To beat the fellow tourists staying in our hotel, to the only shower, we were up super early – a groggy 6.30. Djalma was as fresh as a daisy because he fell asleep so early but I was really grumpy. We made it out the hotel and back to the train station after stopping off at a posh bakery for some amazing fried pancakes with meat in, delicious!
The train into Casablanca took about an hour and we slept most of the way. Arriving on the edge of town and feeling sleepy, we made our way into the Medina and wandered round looking for a place to sit and vegetate. After a coffee and a tasteless sandwich we mooched through town slowly, stopping in gardens and relaxing – heaving round backpacks is serious business and not that pleasant in the heat.
 |
| From Casablanca, Morocco |
As there isn't that much tourism to do in Casablanca we headed for its one (and I'm sure, only) claim to fame – the third largest Mosque in the world and one of only two working mosques which admits non-muslims in Morocco. If there is one thing I don't like about Mosques, and there is only one – most of them seem nice enough and definitely beautiful, it's that they exclude people who don't conform to their religious ideals. In England and most other countries, it doesn't matter who you are or what you believe in, you can enter any place of worship as long as you are respectful and decently clothed. I think it is so wrong to have this exclusion of non or different believers from a church, especially when most of the ideas and concept mirrors Christianity – in terms of being good, nice to each other and usually forgiving. How can a church or mosque refuse entry and still be accepting of others?!
 |
| From Casablanca, Morocco |
Anyway, once we got to the mosque we decided to put the extortionate ticket money to much better use than the 45 minute guided tour two 120dirham tickets would have bought us, and put it aside to invest in some expensive little beers instead.
Prior to today we've only had three beers each, when we have managed to find an outlet for booze the sin tax is so heavy that we can't afford more than one each, if any. The unavailability of beer or any kind of alcohol (Berber whisky doesn't count because it's only tea) has made me want it even more – we've been dying for a drink for a while now and I am happy, no, ecstatic, to report that I am writing this while on my SECOND beer. Heaven... I'm in heaven! We haven't missed it that much day to day, I've only really noticed how much I've wanted one when I haven't been able to have it and the knowledge in the back of my mind that we can't have it any time or anywhere, like in Russia! has made me want it all the more. But oh, when that honey coloured liquid slides down my throat, the pleasure. What a feeling!
Casablanca feels much more connected to modern reality, as did Rabat. Both cities are big and spacious but Casablanca is like a smaller dirtier London and is all the more reassuring for it. Travelling in many of the cities that we have done, places like Fez, Meknès, Marrakesh, Essaouira and to some extent the Desert, feels like we've not only landed in a completely alien culture and environment but also time travelled back a hundred years or so.
After finishing those delicious beers we headed to the train station to go to the airport. I hope my lasting memory of Morocco will be of the little girl (about three years old) who gave me a tiny little kiss on the cheek after her mum saw me smiling and sent her over. It put the biggest smile on my face and made me go all gooey – Djalma give me some babies of my own!
No comments:
Post a Comment