Roaming Rabat

With the usual arguments with taxi drivers at Rabat Station and a sincere conversation with a young man of Senegalese origin, we opted to walk to the hotel which was described as being 300m up the road. ‘Up’ was the right word to use because after a part of flat but rather broken roads and pavings, it did start to climb.

All that luggage to be hauled among 6 people. It was a lot and rather a sight too. Hans was suffering of both the heat and the weight but finally we were there. The rooms were booked already and they all got into their respective rooms to find that there were neither towels nor soap. This came a few minutes later.

The men went to the South African Embassy on an information gathering mission and came back looking very pleased with themselves. They were having a drink at the bar downstairs when the ladies decided to go out for a stroll. Finally, they all decided to go patronize a pizza place up the road and also find an internet café for making photocopies etc.

They did find a ‘cyber’ and after dinner they went to look for a place to make photocopies. It was by then 21h00 but they still found a small bookshop open, photocopies could be done that place.

While they men went to the various embassies on the other side of town the women decided that they will investigate town with the new tramway service that was just inaugurated in May. So, they went downtown, across the river, and back up and then again to the square next to their hotel.

It was a very pleasant ride which took about 2 odd hours, they were very comfortable. Orange juices were de rigueur after that. When the men got back from their visa trip, they all went to have a bite at the Petit Resto, a bistrot type eatery in the area where the French Institute is – Quartier Hassan.

Later in the afternoon, we took the tram for one stop only – so the husbands could get the feel of it. We walked through one of the many ‘baab’s of the old city, into the market. It was not very busy yet. The first few vendors they encountered were rather rude. We could not understand whether they were not interested to sell or just have had a bad day but their rudeness was rather surprising.

Further up the road the other vendors were quite keen to talk and show their wares: carpets, durries, kelims, leatherware, fabric etc. the way these shops were set up, they looked like one could imagine ‘Ali Baba’s’ cave to be, going deep inside, filled with wild and wonderful wares.









It was a bit of a walk to the fancy restaurant they had booked inside the old town – Al Dinajat. 

Then they set out to look for a restaurant in the old Medina. Finally they found it after one wrong turn; someone was kind enough to point them in the right direction. It was in an old but grand house. The décor was nice without being overbearing.












They chose dishes to share: pigeon b’stilla, lamb couscous with 7 vegetables and lamb shank tajine. Everything was delicious, even the chili sauce. The pudding was also a b'stilla.


The loo was quite something else…..



















After this sumptuous dinner, we walked back, going in a rather roundabout way. It is not easy to find the way with a map in Rabat, street names are rather scarce, rusted or downright non-existent. We did not get lost though.




Thursday, we explored the market a little more. On Thursdays there is a carpet sale, where the weavers from the village come to the souk to sell their carpets to the shopkeepers. Then, we went to the ‘Casbah’ and enjoyed its peace and quiet in there. They had a good view of the sea front from the casbah battlements. The visit to the weavers was interesting. They did tell the weavers that they were only browsing but that seems to be ‘payant’ as is many things in Morocco.










From living in South Africa, one is very aware of poverty that is also very apparent in Morocco. However, this constant expectation for tips is to be expected but because one looks foreign, they seem to expect more and even get cross when their expectations are not fulfilled. This makes things not so pleasant, there is a certain trepidation before visiting any place or doing anything as banal as asking for information.

For lunch, they decided to walk to a popular grill up the road from the Hotel, the ‘Coq Magique’. the place was crowded, where they seated us was too hot for Hans who promptly got back to the hotel. Coen ordered mechoui and Stephanus some lamb chops. Both dishes were generous and tasty. There were olives for everyone, served with a cumin/chilli sauce. That evening they dined there on a whole grilled chicken served with chips and rice.

Friday morning the others went to the Masoleum but we stayed in the hotel doing admin, blogging and resting. When the men left to fetch visas from the embassies, the two ladies went to have a bite at that place which they searched for but did not find a few days earlier – Ty Potes. Quaint place with an inner garden serving ‘French-style’ food. They chose a ‘galette bretonne’ with salmon that was delicious and quite enough for two. 

The visa outing seems to have been quite successful. They rested for a while longer and then it was suddenly imperative to get the tickets for tomorrow’s train trip today. Hence a walk to the ‘gare de Rabat Ville’. It was not a long walk, it did feel longer when we were loaded a few days ago!

Here again, they managed to secure a whole compartment to themselves.

On the way back to the hotel, the group wanted to try Ty Potes for a drink, so we stopped there. The place was empty and we managed to get a nice place in the garden. It was very pleasant and in spite of the late afternoon hour there were no mosquitoes. After this we walked back to the hotel with us buying cheese and flat bread at the local supermarket and the others got roast chicken with all the trimmings at some other place.

