Roads and Tales

8 Hours to Live a Dream

I have only one day to spend at Casablanca
As the taxi driver drops me in front of Hassan II Mosque I immediately feel the salt scent from the Atlantic, and late-November’s breeze gives wings to my hair. As if the sight of the third largest mosque in the world wouldn’t be enough to cover my skin with goose bumps!
The day is cloudy and the sea spray covers the base of the magnificent 689ft. ivory-green minaret with a mysterious veil. Impressive multi-colored patterns surround iron doors that are large enough to fit the faith of 25,000 worshipers and as I stand on front of it I can’t help but thinking that’s a home worth of a God indeed.
I cross the kaleidoscopic marbled floor on the great square, surrounded by numerous handcrafted arcades and then finally get the panoramic view of the minaret’s full length. My feet refuse to continue the rush and I find myself stunned at the powerful beauty of the entire construction. The wind is so strong now it seems to be whispering to me every prayer ever sung in that holy place and as I silently join my own I feel tears rising to my eyes.
My perception of time gets mixed with colors, carved details, arabesques, and next thing I know, I’m back at the taxi and the driver is happily chatting about local curiosities. I can hardly listen to his words though, because my mind is playing a beautiful piano song and an old smooth voice is singing a line to my memories: “you must remember this”.
He takes me through a labyrinth of white houses and green-triangular roofs, government palaces and even into the ancient walls of the Old Medina for some extraordinary food and variety of smells and sensations.
By the end the day, the guide-driver who did the miracle of showing me Casablanca’s best experiences in 8 hours brings me back to the ship, where I must work tonight until the next destination. He drives away and disappears on a corner, completely unknowing of how he changed my life.