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Published: June 15th 2005
Tour Hassan (Rabat)
Imagine how big it would be if it wasn't for the earthquake!They may not be the Morocco you wanna see, but still, at some point, you'll have to come over here.
In my case, I needed visas to Mauritania. Invaluable 'Africa on a Shoestring' told me to swap Fes for Rabat on a Sunday afternoon and make it to the Mauritanian Embassy as early as Monday 9am. So did I.
It was 8 something when I got off the bus and saw the big sign for the Souissi II University. It didn't look at all like an embassy! No problems! I hailed a cab and reached the CORRECT address in time to be directed to 'Casa' (Casablanca) where the visas were actually issued. Again, no problems!
I gladly went back to the city centre. There was some interesting sightseeing to be done.
Impressive Tour Hassan, built to break all Muslims' height records but half destroyed by a 1755 earthquake, affords great views of Sale, village across the river where corsairs once gathered before setting out to terrify the oceans.
Kasbah des Oudaias (fort) dominates the Atlantic tip of Rabat's Medina (old town). A few metres from there, I 'bumped into' a cemetery by the sea - was
Casablanca
To the left, the clock tower overlooks the Medina, while the tall buildings to the right testify Morocco's economical development DEATH defying NATURE or what?
In the neat and tidy Medina is Rue Souika. At its far end, the Carpet Souq (market). Markets, markets, markets everywhere. Its Morocco, for Allah's sake!!!
Midday ushered me down Avenue Mohammed V. A beautiful palm-lined boulevard housing the city's main buildings, world-class Train Station included.
A mere one hour ride separates the capital from Casablanca, the big metropolis. Trains are new, spotless and - guess what! - are equipped with air-con!
Not as charming Casa-Port Station is only a 5 minutes walk from the Medina, where I unsuccessfully tried the Youth Hostel.
PROBLEMS alert! Other hotels outside the dirty and unnattractive Old Town. All gloomy and expensive. Eventually I ended up in the cheapest and brightest one.
Unwanted helpers, veiled women, muezzins' calls, exotic spices and essences? Hard to find.
A stroll around this 5 million-people cosmopolitan port city gave me a Sao Paulo-Beograde feel. Some white, some grey art deco buildings; some wide boulevards; a busy crowd. You could smell money in the air.
Tuesday, 7am. I was out in the streets, determined to get to the Consulate on foot. 8.30am, completely lost, walking in circles. I spent the following hour stubbornly stuck to my early morning decision.
Needless to say I arrived there shattered. Luckily my 'malandragem' (that is, brazilian way) worked out and I retrieved my passport in the afternoon heat. Unfortunately a bit too late for the 2.30pm bus to Marrakesh.
An extra night in 'Casa' did give me the time I didn't want to visit the Hassan II Mosque, the second largest in the world and the only one - I suppose - with an automatic roof opener.
(By the way, does anyone know of any recent public area/monument/important thouroughfare in Morocco not named after Mohammed V or Hassan II - respectively, grandfather and father of present king Mohammed VI?)
To sweeten up my bitterness, I also took the chance to treat myself to delicious moroccan candies and fresh juices and fruits.
Let's move on to Marrakesh before you get pissed off too!!!
P.S: Thank you very much for the kind comments!!! I do hope the next journals still live up to your expectations!
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Leandro
non-member comment
Miguel, parabéns pelo travelog! Quando nos encontramos em Londres e você expôs essa idéia, eu achei que seria um barato acompanhar as suas aventuras por aqui. Seus relatos são tão bons que, ainda que sem fotos, dá para viajar por pelo Marrocos só na imaginação. Só não suma do mapa e siga os conselhos de mamãe... abraços!