We have never been to Morocco – we had lots of ideas of what it might be like, had read many stories, but we didn’t expect what we got…
We had been looking forward to breaking out the tent again after many weeks in the casita and house sitting and had imagined warm winter sun gently caressing Chubby Coleman, our big old tent left long under wraps.
This was the picture in our heads:
What we got was torrential rain, lightening and thunder. We stayed two nights at our first camp, thinking it would blow over, then packed up between rain clouds and headed south – to the sun, right? Nope. More days of torrential rain, damp tent and to top it all – two punctured airbeds and a dead computer. Nothing exciting or exotic about any of that! Moulay Bousleham is next to a lagoon, which fills with migrating flamingoes in the spring, unfortunately the lagoon seemed more intent on filling the campsite during our flying visit!
Admittedly, the inexplicable giant strawberry outside the mosque did make us laugh, but even the sheep that were herded past our tent for morning and evening feeds – which we also did not expect to see – seemed unimpressed by the relentless rain.
Eventually we managed to catch a break in the rain, packed a soggy Chubby into the car and headed south again.
By the time we got to Rabat, the capital of Morocco, the rain was becoming just a memory and the ancient stones of the Rabat kasbah and necropolis glowed in the sunshine. The blue and white walls and doors of the kasbah are beautiful and worth a visit to the city for that alone.
The ancient necropolis – once a Roman settlement – on the edge of the city is a fascinating place and home to countless clacking storks, but Geoff got a stalk of a different kind – a double dose!
The Hassan Tower in the centre of the city is also a sight to see, set as it is amongst more ancient Roman ruins and guarded by elegant horsemen.
From Rabat, again we have pushed south, toward Casablanca. Is there any other city that so immediately evokes thoughts of Hollywood glamour and excitement? We turned to fellow travellers on the internet for some insider wisdom on the best places to visit. “Do Not Go To Casablanca” was the overwhelming message from almost every review we read. The only thing worth visiting is the Hassan II mosque. Built only a couple of decades ago, in just six years, to honour the dying King, it is one of the largest mosques in the world. Twenty-five thousand devotees can be housed inside and a further 75,000 outside.
It is perhaps true that the only thing worth seeing in Casablanca is the Hassan II mosque, if you are a tourist. Its sheer scale is very impressive, but we have seen more beauty in other buildings. Casablanca itself it simply a very large city – not geared for tourism or visuals feasts. Suckered by Hollywood again!
So onward and further south we have pressed, driving for most of the afternoon past donkey carts, sheep and cattle herders, shepherds, farmers and all points in between.
We landed in Essaouira – a fishing town beloved by surfers in the summer season and a rather chilled and easy place out of season. Those surf-making winds can be rough this time of year though and we had to hang on to Chubby the tent as it was buffeted every which way as we put it up. A tour around town found a wonderful local metal fabricator who, after we had stumbled through our basic French and waved our one remaining tent peg in the air, stopped what he was doing to bend and bang out twelve new heavy-duty pegs on the spot. Chubby is now tight as a drum.
With Chubby pegged down we were free to explore the sights, smells and colour of the Essaouira medina and port – what a feast for the senses!
We are beginning to settle into Moroccan life – and even Moroccan driving!
We hope to spend some weeks in this new country – exploring the deserts and mountains, coasts and oases – we hope you will come along for the ride.