Fantasyland

Someone really loves pink!


We set the alarm for this morning at 7am with plans to be in a taxi by 7:40 to ensure Julie could make it to the train station and buy her ticket before the 8am train to the airport. We didn’t make it to the cab by 7:40 but we were pretty close and made it to the train station before 8am. I dealt with the luggage and Julie ran inside to get her ticket. Luckily the train wasn’t coming until 8:07 so we had plenty of time. My train to Rabat was scheduled to leave at 8:15.

Julie and I said goodbye, we had a really fun week full of cities and activities. She’s going back to deal with the real world and I’m still going to be here having fun in fantasyland.

Just before my train was supposed to arrive an announcement was made in Arabic and then in French, neither of which I understood. A few minutes later a train pulled up but no one on the platform got on it. I asked if it was the train to Rabat and was told “no”. Then another train pulled up and this train wouldn’t let anyone on board and there wasn’t anyone on board already. Then the signs changed saying that my train had left and the next train coming to the station was for a city I hadn’t heard of and didn’t want to go to. I was pretty sure my train hadn’t come because it is a popular route and no one got on either train. I kept waiting and around 9am another announcement was made in Arabic and French and then half of the people on my platform started to walk down the platform and into a field further down the tracks off the platform. I approached several different people and they all told me I should move with the group to the field. A train pulled up near the field and we all got on, at this point I was fairly confident that I was in the right place. There are two train stations in Rabat and my ticket said the first of the two and I wanted the second of the two. I read in LP that the first was a seldom used train station with little more than a ticket booth and that the second station was much bigger.

As I have stated in previous blogs, there is no way to really know what stop is next or where you are except for asking someone else on the train. At every stop I would ask other people and they didn’t say any names I recognized so I stayed on the train. As the train moved along I worried that maybe LP was out of date, it seems to be outdated in Morocco, and that maybe my ticket said the first of the two stations because the second was closed for construction. Should I get off at the first station and take a taxi to where I wanted to be or risk missing the town entirely and having to back track to Rabat from the next stop further away. When we stopped at the first Rabat station, one of the men I had shown my ticket to told me to get off there. A lot of people got up to get off and I had only expected a few to get off here. I tried to communicate that I wanted the second stop in Rabat if it still existed and the man seemed to understand and told me to sit down again. When the train started to slow a second time the helpful man let me know that this was my stop and I was the only person who got off at this stop. Had I read the map wrong and really wanted the first station not the second? I walked down the platform alone and came to a dead end. I looked the other way and it too was a dead end. I was trapped by the train and the wall on the wrong side of the train. The station was under construction and my side of the station was closed. I managed to get the train drivers attention and then hopped down on the tracks and around the front of the train. On the other side of the train there were lots of people, whoever had opened the door for me had opened the wrong side of the train.

I exited the train station and found the first breakfast place I could find. I had a delicious breakfast followed up by tea. It was really relaxing sitting in the Café with other men looking out the windows at people as they walked by drinking my mint tea. Familiar music was playing on the radio, there was a slight breeze and everyone was happy. I finished my tea and thought, I should get going, then I remembered I don’t have anywhere to be or anything to do. I can take my time and relax, enjoy myself, there is no rush, this is the life!

Rather than take a cab I decided to walk to my hotel it wasn’t too terribly far and it was a nice day, as long as I stayed in the shadows. My sunburn didn’t develop as badly as I had feared, maybe because I applied sunscreen after the burn or maybe because I didn’t shower, maybe neither.

I like Rabat a lot, there is a cool breeze and it’s a city but things seem to be cleaner and move at a slower pace than does Casablanca.

I checked into my hotel room, which is $9 per night and headed back out to town to explore. I walked through the market and was approached by a man who wanted to know where I was from in America. I told him I was from California and he told me his brother was in Chicago, but he couldn’t go because America was very expensive. He asked me how I liked Morocco and I told him I really liked it. He asked me if I was looking for anything in particular in the market and I assured him that I was poor and not looking for anything. He asked if I would like to come to his shop and I told him I would look but not buy anything because I was not in a hurry to go anywhere. He then lead me to a women’s dress shop and asked if I saw anything in there I liked. He knew I wouldn’t and it was very evident that it wasn’t his shop, from the way he stood very far away from it. Then he got down to brass tacks and asked me if I wanted to buy some Hashish. Its easy to tell who these people are when you see them and this is what I had assumed he wanted when he initially approached me. I declined and told him I was poor and had no money. He assured me that hashish is legal in Morocco, because everything legal is sold this way. I put out my hand to shake his and told him that it was nice meeting him but I would need to be off.

I found the ocean on the northwest side of town, makes sense, they have a giant beach area. I wasn’t prepared for the beach, so I just walked around and took pictures. As it is a Sunday there were a lot of people out and everyone was having a good time. I explored the old fort that overlooks the ocean and had a really nice time walking around exploring. I was once again reminded of the Moroccan six pack. I think I should stop eating and only drink tea and smoke cigarettes and maybe I too will have a body like all of these guys.

For dinner I went to a local place in the Medina that had a fair amount of locals and ordered the chicken which was $3. I got a salad, bread, carrots, potatoes, chicken, soup, french fries and melon. It was all really good and the portions were quite large. From now on I am going to look for more local places than the touristy ones because Julie and I have been paying double or triple this price and not getting nearly as much variety or food.

Rabat

Boardwalk

Cemetery




Playing soccer






Unrefrigerated eggs

$3