Casablanca

 You will all be shocked (SHOCKED!) to learn that no one asked me for my form that I had to have to get into Morocco. 

I feel asleep in the waiting area in the airport.  I sat down to a few people and woke up to a massive line ready for boarding.  

My flight from Paris to Casablanca was uneventful.  I was so tired but they never dimmed the lights so no nap.  My arrival is a bit of a blur. I know I waited at the wrong luggage carousel and by the time I figured that out, my bag was sitting in a pile on the floor.  Through the border check (unnecessary form at the ready).  I really do not remember any French from my BC secondary education.  Merci but only after Gracias and Thank you.  

I found a taxi outside of the airport and showed him my Bookings.com form.  Yes, yes, not problem.  Which translates to English as 'Oh, no, I have no idea where that is so there will definitely be a problem'.  Me and my guy drove around for quite some time.  I know we turned onto the abattoir district.  That was concerning.  But I was not accepted as halal because I was deemed unblessable.  

Casablanca is a big modern city.  But there was a donkey cart on the highway so all stereotypes are not blown. 

My first two photos (there are a lot of cats here)

I have to admit, i threw away my first day.  I woke up at 1pm on Saturday.  And my knee was killing me.  So, I never left my room.  I  have never done that before but I could barely walk.  I texted my nurse friend Val and said "here is the painkillers I have, what I can take that will allow me to walk and not kill me'.  Answer, double up the Tylenol and Aleve. Excellent. 

Here's my room by the way.

I woke up today and my knee was much better for the day of rest.  But I wanted to sightsee today so I got out my Tylenol and my Aleve and opened them up.  Turns out the Aleve bottle is full of Tylenol.  There were only three tablets of Aleve.  Enough for this morning.  If I remember one thing, do not OD on Tylenol.  

So, I had two tasks to deal with before I could start my day.  Find a money exchange and a pharmacy.  I asked at the front desk.  You can't miss it.  The most said lie in the world.  I eventually found the exchange, closed, and the pharmacy, only takes Dairham.  Back the the money exchange, open, and then back to the pharmacy who only had one box, back to the hotel, wait, back to the pharmacy, neproxene purchased, enough for the whole trip assuming I stay crippled.  

My no research plan is not a good plan, people, take note.  What to do in Casablanca for one day.  Well, to start, do some research.  There is a giant mosque here, Hassan II mosque.  it may be the biggest in the world.  I decided to go there.  the front desk ordered me a taxi.  The taxi driver immediately convinced me to hire him for the day.  Sure, why not, I have no idea what else to do so I will let him take me around.

Mustafa

The mosque.  Huge.  Beautiful.  

Next Mustafa and I stopped at the beach so I could take more pictures of the mosque.  They are very proud of their mosque.  

A quick stop at a park, Park of Arabic?  It had a nice tiled stream/fountain thing.  Another cat. I should say, another cat photo.  There are cats everywhere here. EVERYWHERE!

Next up, a million pigeons.  I know that this square is famous for something but I think all anyone remembers is the birds.  Mohammed V square I think.

And then lunch.  

lemon chicken

And because I am clearly not Muslim, we stopped at a Catholic church. Which had a lot of lovely stained glass. 

Then this white building which got zero explanation.  I don't think Mustafa likes this building.  But I saw it in the distance and asked if we could go there.  I think it used to be a church but isn't anymore.  

And then one last mosque next to a medina (city market).  I got completely lost in the medina, breaking all rules about going into one of these rabbit warrens with a hanging purse and a camera in hand.  I wandered up and down little alleys, trying to find my taxi.  I knew it couldn't be far, it was parked right outside of the mosque and I could see the minaret (the tower).  I walked and walked until I finally noticed an identical minaret a few blocks away.  Those medinas can really turn you around.  My taxi was still sitting there, in front of mosque #2.  

I am meeting my group in 30 minutes.  The jet lagged introvert in me is already wondering if it is social suicide to skip our first dinner together.

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Later that evening.  Well, I sucked it up and went to dinner and, of course, I'm glad I did.  A very nice group.  One American couple (young, wife is very chatty), one man from New York, originally from Russia, one Canadian couple (Barrie, Ontario, middle aged), one UK woman (young, thankfully paid for the single supplement so she has her own room and therefore, I have my own room!), one UK couple (middle aged) with their 26 year old son (sharing a room with the NY guy), and the UK couple (middle aged) that I met at the mosque.  They will get names probably at some point.  

