In Rome I commented on my outstanding language skills and
now feel compelled to retract that statement. After crossing the top of Africa
I landed in Casablanca airport having done little to no homework on the
place. Aside from Moroccan Arabic the
next most common language used through Casablanca is French. After being gastronomically
fluent in Italian my poor little brain was struggling with jumping straight
into French. When the immigration
officer said bonjour I replied with bonjorno and handed over an Australian
passport much to his confusion. When
people gave me change I said grazie or prego. Now it is time to leave and I
have just started to find my French.
Morocco as a country is struggling for me after coming from
Italy. Casablanca is a sprawled city of almost 4 million people on the western
coast of Morocco. The nicest part of Casablanca (like most cities) is the
beachside suburb of Ain Din which just happens to be where I based myself. The
main road running along the beach is an eclectic mix of hotels, restaurants and
bars all in a general state of disrepair.
I spent the first day exploring the Corniche area along the
beach and ate at a local restaurant (lamb terrene). Winter obviously isn’t the
best time to visit any beachside area but Casablanca seems to get the full ire
of the Atlantic Ocean during winter. The see is angry like an old man trying to
return cold soup. The waves are constantly rolling in as huge grey masses crashing
into the breakwater.
The following day I walked in the other direction towards
the port area and after an hour I reached the Hassan II Mosque. This impressive
building includes a 200 meter minaret tower but when compared to the Grand
Mosque in Abu Dhabi it just doesn’t stack up.
On my final day I checked out a local souk (market) and
wandered around the old medina before stopping for lunch as Rick’s Café.. you
know Rick’s café right ?? from the movie… work with me people – Casablanca.
Anyway it is a reproduction of the movie right down to piano player tapping out
‘As time goes by’.
On a disturbing side note. I watched my first anti-terrorism
ad on television. Similar to the Australian drink driving ads which aim to show
graphic images in an attempt to scare people. Fair to say I didn’t need to see
the realistic effects of a car bomb in the city.
A friend told me that he visited Morocco recently and in his
view Casablanca was the pick of spots, so either Pettica has no idea (possible)
or Rabat, Marrakesh and Fez must really suck camels bal…well you get the
picture.
In short Casablanca has been a little disappointing. Perhaps
it is because I have come to a beachside location during winter or perhaps it
is because I loved Rome so much or perhaps it is just a crappy place.. I am
glad I came and I saw a little bit of Morocco but I think it fair to say I won’t
be returning.
Don’t bother playing it again Sam…