The hotel staff agreed to let them have this feast in the breakfast room of the hotel. It was a very varied meal with olives, juice, mayonnaise, mustard, rice etc.

Fortunately, the next day, when we got the bell boy to get taxis for us, we did not have long to wait. He was all smiles when we gave him a generous tip before we left, he was waving at us, wishing us to have a good trip. Great change to his demeanour when we first asked him very politely to get 3 taxis for us.

 

Roaming Tangiers

It was settled, the next day we would move to Rabat and start procedures for visas while waiting for the ship to dock in Tangiers and the strike to end.

View from roof top

That evening we went walkabout again through the old town where Coen found a place called ‘Les Passengers de Tanger’ found on the top of one of the old buildings. It was relatively more expensive than the other places but the view of the ‘place’ and start of the old town was quite something. They sat having some drinks while the sun was setting.

Passagers de Tanger

We walked briefly through the small market and bought some olives for the train trip. The stalls were varied, some selling the local breads, some dates, some vegetables, all very colourful. The olive stall was quite a sight: mult-icoloured olives in brine, in spices, in herbs etc….

Restaurant Hamadi

For dinner they decided to check out an old place they found the day before, Restaurant Hamadi. This was also on the top floor of an old building. The ground floor was occupied by a bank and one had to really find the entrance to the restaurant – it was in the small side road. It was set up to look like inside of the big nomad tents but there were chairs, we did not have to sit on carpets. The menu was not extensive but it was quite typical local food. Unfortunately the mechoui was off the menu that day, so they chose to share a ‘pastilla’, couscous with chicken and couscous with lamb, while two of them chose the harira. It was ample and tasty, the service was good and there were also some musicians playing live for us.

Dis Mos Mielies!

The walk back to the hotel was as animated as the other evenings: lots of people, whole families and vagrants walking about, enjoying themselves. We also stopped by a ‘mielie’ seller to negotiate for two boiled cobs. We again passed by this fascinating stall with slabs of nougats on it. 

Nougat 

It was past 22h00 by the time they got to the hotel.

Streets at night

The next morning, after breakfast, checking out and gathering the multitude of luggage, we caught the taxis to the station. The one taxi agreed to check on the meter to charge us whereas the rest of them got into a ‘grand taxi’ with the rest of the luggage.

We got a compartment all to ourselves and managed to stack all that luggage in there. There was more than an hour’s wait and they allowed us to wait in a waiting room for a bit. Then we had a long walk to the front of the train to the compartment that was ours for a few hours. It was a dry and sunny day and they just sat in the train, watching the scenery go by.

Travelling First Class - train

Tangier 20 June

Getting no joy from the Safmarine people of Casablanca and even less from Crown Logistics, they decided to go to Tangiers and get things done from there. So, early, that Saturday, we hopped onto the morning train with all the luggage. They booked first class and had enough space to put all their things in a 6-seater compartment.

Train ride

It was a comfortable journey and the scenery just passed by: small towns, bigger ones with loads of apartments and farmlands with apple, citrus and olive orchards mostly. There were maize and sunflower plantations too. It did not look as orderly as the plantations in South Africa. Here, agriculture seems to be labour intensive and more ‘manual’.

It was a five hour trip. We reached Tangiers early afternoon and had to haggle for a taxi to take us some 6 km up the main road to our hotel. We checked in and then we left to walk to the ‘passenger’ port to see where we pick up the others the  next day, then we did a ‘reconnaissance’ to find out where to eat that evening. The place was pretty empty, it was Saturday afternoon.

However, after a bit of rest, they decided that it was time to investigate the eateries and by then there were loads of people on the streets, women, children. It was still daylight at 19h30 but temperatures were certainly cooler. We stopped at a fish place and ordered a fish platter for two. There came a huge platter with calamari, soles, small pink prawns and a whole grilled fish on a bed of sliced cabbages. It was certainly a very generous serving. It was fresh, moderately tasty. The prawns were small and not deveined. The prawns were sweet and did not have the grit feeling you get when they are not deveined.

Harira

The movement of people by then was quite interesting. Many dropped in on the eatery where we were to have a bowl of ‘harira’ and bread and off they went, ambling along the boulevard Mohamed VI: men, women, babies, children, young, old, all sorts… the walk back to the hotel was a bit of a climb but it was interesting to see the nightlife.

The next morning, after a breakfast of olives, breads, cheese, prunes and freshly pressed orange juice, we were off on the roads. First was to find the offices of the shipper. It was Sunday but they wanted to do a ‘reconnaissance’, then disappear into the market of the old town to investigate what was of interest. It was still early despite the fact that the others said they were also taking an earlier ferry from Spain. We stopped at one of the innumerable cafés in the market for some orange juice. They did not get hassled too much, the shops were just opening.

