
Guy was an idiot.

So we had an early dinner and walked to the Hassan II Mosque, which is one of the biggest mosques in the world. It is also Casablanca’s only tourist attraction. Casablanca looks like a European city, for the most part. Just warmer. Back to the mosque, we knew it was too late for a tour, but we went there for the sunset. It is right on the coast, so we wanted to get a look at the Atlantic Ocean. There were so many people just sitting outside of the mosque, and the sunset was really pretty. We left shortly after sundown and went back to the hotel. It was around 7:30. And we were bored.

As.

Shit.

There wasn’t much to do around us and we had little money left and didn’t want to get anymore out. So we sat in our hotel and died a little inside.

Day 16 -> March 9th -> our last day (officially)
We woke up pretty early and went to the mosque. It is one of the few mosques in Muslim Africa where non-Muslims are allowed inside. I brought a scarf for my hair, but it wasn’t necessary. When we arrived, we were a bit startled at the price, which was twelve euros each. Kevin tried to use his student card, which is expired. It didn’t work, but they gave us a slightly reduced rate because we probably looked desperate and poor. The English speaking tour was too big, so we joined the French one. I understood most of it when I tried, which was hardly ever. I generally zone out on any and all tours.

So today was the last day of our trip. It was quite sad. But it wasn’t quite over. We had a flight to Madrid with Easyjet, and then 12 hours later (5:45 am Monday) we had another flight with Ryanair. This seems ridiculous, but I’ll explain later why it was good. So, we got a cab back to the train station and had another kafuffle with a taxi driver. Good thing our hotel guy was there because he made sure we got a taxi with a meter in it (most don’t run the meter so they can rip you off). We got to the airport easily. We did have a ridiculous check in woman, and the interaction between her, Kevin and I could have been an SNL skit. We arrived in Madrid on time. Earlier, Kevin had emailed some friends we have from Leeds who live in Madrid. One of them, Maria, and now the new favourite, got back to us and we had dinner and drinks with her. She is so generous and nice, it was such a good time. I can’t wait to see her again at Mauricio’s wedding! But anyway, we took the last metro back to the airport, “slept” there, and got on the plane. I guess it’s Day 17 now. Our flight landed in Beauvais airport, which is where Ryanair takes you when you are flying to Paris. The flight was 25 minutes early (unreal), however, the bus ride that was supposed to take 45 minutes, took 2.5 hours. Yay rush hour in Paris! Also, when we landed, we actually just walked into the ‘airport’ (barn) and then onto the bus. There was no security or passport control. WTF? Anyway, by this point, I was feeling quite ill. My lentil soup experience was still lingering and my head hurt and just an all around feeling of shittiness had overtaken me. So I called in sick to work and skipped school. I essentially took a personal day to recover from my vacation.

And that sums up my big trip. Things are completely back to normal now. I felt fine around Wednesday of last week when things began to…ahem… ‘solidify’. It was such a good holiday and it put me in such a great mood and was so much fun. Hope you enjoyed the account in its entirety.

Ciao
xo

PS Tunisia pics are up