Expect the unexpected
At the railway ticket counter in Casablanca we are told only cash in local currency will be accepted. So one of us ( a group of 5, 2 men and 3 women)goes to a money changer, gets the necessary cash and then buys the return tickets. We wait in the station that is bright and shiny with clean efficiency
The country side
Our train ride reveals rural Morocco interspersed with urban areas that reflect the country's development. The farms are in barious stages of agriculture depending on the crop. The modest life stock graze peacefully in verdant pastures.Closer to Rabat stands a stadium.
Capital efficiency
The station at Rabat has typical Moroccan pendant lamps with cast iron detailing at the entrance. It's all very neat and tidy.
As we step out we see clean trams and tram tracks. But the city seems to be compact enough to explore on foot. Again French is widely spoken. Sign boards appear in French as well
A calm before the storm?
The chic of the young women and men going about their business is impressive. But tourists are few and far between. The sum result is that it is calmer than Tangier, not to speak of Marrakech and Fez which are, of course, the prime tourist cities for Morocco. As a result we feel very relaxed as we go about.
At a leisurely pace
Ahead of us, as we walk in the general direction of the city centre is the long rampart ubiquitous to Morocco. The square minaret of the Hassan Mosque stands out. That must be the whereabouts of the medina. The minaret stands alone. Of the once exquisite Mosque ( the the second largest in the Islamic world)only the minaret remains. Most of the medieval city was destroyed by the Portugese in the 16th century. Adjacent to it is the mausoleum of Mohammed V. We simply walk by having already taken in the green roofs from a distance.
Large gates lead into the palace grounds, replete with enchantingly pruned trees standing majestically along the path while another leads into the medina revealing and arched walkway. It is cast in shadows with an intermittent golden glow between the pillars. It seems to be gloomy since it is devoid of activity.
Ville Nouvelle: new town
A little further out are white buildings that mark the modern city. Palm lined boulevards and little parks with boxed trees add to the charm. The most interesting building is the art museum with filigree arches on the verandah surrounding the building, a little like a building you'll find in New Orleans. The French influence.
The ‘storm’: a hasty retreat
Just when we feel we should return to the station for our return journey to casablanca so as not to miss our boat, we notice that the traffic which had picked up a little earlier has now subsided. There are lots more men walking about. In front of the minaret, out on the lawn, men are seated on their prayer mats ready for prayers. We get strange looks at first. And then we get 10 metre piercing looks. It seems to get more threatening by the moment.
All eyes on us, our adrenalin pumping, the missing variable suddenly strikes home: today is a Friday , the holiest day for Muslims. The three women in our group are bare headed.
Tourist etiquette:
Nothing to it but to make a hasty exit out of respect for the local culture.
Friday evening prayers have brought all the Muslim men to their knees. Women worship in a separate, usually enclosed, area. The city has virtually come to a standstill.
Luckily for us, our train back to Casablanca efficiently runs on schedule .
A bonus with little time to spare
As we return to our ship and feast on tacos we realise that we have local currency that is practically worthless anywhere else but in the Morrocco. Casablanca, our present port, is the last stop in Morocco. We have to use it up. As we entered the port earlier in the day we walked by a huge tented temporary market for Moroccan craft including leather bags. It has started rainng. I grab an umbrella and make a 10 min dash to the only stall that is open. it has leather handbags. Glad that the choice had narrowed, I select one and ask for the price. It is a lot more than the cash I have on hand. The salesman has to close shop. Ideal for bargaining. There is a small remonstrance. I show him the amount I have. He takes it quietly and hands me the bag. I rush back to the ship before the rain begins to pelt, minutes before the gangway is reeled in.
In ordinary circumstances I would never have bought a leather hand bag. We do not invest in souvniers. What a day of contrasting emotions.