The place is fascinating, the detail they put in the construction of these buildings, built  barely a few metres from each other. Not much tile/mosaic work is to be seen in the old town but the work, balustrades, doors, lintels, burglar bars etc was nice to see. Many of these structures date from the time when Tangiers was an international city and have been well maintained but others are in this state of decrepitude you tend to see around these parts.

Tangier ferry port

At the port we were waiting under the one palm tree where we told the others (Hans, Elismé, Mariana and Stephanus) we’d meet them. Finally, they were out and there was another haggling session with taxi’s. It was agreed that she would go in a big taxi with the masses of luggage they had and the rest of them would follow with Coen on foot.

All together!

Finally, we were all at the hotel. Booking in was fairly simple, they had room for everyone. After a bit of freshening up, they all went out to check the lay of the land, have a bite, buy sim cards and they even got ‘dongles’ for 24 hours internet connection.

Cakes and more cakes

We went to investigate a ‘patisserie’ they saw the evening before. It was a well-appointed shop, its front part made in intricate mosaic and inside with piles and piles of fascinating cakes. They purchased some for tea: cornes de gazelle, sesame bites, roasted almond bites, baklava types with orange blossom water. They had those in the hotel’s garden, with mint tea. With a couple of hours for napping, we were out again to explore and find a place to eat.

Tangier Medina

On the way down into the old town, we were accosted by a guy who claimed that he was not a guide but worked at the hotel and only wanted to show us the way. In the end, he got cross because we seemed to know what we were doing and thanked him for his help and sent him off. By then he was saying that he knew a good restaurant with belly dancing and all.

Spices

More spices

Roaming the old town by night was a different feeling again. There were people everywhere. They looked in on a spice shop which they had found earlier. It had the most fascinating stuff: cinnamon, cumin, run of the mill spices but also argan oil for cooking as well as a different one for the face and body and some deer horns as well. There was mined salt and some fascinating looking plants too. More investigation should go into this.

I was tired and she was also feeling weak in the feet. We only felt all this when we got back to the rooms.

The next morning, after breakfast, they went off to the Safmarine offices to meet the people who would tell them whether or not the cars can be delivered in Tangiers or in Casablanca. We had to wait a bit for the right person to come in and when he did, he explained in detail what had to be done in order to have the cars discharged in Tangiers.

Negotiations with SAFMAINE

After that there were a few hours of admin work to be done: letters to write and sign, deliver, shippers to be phoned and such. In the midst of all this, they were to learn that the ship was late leaving Dakar already and did not make the connection to Tangiers when they were expecting it. Then the Tangiers docks were on strike too. So, they have to devise a plan C and eventually D.

 In the meantime we had walked back to the patisserie to order ‘bastilla’ but walked out because they were charging extortionist prices at that place. Lunch, then was, again schwarma and chips.

Casablanca 17 June 2011

Today, they decided, whilst, they were there, might as well visit that mosque – the modern one built at the waterfront named after the late king Hassan II. It was a long walk from the hotel and, stupidly, she chose to go in the ‘ballerines’.

The town was just waking up when they passed and shopkeepers were throwing buckets of water on their piece of pavement, in a show of washing it. The place was rather smelly. They chose not to tackle the maze of the ‘old town’, a fortified part which must have been the original Casablanca. So, they went round the fortification which was a slightly longer route to the water front.

By the time they reached the area where the future marina development will be, the soles of her feet were rather raw but they ploughed on. A ‘petit taxi’ stopped to offer to take them but they chose to walk the rest of the way. The mosque was already in sight. The taxi driver said that it was closed, it was Friday.

 

It was interesting to see that such work can still be done in this day and age. The mosaic work was intricate, colourful and well spaced so as not to be too overwhelming. The doors of the mosque were gigantic and all in style with the place. It was not in the general manner of mosques that they are used to – must be Moroccan architecture. The whole place was covered with marble.

 

The ‘parvis’ of the mosque is well laid out if not a bit sterile, with a library on the one side and exhibition halls on the other, palm gardens and some water works. Nothing to compare with the palaces in India but still… there were quite a few youngsters who were sitting or lying on rugs around the covered pathways, studying.

On their walk back, they stopped for the usual freshly pressed orange juice. This one was expensive. It was not even on the waterfront but close to the mosque. Further towards the hotel, they stopped for a shwarma and juice. The food was good and copious at ‘Romano’ restaurant – a fancily decorated place with the mods and cons of a ‘sports bar’. However, this shwarma was not as tasty as that of the Mandarine or Noura of Brazzaville.

 

Back at the hotel she inspected her feet which had, by then, 4 blisters. A few hours of R & R and they were out searching for couscous for dinner. In a small place not far, they found a generous serving of couscous which they shared between the two of them. The meat, however, was a bit scarce in this ‘couscous viande’. The hotel restaurant did not seem to have typical Moroccan food.