We met our CEO (tour guide) named Mohammed.  He is from Morocco.  He seems very nice, as I suspected he would be.  We had an hour confab about the trip and what to expect.  The family of three have signed up for almost all of the extras.  We can add on as we want.  Rob warned me about the Hammam but you know I am probably going to do it.  It sounds awful, some sort of painful scrubbing/public bathing situation.  I might have talked myself out of it again just writing that sentence.  

The best part of the 'what to expect' talk was what each city is known for, weaving, leather, carpets, oils, etc.  All I could think was thank god for my extra bag!  

Then we all walked to the restaurant.  Le Fleur I think.  I had a delicious chicken and almond pie with sugar on top and lots of cinnamon.  My mom and I had something like this at the Turkish? restaurant in Victoria that closed years ago.  But I never forgot that meal and now I got to have it again!

While we were waiting for our food, Mohammed took some of us to get a new SIM card so we can all be on WhatsApp together.  The young guy with his parents, I guess he needs a name already, Tom, had his new iPhone plucked out of his hand by a motorcyclist this very morning as they were walking about.  This is what everyone has been warning me about.  That was also his camera.  Poor guy.  He is taking it well, and we were merciless in talking about phones all though dinner.  NY guy (Denis) set up the WhatsApp page and we all just scanned the code.  Denis asked Tom if he wanted to do a retinal scan so he didn't feel left out.  It killed at dinner!  

And on the way back, we stopped at a grocery store to buy a big bottle of water each.  I bought a pack of cookies for the car.  I am supposed to take my pain killers with food so I need some handy.  

And that's the day.  A long day.  My knee is holding out.  I kept up with the group which would not have been the case for the previous two days.  Is it getting better or is my Tylenol/Aleve cocktail to thank?  I'm not stopping taking them in the near future so I won't find out anytime soon.  

The journey begins

Gotta kill an hour in the Victoria airport so I might as well start the next post.  Although as I type, I realize I don't have anything to  report.  Valerie drove me to the airport like the saint that she is.  I got a text from  Jordan that he can't make it to Paris so I am on my own for the day there.  I got randomly selected for the extra level of screening at security.  I guess I don't have any bomb making materials on my hands because they let me through.  Now I am about to start drinking my Spinnakers coffee and wondering once again, why YYJ does not have a coffee shop in the airport past security.  Stay in your lane Spinnakers PUB. 

Well, that wasn't an hour.  

Boarding in Victoria

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Well, that was 24 hours!  I am waiting at my departure gate in Paris Airport.  Victoria seems so long ago.  I should mention that I did manage to lose my winter coat there in the first five minutes of my journey.  I only noticed because someone else left their coat at security and there was a general "someone left their black coat..." message.  Loser I thought.  But on reflex, I checked my bag for my coat.  Not there.  It's blue but it is in a black pouch.  

So I went to check. Not mine.  But then, where's my coat?!  I checked all of the places inside of security.  I wasn't even sure I had not taken it out of my bag at home.  Or when I sat down before going to check in. Asking someone inside security about something that might have happened outside of security is like asking someone in Mexico about something that might have happened in Kenya.  There is no communication between the two.  Eventually some guy took pity on me (I think he was looking for a break) so he went through the impenetrable barrier and then some other guy arrived back with my coat!  Miracle!  

People always assume I know what I am doing when I travel since I have done it so much but i still amaze myself at how stupid I can be. For an even better example:  Apparently Morocco needs an entry form that has to be PRINTED!  Did I fill out this form and print it back home?  No.  Did I know about this form?  No.  Did I first learn about this form when the ticket agent in Vancouver almost didn't let me on the plane because I didn't have it?  Yes.  That is a bit of an exaggeration, she said and I quote "it's your funeral" and let me on.

here is my lunch/dinner on my YVR -> CDG flight.  
Who says "I think I'll give a plane full of people just
starting a 10 hour flight some raw cabbage"?. 
Someone not on that flight, that's who!

So now in Paris, I had to find a printer.  Having learned a valuable lesson from Argentinian Tourist office in Ushuaia, I went to the Tourist Info kiosk and asked if they would print it for me.  They did.  Crisis averted but it could have been much worse (my funeral level of worse apparently).

