Rising early, we make our way down to the lobby for breakfast. Morocco was a French territory and breakfast consists of pastry, cheese, coffee, tea and juice, we find this is what is served in the morning on most of our stops. After breakfast we head outside and mingle with the rest of our group in anticipation of the start of our journey. Soon we're piling into the hotel's transport vans on our way to the Mosque Hussan II. Kate and I explored the plaza surrounding this monumental building the previous day and now quickly queue up below ground level to get our entrance tickets and shoe bags. Finding we're not allowed to wear shoes into the mosque, we strip off and bag our footwear before entering. Non-Muslims are not usually allowed in mosques but this mosque allows visitors of all denominations for short periods between worship. This grand building sits on a promontory extending out into the Atlantic Ocean. We're told this mosque can accommodate 25,000 worshipers inside and an additional 80,000 outside. The mosque was started in 1986 and was built by some 2,500 construction workers and 10,000 artists and craftsman. The building was inaugurated in the summer of 1993. After touring the spectacular main hall we move downstairs to the baths where worshipers ritualistically wash before prayer.
Exiting the Mosque, we make our way across the huge plaza to a taxi stand and load into waiting petite-taxis before traveling onward to the train station. We wait at the taxi drop-off for the last of our companions to arrive and board the train to Rabat, Morocco's capitol city. We arrive in Rabat from underground, the train stopping in full sunlight but below street level. Exiting the train, we climb a scaffolded stairway through construction to street level where we're met by the Nouvelle's main thoroughfare. This avenue is bordered by provincial buildings and the street's medium is decorated with palm trees, water fountains and grand Moroccan flags. Quickly we make our way down a side street to a small hotel where we stow our luggage for our exploration of Rabat. We enjoy a quick cup of tea before making our way back to the street. Mohamad detours us into and upstairs at a restaurant overlooking the main downtown square. We have lunch together and soon are back outside following our leader Mohamed down Avenue Mohammed IV to the old town. Hearing angry shouting across the square, Mohamed tells us of the many protests that take place in this, the capitol city; up to 85% unemployment and poverty have given way to frustrated mobs on the street shouting and throwing rock and bottles at police in full riot gear. As we watch the scene unfold before us, Mohamed then tells us we will be fine, just give the protesters a wide berth and they will not bother us.
Several blocks down the street, the scene soon changes from a broad, wide French provincial avenue to narrow bustling alleys and tiny stalls housing all sorts of merchants, craftsmen and artists, we're now in the souk. We hear local music, smell spices and incense and see all manner of people. We're told to be careful with our cameras; most locals do not want their picture taken. When asked if we can take their picture, most give an abrupt no, some a yes and a few want money, up to 25 dirham. We soon find the only set prices are in restaurants, all other purchases must be haggled, the back and forth haggling seems to be the national pastime. Wrought iron filigree covers our heads as we traverse the souk, everyone keeping up with our leader, before finding ourselves outside the souk and beside a harbor. In front of us is a grand fortress, the earthen walls of the Kasbah of the Sultan Udayas. Outside the wall, we follow the walkway to the main gate and on entering we find something quite unexpected, the houses and buildings within the kasbah are painted white with a blue trim from the street up to about five feet. We all comment how it looks more Greek than African. Following the cobbled streets past colorful doorways and meticulously manicured potted gardens we find ourselves on a small square with a short stone wall. This plaza is situated on a high prominence with a commanding view overlooking the Atlantic Ocean at it's convergence with Rabat's harbor. Looking down, the beach below reveals surfers, a lighthouse and cottages. We soon dive back into the kasbah's neighborhood and make our way to a small cafe where we have a respite before exploring more of Rabat.
Our group splits up as we exit the Kasbah with about half our number continuing along the harbor to Hassan Tower. The sun is high as we walk, we observe a bustling city dotted with minarets across the harbor as we make our way to the tall landmark up the street. As we arrive we are met by botanical gardens bordering the unfinished mosque. Nearing the gates surrounding the tower we are met by colorful soldiers on horseback guarding the entrance. We enter to a huge courtyard filled with tall stone columns reaching for the sky. This was intended to be a huge mosque dedicated to Hassan but was never finished. This minaret was to be the world's tallest but also sits unfinished. A modest but finished mosque sits beside the Mausoleum of Mohammed V across the plaza opposite the minaret. We hear the call to afternoon prayer as we explore outside the mosque. Back on the street we explore the neighborhoods of the Ville-Nouvelle as we navigate our way without our leader. Soon we happen upon two angry mobs hurling fists and unintelligible insults at each other, we find it difficult to avoid them as it seems they are following our path. Fortunately we eluded the mayhem and found ourselves on familiar ground. Making our way back to the small hotel, we rejoin our companions, collect our luggage and descend back down to the train station.
Mohamed, after checking the train schedule, returns with unwelcome news. Informing us the Moroccan trains do not follow a strict schedule, Mohamed further explains our train is not running and we will have to catch a later train and connect with another later train to make Meknes. As we watch the sun sink in the sky and the platform fill, our train lumbers to a stop. We find the cars filled and stand with our luggage at our feet as we leave the station. After passing several stops most of our scattered group has acquired seats as a near disaster strikes. Mohamed announces our stop, we are scattered throughout a standing room only car and some of our group is exiting as Mohamed realized his mistake... "This is not our stop" he shouts, barely audible at the other end of the crowded car. Bystanders carry on the message and soon all are back on board but now have to patiently wait for empty seats. As the daylight fades we arrive at our connecting station and wait on a dark platform for our train. Mohamed tells us that our desired train would have dropped us a block from our hotel, but now we would be deposited on the other side of town. I believe this is the first time Mohamed uses the Intrepid Travel Matra "Real-Life Experience". Late but uneventfully, we board our train and soon are outside the station in Meknes splitting into small groups for our petite-taxi rides to the hotel. The petite-taxi dance is as follows; a petite-taxi pulls up, Mohamed haggles and pays, two or three travelers toss their luggage on the roof rack, the riders board and immediately speed off in the tiny vehicle. This repeats until everyone has made it outside our hotel. At the hotel we opt for getting our rooms, dropping our luggage and quickly heading out for a quick dinner. We walk down the street and enter a doorway, walk downstairs and settle in for a great Moroccan meal with great company. As we dine we soon find that we not only have a great leader but that the group seems to be very compatible. With our appetite finally satiated we head back to the hotel for a fitful sleep.
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