It is a great puzzle how the place could be so dirty. Chewing gum is stuck to pavements and look like polka dots, they are so regular. That is wherever there are any paving left. It is surprising for a town that boasts to be coastal and touristy, that it could be like that. Let us not mention the smell now.

It is an African city but somehow, because of its history and the culture of the people, one would have expected something else. Not this decrepitude. Many of the places, the hotel included, seem to have been built with taste and quite a bit of investment and then allowed to go into decay, neglect or something. The town is the same.

It is true too that being next to the sea and also surrounded by desert it might be difficult to keep the dust at bay. But his place has not been through war in a few centuries but has this feeling of ‘falling apart’ such as one feels in Brazzaville in the mid 2000’s, 7 years after the war.

There is infrastructure work going on, they are putting rails in town maybe for a tramway service, there are road works outside town and they were even cutting the grass/weeds on the railway tracks. But one still wonders if they have municipal taxes and where the money goes if not for the improvement of the place. 

Casablanca!

16/06/2011

The housesitter was briefed, the rented car was packed, last minute payments were done, I was worn around thick army socks and we were out of Pretoria by 10h10 on the 15^th. The road to the airport was free flowing and we got there a little after 11, our check-in counters were not open yet! From where we dropped the rented car, we practically had to walk to the other end of the airport to find the Qatar Airways check in counters.

We were checked through, all the way to Casablanca; the flight to Doha was not full  - it was very pleasant, the crew was efficient, we also had the row to ourselves. We landed in Doha at 11h40 in the night but the airport was buzzing with activity. I find that it is not as ‘organised’ as the Dubai airport and the duty free shopping is about a tenth the size as the one in Dubai’s airport. Coen did not find all the electronic gadgets he wanted, nor any non-branded sunglasses either.

Finally at 01h05 in the morning, we borded the plane to Casablanca, it did a stop in Tunis too. This flight was rather noisy, with little children all around. But they managed to put in some hours of rest when the lights were dimmed after dinner. In the morning, a rather copious breakfast was served by the same crew who had the same efficiency and smiles as they did when they started the flight.

Flying over Morocco showed a variety of scenery: fields and fields or culture, mountains with forests and desert as well, not forgetting the coast line. It was 32C in Casablanca and Zouhair, the taxi driver was waiting for us sign in hand. We had, by then, drawn some local money and bought a sim card with no hassles whatsoever.

They had agreed to go look for the shipper first and find out if the cars cannot be cleared in Tangiers 7 days earlier than the date given to them. The address given for the shippers was wrong and Zouhair had problems finding the place until we phoned them to ask exactly where they were.

After the shippers Zouhair took us to a small souk near the palace where a ‘bastilla’ was ordered. This is a famous ‘pie’ made of pastry on the outside and a mixture of nuts, raisins, chicken, honey, cinnamon on the inside. While waiting for this creation to be ready we visited the craft market. It was a nice area, quiet compared to the bustle and chaos of city centre. It seemed to have no traffic compared to the city’s roads.

The shops are fully of wonderous wares all very nice and colourful: brass lampshades, tagines, bowls, leatherware, fabrics, furniture and shoes. They talked to the shopkeepers but did not buy anything. They sat eating a pain au chocolat while having tea and freshly pressed orange juice at a café in the souk. It seemed very peaceful after having struggled through the traffic of town to look for the shippers.

Finally we got dropped at the hotel and checked in. The room was not ready and when it was, it stank of bleach and the aircon was not working. So we all got moved to another room which worked better and did not reek of bleach. After sampling the bastilla and a short nap, they left me in the hotel and went walkabout in the city.

I am told that they passed some of the filthiest places. It was not as if it was in some depressed suburb either, this is just perpendicular to one of the main roads. It was rather disgusting,, not even in Bombay had they encountered such garbage. It compares to some of the most ‘laissé pour compte’ areas of Brazzaville.

At the station they enquired about trains to Tangiers and then walked back to the hotel which a stop to have freshly pressed orange juice and buy water. By then it was past 18h00 and the streets around the hotel were bustling with shoppers who looked mainly like housewives.

By 20h00 the activities subsided and the area went quiet.

Last preparations

Hey, check the look! Yes, the hair is all gone, or most of the long parts. She thinks it will be easier to maintain this way. Mind you, she has lived with hair this long for most of her teens, so, it should not be too difficult to get used to.  He thinks he is not into boys….

They are getting into North Africa in summer, so the hair should be more practical whichever way. With the months on the road, it will surely grow quite a bit.

They leave tomorrow morning from the house, to the airport. Early afternoon the first flight to Doha and after a short transit onto another flight to Casablanca. So, watch the space, more to follow.

In the meantime the cars are in Dakar now, leaving tomorrow for Spain, then Tangier, and then a week later, for Casablanca. Looks like we will try to intercept them in Tangier….