Morocco

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Don't ask to borrow a pen:
While in Tangier I visited the railway station to book my ticket for the train to Marrakech - the clerk could not have been more helpful - however when I asked if I could borrow his pen to write down the times of the train I was told that the pen only wrote in Arabic.

I've been dying to use that one on someone!

Morocco, what can I say about Morocco – as soon as I stepped from the boat in Tangier, some one was asking me if I wanted a Taxi, and did I have a place to stay – they knew a very nice hotel. I said, no thanks, I already had one booked. That wasn't the answer they wanted to hear!

The taxi that I eventually took did not take me to the Hotel I asked, and did not have any change for the (small) note that I tried to pay for the taxi with – I went into the hotel to check-in and get some change. The hotel staff changed my note, I gave the taxi driver the exact amount, put my backpack on my back, and headed off to the hotel I wanted to stay at, with the shouts of the taxi driver insisting that it had closed down ringing in my ears.

After checking into the hotel and telling them of my friendly taxi driver they explained that he would have got a kick back if I had booked into “his” hotel.

Tangier is an “interesting” city – Jan Claude Van Damn was staring in a movie being shot there, so he’d been stuck there for six weeks, poor man. Everyday locals queued outside the hotel where the film crew was based in the hope that they would be employed.

Casablanca train station sign

I took the train out of Tangers and headed south. It's strange, but I don't really have many memories of this trip - I've found a photograph of me in a sleeper train, but if you'd asked me if I'd travelled by sleeper train then I'd have said no!

While trying to enter the medina of one of the cities I was harangued by a 'guide' who would "show me around", after saying "no" nicely, and then "no" quietly, "no" loudly, he would not leave me alone - eventually he got the message and left me by the gate to the old city with the following curse "May you s*** chocolate and p*** coke-a-cola". I must admit life would be interesting, and lot easier if I could. On the way out, I met my guide, he asked me in pleasant tones if I had found the place interesting, and hoped I'd come back.

Although my travelling companion on this trip dressed conservatively (as she always does in Arab countries) this didn't stop her attracting attention. The best example was while waiting in a train on Casablanca station platform. A gentlemen walked passed our carriage window, turned around and walked back (talking a good look), turned around and walked back (still having a good look), and then promptly walked into a post holding the station roof up. We both burst into laughter, and he wandered off looking rather sheepish.