Casablanca

As we sailed through the Straits of Gibraltar last night we could see lights on the horizon from both southern Spain and northern Africa. Pretty cool. I’m not sure what I was expecting in Morocco but I think I was a bit surprised. As soon as we disembarked we passed a checkpoint with guards. Subconsciously I noted but it really did not register until later in the day when we passed other groups of three, armed militia. If they were there to promote a feeling of safety, they achieved just the opposite—I had the distinct feeling that this was not somewhere I would be comfortable walking alone.

A tour of Hassan II Mosque, the third largest mosque in the world, located on the coast was our first stop of the day. We passed squalor and poverty on the most direct route to this amazing structure. The juxtaposition of the two was unsettling. Built in a mere six years, completed in 1993 the mosque has accommodated 105,000 worshippers at a time.

Our next stop was Rick’s Café. To say we did. Humphrey and Ingrid were missing but the ambiance (including the air that didn’t move) was spot on. Jody & Pam bugged out and headed back to the ship while Debye, Greg and I went in searcharch of the famous Marche Central. Our search was circuitous and included a quick pass through Cathedral du Sacre Coeur, a near-miss brush with some shady characters and finally success. There were alleys and nooks and crannies stuffed with food, fabric, rugs, spices—we even saw a man on a bicycle selling goat heads and camel feet! After about three hours of negotiating bargains in the market we headed back to the ship getting drenched in an early evening rain shower.