Oh and the tourist office had a free map and sold me the train tickets to and from the city.  It was nice to walk (slowly) past the long lines at the ticket machines when I finally got to the trains.  

As it turns out Jordan was not able to meet me in Paris.  He had a work emergency.  I would have loved to see him but I think it may have been for the best.  I didn't get out of the airport until after 9:30 and I didn't get to the Eiffel Tower until 11am.  Plus, and this is likely to be a recurring topic, I have seriously damaged my knee.  As in I can barely walk damaged.  So, I wasn't quite the site-seeing commando that Jordan was expecting.  

When I visited Paris last time, Alisma and I didn't make it to the Eiffel Tower.  I didn't really have much interest actually.  I still don't but the neighbourhood it is in has good shopping and restaurants and parks so I thought it would be a good place to go this time in my few hours in the city.  I'm sure glad I found my winter coat, cause it was CCCCCold! 

It is free to go into the grounds.  You just have to pay to go up.  When I arrived there was barely any lineup.  When I walked by a few hours later on my way back to the train, the line up was crazy.  I would not have bothered.  I did not pay to go up.  The top floor was closed anyway.

After a very quick wander through the Eiffel grounds, I wandered around Rue Cler area.  I don't know if I ever found Rue Cler proper but my knee was killing me so I stopped for a snack.  I did not get my croissant.  Clearly another trip is in order.

Instead I had a cafe au lait and a burnt sugar apple tart. My waiter was a master at upselling.  I also has a very ordinary bottle of water for 6 Euros.  But it was nice to sit and enjoy being in a Paris cafe, drinking a coffee and watching the world walk by. 

A bit of a wander along the Seine and then back on the train and back to the airport. I don't even know how long I've been awake.  It's over 24 hours.  I am so tired.  And so many more hours to go. 

Back at the airport, Terminal 2E

I'm not trying to steal your identity, I promise...

 I barely want my own identity, what would I do with yours too.

So, whenever I try to share my BlogSpot link on some sort of platform, it links to this scary looking screen.  I thought it was just Facebook that hated BlogSpot but this happened on Teams too.  So, Microsoft also hates BlogSpot.  

If you click on Advanced, you get this slightly less scary screen.  Do not get tempted by "back to safety".  

From there just click on the link that you wanted in the first place.  Although I think the (unsafe) at the end is a bit over the top.  You already scared most away, this just adds insult to injury at this late point in the process. Your computer will not blow up, I promise.  

See, look at where you get from that windy pathway:  here!  Fun stories and pictures.  Yay!  Go into the darkness, reject the safety option.  

Oh, here's something interesting and lightly troubling.  You remember that I mentioned that I borrowed Amy's camera because I killed mine in Antarctica.  So, I was looking for something today and found a camera case that I wondered if it might be better than Amy's camera case.  I opened it and there is a camera in there.  I do not know where this camera came from.  Is it mine?  Did I buy it? Did someone give it to me?  Or, god forbid, did I borrow it years ago and never give it back? Have I used it before? It is the exact same camera as Amy's just an older model!  

I'm going to take 'mine' to Morocco.  If I am going to lose or break it, I would rather it not be Amy's.  The battery is just enough different between the two models that I can't use Amy's multiple batteries.  But it uses the same battery as my tiny little Canon (pocket size) so I have two.  I think that should do it.  Especially since I don't have time to get a new one. I can use the charger from the compact camera.

Packing updates.  I talked to my lovely friend, Missy, who spent some time in Morocco and she talked me out of taking a tank top and capris.  Stay covered.  First, the culture.  Second, it is going to be cold.  Done.  Now, do I take sandals?  I am reconsidering based on the tank/capri advise.  Update: Two friends who have been to Morocco, two votes for no sandals.  Fine, I got a pedicure for NOTHING!  

I ordered Euros and they are ready to pick up.  I have zero time tomorrow, back to back meetings, including over lunch.  So, I will have to get to the back at the end of the day before they close at 5pm.  Let's all say a little prayer that I don't forget.  

Ok.  It's getting serious now.  I have to go shove things in my backpack.  Maybe I'll look at my to do list that I wrote last week and never looked at again.