Goodbye (and good riddance) Marrakech, Bonjour Rabat

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After another near death experience in a Taxi (this time in a smaller one with no seatbelts) I arrived at the ultra-modern train station (complete with glorious air conditioning) and got on the next train to Rabat, the capital. There were some good moments in Marrakech, but for the most part I was very glad to see it slowly disappear through the windows of the train. A hugely over-rated tourist trap full of unpleasant touts, I was looking forward to Rabat which from what I had read, was the antithesis of such a place.

As soon as I walked out of the station in Rabat I knew I liked the place. It might sound strange to say, but it has never been so nice to be ignored by people. It immediately struck me as having a very Western European feel, which is unsurprising given that like many of the larger places in Morocco, the newer parts of town were built by the French back in the colonial days. Grand, white buildings where are lined along wide, tree-lined avenues. A quick 2 minute walk across one such avenue and I'd found myself a place to stay, the Hotel Central, a bargain at only £7 for a single room to myself. At that price, I didn't mind the slightly dilapidated feel of the place, and the moderate infestation of ants. I'd thoroughly recommend it to any shoestringers heading to Rabat.

Fortunately, the World Cup seemed to be pretty big in Morocco despite the country's team not qualifying, and it was easy to find somewhere to watch the England match. I must stress I'm really not bothered about football, but it was nice to have something a little similar to experience to help subside my growing feeling of homesickness induced by solo travel. After the match I spent the rest of afternoon and evening exploring Rabat's Medina and seafront. Exploring Rabat was a joy in comparsion to Marrakech, I found myself blissfully ignored and could roam the streets at my own pace. The medina was not the intriguing, ancient place as in Marrakech, Rabat's is 'only' a few hundred years old, and is more bootlegged dvds and fake t-shirts than traditional crafts. It was nonetheless a great place to wander, sauntering down side streets resulted in the discovery of the now familiar legions of stray cats, cows legs and other chunks of meat dangling from shop windows. I finished the day with a walk along the seafront, looking out to the vast expanse that is the Atlantic.

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