Morocco - Casablanca, Rabat & Meknes

As a doctor, Rachel gets very specified time off and on the rare occasion she's free and up for a trip, usually I would pounce on it. However, when she called me to say she'd booked herself on a trip to Morocco, leaving the following week, I was like, "that's great, have fun".

When I told Dave later that night that Rachel was spending a week in Morocco, his response surprised me: "Why don't you go with her?" I scoffed and sputtered. I have work, it's next week, they would never allow it, etc. But he had planted a seed. Why couldn't I go? I had no meetings, no big deadlines, no big projects. By the end of the night, I had planned out the speech I'd give to my bosses as to why I should be allowed to go. And by some miracle, after performing the passionate speech in front of the necessary people, I was happily surprised they were completely ok with it. 

So that's how on Tuesday, March 15th, I booked a trip to Morocco that left Friday, March 25th.

Let's start with the mildly foolish concept that we decided to take this trip in the midst of the Arab Spring. While Morocco wasn't experiencing anything as wild as some other countries in the area, like Tunisia or Libya, it's still a predominantly Arab-Muslim country.

Second, Rachel and I lived on different coasts. That means we would fly alone and meet at the hotel. Another slightly concerning experience for my first trip to the African continent. I have to say that flying on Air Maroc was one of the craziest flying experiences I've had to date. I was one of the only women flying solo, there was no entertainment on board to speak of, and no one seemed to care about the seatbelt sign. It was just a giant free-for-all. People were hanging out in the aisles and chatting throughout the entire red-eye as though they were at the local bar.

Despite all this relatively lax behavior, they spared no expense on the food. It was quite the meal. And the flight attendants made sure no one missed out on it - if someone was asleep when the meals came around, the flight attendants would actually shake them to wake them up. I found out later that this is fairly normal on flights to Africa because people usually don't pass up any opportunity for a free meal.

When morning came after very little sleep and a surprisingly short flight, it was completely cloudy out the window. The pilot announced our descent and as we went down, there was still no landscape to be seen. Honestly, I saw nothing until the wheels hit the ground - it was kind of surprising and eery and perfectly summed up how I felt about this mysterious trip I had just jumped on board. However, once off the plane, I looked back and couldn't help quoting Humphrey Bogart "Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life..."

I nearly had a scare in the airport when my bag never came through the luggage cart. I waited in line for about an hour for the baggage claim services, trying to debate how best to say "purple knapsack" in either French or Arabic, when my bag came plopping out on the luggage belt. I think someone got lazy and just decided to bring my bag in with the next flight. 

The tour company, GAP Adventures, thankfully sent a driver to come get me, though I was panicked he would have left after the bag debacle. Luckily he didn't, and I finally got to relax and enjoy the scenery of Morocco. (This was far less exciting than Rachel's driver, who was all over the road while snorting some sort of blue powder up his nose the whole drive. She was texting me with her last wishes in case she didn't make it). 

Casablanca sits on the Atlantic Ocean, making it Morocco's largest port city. We pulled up to a hotel that sat right on the beach, and I was surprised to see what a little oasis this was in the congestion of the city we had just driven through. 

The front of the hotel was about as cliche as it gets, but it was also very accommodating and relaxing. My room was already ready, despite my early check-in, and I was able to wander the property while taking the occasional jetlagged nap. 

I wandered out to the edge of the hotel property to look down on the beach. I think what surprised me most was the lack of women. The few women that were on the beach were understandably wrapped in a hijab and always accompanied by family and other men. Being completely on my own, I decided that I'd just enjoy the view from the hotel rather than wander down to the sand. 

Later that day, I took a stroll out along a pedestrian walkway that passed right by our hotel and went along the water. I was still on my own (Rachel was having her wild cab ride), but I felt like such a bum sitting in the hotel. I figured a pedestrian walkway was easier to navigate alone out as I had an easy route back. 

As I wandered, I realized it was the first time I was in a country where I was such an outsider. People blatantly stared as I walked by. Obviously, nothing about me blended in, and it was definitely a weird feeling. But I tried my best to ignore, and enjoyed the beautiful shoreline, dotted with seaside restaurants and shops. It was really kind of surreal: the mix of the familiarity of a seaside resort with a culture I was so unfamiliar with. 

When I returned back, it was time to meet up with the rest of our GAP group. Still no sign of Rachel, so I took care of introductions and met the other 8 people we would be traveling with, as well as our guide, Lahoucine. Lahoucine was fascinating, hailing from a Berber village up in the Atlas mountains, he was still getting used to big city living. He spoke English well, but there were definitely many "lost in translation" moments. But he had a big heart and warm smile, and was such a sweet guide. 

