Casablanca. Here's lookin' at you, kid!

Casablanca.

The word conjures up images of Humphrey Bogart and romance. But that's not exactly what you'll find here. Instead, Casablanca is Morocco's largest city and its commercial and industrial hub. It's also home to the awe-inspiring Hassan II mosque. This is, to date, the most impressive religious structure we have seen (even surpassing the Vatican). But we're not there yet -- in fact, the story hasn't even begun!

After arriving from Paris, we quickly (and easily) caught the train from the Casablanca airport to downtown (35DH/$4.38 per person) and pushed ourselves past the annoying taxi drivers offering rides and hotels. We checked into Hotel Terminus, which was within eye-sight of the train station. 160DH ($20) got us a stuffy room (see video) where we dropped off our bags. Then we set out to see the magnificent Hassan II mosque. We hailed a taxi and were exposed to our first (but not at all last) rip-off as the driver refused to use his meter, explaining that the ride was all the way across town and would only cost 50DH ($6.25). Because this sounded reasonable and we were exhausted from a day of travel, we got in and he weaved through the traffic, narrowly avoiding a few accidents (and heart attacks).

Then we arrived. WOW. No expense was spared in the construction of this colossal beast. It has the world's largest minaret and is brilliantly patterned with tile work and detailed carvings. It's also, surprisingly, open to non-muslims. But we missed the last tour and would only be able to feast upon the visual delights outside while peering into open doors. We soaked in as much as we could as we strolled around the large square surrounding the mosque. This seemed to be what nearly everyone else that wasn't trying to sell us something was doing too.

We then headed into the medina, the old city of Casablanca, to wander the streets. There weren't any tourists in this area, and, judging from the expressions on people's faces, we highly doubt that the locals see tourists in this area often. Our feelings of being out-of-place were magnified when some women sitting in a dark and dirty corner sewing dresses began yelling "vacation" at us. Indeed, as we looked around, almost everyone was staring at us, curiously wondering what in the world we were doing there. Laure was very anxious. She felt scared as we wandered through unwelcoming streets. It was overcrowded, dirty, smelly and very overwhelming. We continued to explore anyway and made our way through the busy crowd. We observed little shops filled with gorgeous and colorful wedding gowns, others with leather shoes, pastries, and more. We saw busy carts in the middle of the street serving a popular dish: snail stew. The cart was covered with these creatures and their shells (mounds of them!). We were invited to try it by a lady who shouted "viens manger!" (come eat!) but decided to err on the side of safety-- David not being much of a fun guy when he has dysentery. :)

With the sun setting, we decided to head back to the hotel. So we caught a taxi which, by meter, cost 15DH ($1.88), less than a third of the price of getting here. GRRR. We ate dinner next to the hotel: pizza and a harira soup (traditional, thick spiced soup of vegetables) for 40DH ($5) before calling it quits for the day. Once in the hotel room, we laid down in our uncomfortable and dusty room and eventually got to sleep in spite of the blaring Arabic music flooding our room from somewhere outside our prison-like window (see photo).

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