We slept like a couple of dead bodies, but thoroughly enjoyed the shower in the morning. Looking out of our room we could see the Tanger railway station all lit up. We hustled out of there, and after checking out we walked right across the street to the station.
As I walked towards Tanger station I called up a song on my phone and played just a little bit of it, “Four Winds” by the band Tangier. I have liked the song since high school and remembered wondering what it would be like to visit Tangier someday. Now the city is spelled differently but here I was listening to Tangier in Tanger. It was a goofy thing to do but I like to think that my high school-aged self would have been impressed.
We entered the modern station and found our way to the high speed rail platform. We went to the boarding gate but when they saw our tickets they directed us to the first class boarding gate on the other side. Here there was a lounge with free coffee and bottled water for the premium passengers. The first class tickets were not much more expensive than the second class ones, so I thought it was totally worth it. We didn’t stay long in the lounge however, we had to walk down to the end of the train and get on the first class car. Our carriage was nearly empty, with just a handful of passengers. We ate some snacks for breakfast while the train pulled out of the station, heading along the coastline southwest towards Rabat and Casablanca.
The passenger sitting across from us suddenly had a sneezing fit while working on his laptop – after ten sneezes I was worried that there was going to be a medical stop for the train. But apparently it was normal for this guy. He kept working as normal despite spraying his sneezes through the cabin. Another passenger did his prayers in the center section between cars – laying his prayer mat across the entranceway facing Mecca.
It wouldn’t have been Morocco if there hadn’t been a delay – our high speed train stopped suddenly for about 15 minutes with an explanation only in Arabic. The train was stopped in front of a construction zone and the workers were watching us with some curiosity so it must be a little rare. Once the train restarted it wasn’t far to Casablanca, where we started this trip a week ago.
Today we were going off script a little bit. At the start of this whole trip the original plan was to arrive in Morocco at Casablanca airport (check), take the train from the airport to Casa Voyageurs station (check), then take a taxi to see the Hassan mosque. Aida had advised that we’d have very little time to do the mosque and also get to her place at a reasonable hour (she was right – even though we skipped the mosque we got to her place late), so we decided to catch the mosque on our way back through Casablanca.
So we gave up our pre-purchased express tickets to Marrakech and instead went and grabbed a taxi to see the mosque. We negotiated with a taxi driver to take us to the mosque, and he wanted to show us around all over the city. He said that he could wait for us with our suitcase to take us back to the station, but in the end we thought it better not to be separated from our luggage as there were plenty of taxis around. It was the right call as we found out later.
The pretty banged up taxi got us to the mosque via some undercity tunnels, and seeing the mosque in its position on the coast was really impressive. Even though it was a cloudy day it was a beautiful sight. The driver let us off, we paid him 100 MAD, and he drove off (a little unhappily).
It turned out that we needed tickets to enter the grounds around the mosque. I didn’t really want to go inside, but only to get close enough to see the tile work on the exterior. But we still needed tickets. Inside the ticket office it was a total madhouse. Chaotic lines, broken ticket machines, nobody knew what line leads to where, group tours standing around inside waiting for their guide to buy tickets. As we got closer one staff member tried to make it easier by announcing that this line is for cash and that line is for credit, instantly mixing up the two existing lines into a free-for-all.
To make a long story short it took a long time to get our tickets, and I was glad that we weren’t rushed thinking about our taxi driver outside waiting for us (and raising his prices). We left our suitcase with a ticket guy who kept talking with other visitors while holding our suitcase – at one point leaving our bag behind – so I had to go back and guide him over to the suitcase storage area.
But finally we could take our time and enjoy seeing the mosque, which was just as impressive up close. We also had a chance to look out across the ocean – what a great location. I walked around taking pictures of tiles, while Kuniko patiently indulged my interest. Around one side of the mosque they had set up some gates and rope – behind that was perhaps my favorite tile design yet – I managed a picture of it but I couldn’t get very close.
I’m glad we made the stop here – it was costing us a bit of time and money, but totally worth it in the end. We picked up our suitcase (we just grabbed it – no staff available to return it to us) and then negotiated with a taxi driver to take us back to the station. He charged 20 MAD more than the guy who brought us here, and his car was unbelievably more crappy than the previous one. The passenger seat had the headrest torn off and I saw that the odometer had 933,000 km on it. That can’t be right, can it?
Back at the station we had to figure out the best way to get to Marrakech. There were a lot of trains running – and the ticket machine’s next available tickets on first class had us waiting two and half hours. There was an earlier train but first class was sold out – we waiting in line to confirm that second class tickets were reserved seats. The staff said they were, so we took the earlier train out – it was a good decision.
The train arrived (only a few minutes late) and there were mostly women in our second class compartment. The later next to me was speaking to her friend in English quietly, but got embarrassed about saying something and left to explain it in privacy.
The ride to Marrakech was on a regular train – the high speed line hasn’t been extended that far yet. The scenery was empty desert most of the way, with just a few farms. I was sad to see so much trash spread out everywhere, but there were also scenes of beauty with mountains in the distance or the occasional cliffs overhead. Mostly I read my book, and Kuniko and I shared snacks, water and cough drops across the aisle to each other.
After two and a half hours we arrived in Marrakech, at another very modern station. We walked through the station and found our hotel, practically across the street. Our hotel was very clean and modern, but actually sort of Islamic-modern. The hallways and corridors had a sort of empty feeling – we were trying to put our finger on it but couldn’t. But our room was very comfortable – and it looked out over a big swimming pool in the center of the hotel. On the ceiling was a sticker that pointed to the direction of Mecca so we could pray pointed in the right direction – nice. There was also a towel warmer/drying rack which came in handy for a little hotel bathroom laundry session.
We struck out to check out the town, and started with a wine shop that Kuniko had found online. It looked much better on Google maps, but I was definitely interested in trying more Moroccan wines. Maybe somewhere else…
The area we were walking through really reminded us of Bangkok – the way the buildings were constructed and the chaotic mess of the sidewalks and streets. From the wine shop we walked to our target restaurant, called Azalai Urban Souk. The atmosphere was cozy and a little stylish, they spoke English and were super-friendly, and they were serving food even at 4 pm which can be weird time to eat for most. I liked the chill vibes in this restaurant, and their food was really good. We had a starter of smoked eggplant with mango and goat cheese and crispy chickpeas. We also had a beef tajine – the staff burned the lid off the tajine and then poured the cooked meat and gravy through the burned portion, together with cous cous it was so good. Also we had lentil risotto with coconut cream – delicious! With two freshly blended juices it turned out to be a great meal.
After our meal we went shopping, hitting several markets (including Carrefour) to look for some snacks that we can bring back to Japan for our students and friends. Surprisingly we found quite a bit of stuff – so I think we will do our actual shopping tomorrow during our last day in Morrocco.
Back to the hotel we had a cocktail and some wine at the pool bar. We were still full from our meal but snacked on some tasty (but super-salty) olives while we sipped our booze. I tried the white version of Medallion wine, but I was less impressed than I was with the red that we had last night in Tanger.
Hard to believe we were all the way in the north of the country this morning, and here we were in Marrakech sipping drinks by the pool. We headed to bed sort of early, to play Balatro and get some sleep.
