Snow to the South

So What do we do? Head west! The recent storm added snow to the south in the Atlas mountains. Maybe in a couple weeks things will get better. Our hotel for the first night was simple but they let me pull the motorcycle inside to keep it secure. They told us not to worry about the motorcycle in Morocco, no one will touch or steal it. We were the only people staying at the hotel. Unusual, we thought. But after a couple weeks we realized it was definite off season, so fairly common. Across the street was a little restaurant. Tajine is a national dish here. It is named for the cone-shaped earthenware pot in which it is made. Vegetables can be added. A protein can be included. A delicious sauce is cooked over a fire or in a stove. It is served in the clay bowl. We both ordered one. Melanie opted for lemon poulet (chicken) tajine and I for kefta tajine (meatball). We usually order different dishes in case one of us doesn’t like what we ordered.

The next morning we rode to the city of Rabat. We needed to do some laundry and wanted to explore on foot and relax. We found a beautiful 2 bedroom apartment with a washer. It was on the Atlantic Ocean and promised some incredible sunsets. Hopping on the bike we went to the market in town for some groceries. It seems CareFour markets in Morocco stock wine, beer and alcohol. Who knew? The apartment overlooked the parking lot where the bike was parked. When we got upstairs I looked outside and there was a man all excited to see an obvious well-traveled bike. I waved at him and he said he wanted to talk with us later. Fantastic. He left and took another peek at the bike. Four kids had gathered around and the little girl was trying to peal a loose sticker off. Just what kids do. I had to laugh. One looked up to see me and I laughed and wagged my finger at them. They sheepishly tucked and ran. I grabbed some of my stickers and wandered downstairs looking for the would-be thieves. I could see them peeking out from behind curtained windows. After a while they came back out to play. One little curious boy approached me like I was ready to BBQ him. So cautious! I handed him a sticker and all four came running. So cute, and no more issues. When I motioned for them to line up by the bike, no worries. A Kodak moment! BTW, later that night the clouds messed with the sunset, so drinks on the beach with shade.

The next afternoon the man taking the photos of the bike reappeared. We invited him up to chat. We had such a wonderful connection. Olivier was from Switzerland and married to a Moroccan woman. We discovered we had a similar past and passions. He was an Anesthesiologist and I, a Perfusionist. Both healthcare. Outside was his motorcycle, a Swiss-plated BMW ST. After some time chatting, he invited us to his apartment. It was just above ours. It was so beautifully remodeled and decorated with a traditional Moroccan feel. The big furniture, like dressers, were all handmade with intricate carvings and inlays into the wood. Just exquisite! His beautiful wife, Najia, made some delicious mint tea. She served some dates, olives, and a flaky pastry drizzled in honey. Yum. All too quickly it was time to leave. You meet people on the road that will leave a forever lasting impression. This describes these two people. In the morning we had checked out and were waiting on the stoop for the rain to let up. Olivier came down and joined us. He gifted us some homemade orange jam that Nadia had made. He also gifted me a copy of the Quran, in English. Thank you Olivier for your kindness and friendship. Shukran lakum wabarak Allah fikum.

We made our way on some small minor roads towards our next destination, Casablanca. It seems Casablanca is famous for, among other things, the movie with the same name. The restaurant from the movie, Rick’s Cafe, is a serious tourist trap. We went on walkabout and stopped off at Rick’s, only wanting a drink and some ambiance. The place is rather posh, I guess. The doorman glanced at us in our traveler clothes. He didn’t seem eager to open the door for us. Well, guess what? FUCK OFF! You’re just not that special and I’ll take my crumpled $$’s elsewhere. We then got caught into a common trap. The guy walks by and says that he remembers you from check-in at the hotel. He tells you that today is a very special day because of something. He then delivers you to a shop. A rug shop, in our case. The owner was very nice and offered us tea. Then he went on a elaborate presentation showing and enplaning rug after rug. They dug many out while trying to relive me of my money. It was very entertaining and informative. The colors and fabric used in each creation was brilliant. After a bit Melanie got bored and went off walking. I had to gently let the guy down by saying Ja (No) shkran (thank you). Then I just had to leave. If you enter into a negotiation you feel more obligated because you show interest.

On the waterfront is the Hassan II Mosque. This enormous place of worship is the second largest in Africa and the 14th largest in the world. It’s minaret is the second tallest at 210 meters. Completed in 1993, this mosque can accommodate up to 105,000 worshipers. There can be 25,000 people inside the mosque hall and another 80,000 on the mosque’s outside ground.

The rest off the day was fun, wandering the back streets. Melanie just sometimes shakes her head, curses me and wonders where the hell I’m taking her. You can look at the photos and decide if it’s her or me. LOL.

We headed back to our beautiful hostel. It had secure inside-the-gate motorcycle parking. It was late in the day. We stopped for a bottle of wine on the way back. I was opening the bottle in the room when it slipped from my hands. A bottle of wine making contact with a beautiful tile floor make for a glorious explosion, and purple mess. I sort of kept my cool, (Melanie says I didn’t) and started the task of mopping up the mess. Great end to the day. At least we got to eat at one of the 14 KFC’s in the city. It was great.

In the morning we continued south, but that will be saved for the next post…

Cheers,

2WANDRRs