From Marrakech back to Rabat. Again

---

I've lost track of what day it is. It's been over 3 weeks because we passed the weekend in Marrakech so I guess we're at Day...22?

I haven't much to write about the city and no photos apart from our night out - and they're not for public viewing! I spent the first of our four nights at the lovely campsite - and though the peacocks were indeed lovely, their wake up call was anything but - and then headed into the city centre and stayed at a riad only minutes from the bustling square. Three of us shared a room and revelled in the fact that it had a proper clean toilet and a shower only feet away! I did wander around the square but found the chained monkeys depressing and even worse, the terrified squirrel tied up near the snakes. I didn't stick around to see what happened to it. I grabbed Jareb and we walked into the medina; he on a mission to find flip flops for his size 45 feet and almost failing until the guy chased after us through the winding streets and agreed to our price. I received a marriage proposal with a dowry consisting of 3,000 camels, two Ferraris and a house in Florida (which we quickly swapped to a house in Australia). Seeing as dad's property isn't equipped for that amount of camels, I graciously thanked him and refused, deciding to omit the fact that I'd like to marry someone who has a full set of teeth...
We veered off the busy main street onto a side street and got a few kicks in a kids' football game before continuing on our way, not at first realising that we had a shadow. A boy who looked to be in his teens starting chatting to us in a mix of Arabic and French and not wanting a guide (or really, not wanting to pay for a guide), we tried to politely refuse him. Then I realised he was inviting us to his house for tea! And that is how we found ourselves at the end of a dead end lane way, ducking into a door and in his family's home. His mother was an adorable elderly woman wearing thick glasses and smiling constantly, occasionally hiding shyly behind her son seated next to her. We had scared off an older boy but he soon reappeared at our urging and with his friend, joined us for tea and fresh bread that our new friend had run out to buy. Embarrassingly enough, his name wasn't one that I could remember and I wished I had written it down. His brother, Youseff is head of the family at only 17 years old because their father has passed away. In his last year of secondary school, his English was excellent and obviously handy as his brother's excited chatter was hard to understand! Their house was small; their living room doubling as their bedroom with thick foam blocks lining the three walls and blankets neatly folded up at the end of each. A gas cooker sat in the hall next to a bicycle and a small cabinet was built into the wall. There were stairs leading upstairs but I'm not sure what is up there. I shared the figs and apricots I'd bought earlier and we passed an enjoyable hour or so until we heard the call to prayer and left so Youseff could pray.
That night we dressed up in our finest (which meant our cleanest clothes and hiking sandals for most) and went in search of a bar that had music and alcohol - the latter being somewhat difficult to find. We found both at African Chic and although the prices were steep, we had a thoroughly enjoyable night, followed by kebabs at 3am. As you do.
The following day was a relaxing one spent eating, reading and information gathering on our new route around Mali. Then, with a backpack full of freshly laundered clothes, we piled into the minibus back to the campsite and were soon on the road to Rabat for an unexpected second time for visas. We arrived much later than I think anyone expected but it's no one's fault and after putting up tents with head torches, it was off to a nearby restaurant for dinner that Suse had organised. I wasn't hungry and decided to skip it, heading straight to bed.
Monday morning we Aussies were up bright and early to apply for our visas to Senegal being the only ones of our group to require one. The six of us piled into a grand taxi for the trip to the embassy on the other side of Rabat only to be told upon arrival that we needed to apply in Casablanca! Steph and I then went in search of the Gambian embassy to pick up the paperwork for the Americans who need a visa and later found out that not only had it moved, it had moved to Madrid! A taxi willing to drive us the hour or so to Casa arrived and after speaking to a woman who spoke excellent English, we squished in for the journey. Having some of the tallest people on the trip in that car made for a rather uncomfortable trip; Steph and I sharing the front seat of the taxi. We were all slightly impatient by the time we hit the outskirts of the town, most of us having little or no feeling in at least one area of our bodies so it was hard to keep quiet when we realised the taxi driver had no idea where the embassy was. Thankfully, a local taxi driver he asked for directions motioned for us to follow him and he led us straight there. After tumbling out of the car in front of the building, my legs failed to work properly when one of my passport photos flew off! We filed inside quietly though and were greeted by one of the tallest, thinnest men I've seen who told us there was no land visas to be had until Mauritania, only visas for those arriving by air. We were all in shock, what a blow. Trying to explain that we were sent by the Rabat office fell on deaf ears and we climbed back into the taxi, defeated. Back to Rabat it was and it was no more comfortable that the previous ride but arriving at the Guinean embassy, we were met with huge smiles and beautifully dressed people, thrilled to hear we were going to their country!
---------
Thursday
Day 26

I heard the rain at 5am this morning but must've dozed off again as I woke with my 7:30 alarm. After flicking the earwigs from the outside of my tent again (seems they're not overly keen on the rain and passed their night climbing as high as they could into the crevices of the tent) and stumbling out half dressed, I managed to get it together in time for a bit of breakfast before we left for the Ivory Coast embassy. Having received our passports back from the Guinean embassy the day before and filling out paperwork and paying online for this one, we were feeling pretty confident that we'd have our visas by the end of the day and be on our way south in the morning. Once again, we were jumping the gun with assumptions and after we'd all had our interviews (seriously, getting into Ivory Coast is almost as much trouble as getting into America. We were finger printed, had digital photos taken to go with the two passport photos we were already providing and then Suse had to answer questions about us), we sat in the waiting room amusing ourselves until Suse returned telling us it took two business days. Boo. To top it off, it's the Easter weekend and Monday was a holiday. There was nothing we could do. Tuesday it was.
Three of us took a petit taxi into the centre and ran some errands before walking to the bus stop, finding others along the way. On the bus, it was one of those moments that I realise how lucky I am to be born in Oz. Corny, yes, but when you watch elderly people climbing onto a bus on all fours (the step being so high that even I had a bit of trouble with my knee) and the driver having no mirrors so he takes off, shutting the door after he's already begun to move...well, yeah. The five of us helped the locals get them up and into our seats and soon after, two men gave Britt and I their seats. I thought they were getting off the bus but no, they stood for quite some time, waving away my thanks once I'd noticed. It was a nice moment.
-----------
Friday
Day 27

We stayed in Rabat on the off chance that our visas would be ready but no such luck. It rained intermittently during the day but by lunch time it had pretty much cleared up. A group of us played cards for the better part of the day, sitting on the camp chairs drinking red wine and telling stories. Toni and I went for a stroll to the next town and then followed the cliffs that overlooked the ocean to the lighthouse. We sat in comfortable silence watching the waves roll in and crash against the rocks before heading back to the campsite along the beach. Teenage boys played soccer on the wet sand close to the water's edge, two policemen walked their horses in the softer sand and stray dogs lay sleeping in the sun. On the boardwalk, young couples sat with their knees touching, heads down, evenly spaced along the path from each other while others sat at the plastic chairs and table on the rocky ground with glass bottles of Coke and Sprite. We stopped at the cafe opposite the campsite for tea and juice before returning for dinner and an early night, everyone being ready to leave Rabat the next morning.

---

Photos

Prettiest alarm clock there is!
Peacocks roamed the campsite

The main square in Marrakech
Stall owners are setting up for the evening madness

Escargots
Our favourite stall owner selling escargots in a beef broth. All good until I thought about it...

Beautiful riad
where we stayed for the three nights we were in town

Hair wash day!
Freezing cold water but the wash only cost me one beer!

Daily workout
Kicking the soccer ball about while waiting for word on visas

Mother Nature at her best
Toni and I sat and watched the waves crash on the rocks for quite a while