We asked Lahoucine to take us out to dinner at a local restaurant. This was our first "lost in translation" moment as he took us to what felt like Moroccan McDonalds in the middle of a giant mall. Not exactly how we expected to kick things off, but we just went ahead and ordered and laughed it all off. 

We got a more authentic experience when we found a local bar with belly dancing for entertainment. So fascinating that of the few women on the beach, they were all covered head to toe, but belly dancing is totally ok. We were obviously quite ok with it, so we enjoyed the entertainment while everyone got to know each other. 

Luckily, Rachel finally arrived, and I breathed a sigh of relief. While I had met my group, it was just a lot more comfortable with her by my side (and knowing she was safe and sound!). 

Despite its famous name and notoriety in pop-culture, Casablanca is mostly an industrial city that pales in comparison by way of sites to the rest of Morocco. So bright and early the next morning, we set out on our journey with no more time in the city. Our first stop was just a little ways up the coast from Casablanca, the city of Rabat. 

Rabat is the current capital of Morocco. Appropriately so, one of our first stops was to the Dar al-Makhzen, the royal residence of the king of Morocco. At first, it felt odd they'd just allow a bunch of tourists to pull up and check the place out. It was filled with beautiful courtyards and gardens, and buildings that gave "government buildings" an Arabic flair.  

But as we explored, we started spotting the barricades that made it clear there were many areas we were not allowed to go. 

We later learned that this fountain is only turned on when the king is home. No wonder we were allowed so close, nobody's at home!

After the royal tour, we headed to the southern part of the city to wander the Chellah Gardens. These structures have actually been here since pre-Islamic times, when the Romans inhabited the area. It was originally called Sala. 

Some of the original main streets from the Roman times are still apparent in the ruins. 

Some great views of the countryside. So much greener than I expected. 

When it was abandoned in 1154AD, it became a necroplis, a place to bury the dead. Mosques and other structures were built for this purpose.

In 1755, the earthquake that famously ravaged Portugal brought many of these structures down as well. Now it serves as a public garden among the rubble of the ruined buildings. 

Some performers hanging out outside the gate. With drums beating, dancing moves, and a ball on a string whirling on his head, definitely a different type of busker than I've ever seen. 

Continuing on our tour of the capital city, we next headed to the Yacoub al-Mansour esplanade where two important sites sit: the Mausoleum of Mohammed V and the Hassan Tower. 

First up was the Mausoleum. This was a beautiful structure, almost blindingly white and gleaming in the mid-afternoon sun.  

Inside are the remains of King Mohammed V and his two sons, King Hassan II and Prince Abdallah. King Hassan II was only buried there upon his death in 1999. In the corner of the mausoleum sits a man who reads the Koran. 

Across the esplanade sits the tall Hassan Tower. Intended to be the largest minaret in the world, accompanied by the largest mosque in the world, construction on both stopped four years after the Sultan who started the project died in 1199AD. Now, the minaret sits at about half of its intended size, and the mosque is nothing more than 200 unfinished columns. 

As non-Muslims, we had to stay put over here.

But we still got some great views of the water from the esplanade. 

Our final stop in Rabat was at the Kasbah of the Udayas. Hidden behind a massive sandstone gate, the scene behind is completely different. In fact, are we back in Greece?? This quiet neighborhood was beautiful and peaceful.

Leaving Rabat, we drove for about an hour to the city of Meknes. Founded in the 11th century, this city really took off when Moulay Ismail became the Sultan of Morocco in 1672 and made it the capital. He had his royal palace here, of which you can still tour certain parts. This was his grainery.

The most visually awe-inspiring were his royal stables.  For the fact this was built for horses, this was such an architectural feat of symmetry. He kept his 12,000 Arabian stallions in these parts. As you walked through this area, the alignment of all the archways was mind boggling. 

Our final stop of Meknes was at the Mausoleum of Ismael. A visit here is considered to be a divine blessing.  The gateway and inner courtyard were certainly beautiful.

Inside is a mosque that contains Ismael's tomb. As such, shoes had to come off so we could wander the complex, covered in woven straw rugs for comfort. 

Despite not being in the book, I thought these three cities had so much to offer. There was so much history and culture, I feel like my mind was on complete overload from this 24 hour experience. The most amazing part was that according to everything we read, the best was yet to come.