Camping l'Océan Bleu, Mohammedia (Morocco 20800)

Marrekech wasn't the city we expected it to be. On the Internet some people thought the constant pestering in the square was annoying and intimidating. We didn't find the stall holders in the Souk pushy, or the guys touting for business at the food stalls on the square too annoying. However the food guys were funny. John told some of them last night we'd already eaten, they said to Angela, he needed more food as he was too skinny! Sales patter at its best. Despite their persistence they accepted defeat with good humour, and sayings such as, 'happy wife, happy life', and their favourite, 'lovely jubbly'. At the end of the day they were all trying to earn a living, as was the old guy in the secure parking area we were staying in. Every morning he cleared all the rubbish dropped in the car park, and was happy to take away our bin bag for us. By the entrance to the parking was a toilet. John suggest Angela give it a wide berth, but he used it regularly. He was shocked to discover that the man tidying the car park lived in the toilet block spendingmuch of his time flat out on the floor! So this morning when we left we gave him some money. Life is very, very hard for some people here. Just after nine, it was already too hot. Today was going to be a scorcher. After wasting time looking for a supermarket we set off. The drive today would be long, and as it turned out very boring. The toll road makes for a faster journey, but the relentless droaning of Marges tyres on the tarmac, and the unchanging view of freshly harvested corn fields made the journey monotonous.

We stopped twice, the second time the men selling local wares were on us before we'd even parked Marge. They were persistent, even after we politely refused to buy from them. One was selling straw hats, as worn by the Berber community here. Secretly, Angela would love one of these, but couldn't see herself getting away wearing it outside of Morocco. Late afternoon we arrived back on the Atlantic coast and at Camping L'Ocean Blue.

We couldn't believe we'd stayed here two weeks ago, it seemed so much longer. First job for Angela was to catch up on her washing. It is not so warm here, and she is hoping everything will be dry by the morning. Interestingly, of the four vehicles in our area, three have black bras hanging on their washing lines. Let's hope it's not some sort of campsite code!

Camping l'Océan Bleu, Mohammedia (Morocco 20800) (day 2)

Rest day for Marge today. Casablanca has a large port and is a commercial hub. Even though it was a Sunday we just didn't want the stress of driving and parking in the city. Don't feel left out Marge, there's was no chance of meeting any Humphrey Bogart look a likes. The film Casablanca was actually filmed in Hollywood! We particularly wanted to visit the Hassan II mosque, built over nine hectares, some of it over reclaimed land from the Atlantic ocean. Our Moroccan taxi driver booked to take us there spoke little English, and didn't like football, normally a topic that breaks the ice. He did however think Morocco would beat Brazil when they played them in the upcoming world cup. Good luck there. His English may have been bad, his driving however appalling. And to think we have to contend with these taxi drivers when we leave the area tomorrow! Sorry Marge, it might be testing for you. We really enjoyed our visit to the mosque. It had a real wow factor. Our guide was informative, and spoke english which was great. Often when abroad the English get a raw deal when on guided tours. There were a number of guides who spoke various languages. 

Outside out taxi driver was ready to take us to the old Medina.

As it is Sunday a lot of the stalls were closed, but we didn't mind, we've seen many Medina's, and know there are many more coming our way. What interests us is walking the area and seeing other points of interest. Lunch was at at Moroccan restaurant.

Cous cous with vegetables, chicken and lots of very large chickpeas which don't agree with Angela. That aside the meal was delicious, and the two Moroccan guys providing musical accompaniment were funny. The backing music to their song, boom, boom, was the same for all their other songs. We tipped them a few dirham as they made Angela smile because they were so silly. Our taxi driver now returned from the mosque opposite was keen to leave. The outward drive had been bad, the return was positively dangerous. Some serious speed and tailgating. Angela was confident he wouldn't kill us as we hadn't paid him yet. The price for our trip out today with the taxi had been agreed at the campsite reception yesterday. However, upon our return the driver wanted another two hundred dirhams because of the increase in fuel prices. Angela refused, telling him our price had been agreed. John sought out a member of staff to speak to the driver. Suddenly all was fine! We were a little disappointed by the behaviour of our driver. During this visit, and when we flew to the coastal town of Agadir early last year we have not encountered behaviour like this in this country, in fact the total opposite. Angela thinks the taxi driver was given a stiff talking to by the staff member. At the end of the day with the internet we could leave a bad review for the campsite, which we won't. We think the driver may regret pulling the stunt. He'll probably not be asked to take customers on excursions again. Tomorrow we set off again. So today Angela decided to trim her own hair, and John was brave enough to ask her to tidy his. We think we look O.K. At the souk in Rabat we watched a barber cut a young man's hair whilst we ate our mixed meat sandwiches. Now we notice all the young men have a similar haircut. Very short at the sides, longer on top, a little like a monk. Angela was tempted, but didn't dare!

Camping l'Océan Bleu, Mohammedia (Morocco 20800)

There would always be a price to pay for staying overnight in the heart of Rabat right by the walls of the souk. And it wasn't an excess of offal, that went down nicely. We were parked a stone throw away from a mosque. All the mosques here have loudspeakers at the top of their minarets. Unfortunately this one was pointing right at us. Sometimes the call to prayer is recorded. Here in Morocco they don't seem to be. Normally we find the sound quite soothing, last night's definitely wasn't. We could hear the chap tapping his microphone, testing, testing, can anyone hear me. He also shuffled papers, lost his way, stopped then restarted again. After having to put up with a few fart cars, as John calls them, cars with big exhausts, and the security dogs twice going ballistic, probably because of one of the many stray cats here entering the parking lot, Angela fell asleep, for about three hours, and then was abruptly awoken by the call to prayer! All that aside, we were able to step out from Marge this morning, walk into the souk where the stallholders were just opening up and meander along back street to the the Hassan Tower, a twelfth century minarete that was to be the tallest in the world. But it was never completed, and now stands at just forty four meters high. We weren't able to enter the tower, but we did visit the mausoleum where we saw the tombs of King Mohammed V, and his two sons, King Hassan II and Prince Abdullah. The ceiling in the mausoleum was extraordinary. We were lucky to have arrived at the tower and mausoleum before the crowds who were entering just as we left.

Coffee, Moroccan tea and pain chocolates at a Salon de The on the way back to Marge ended our time in Rabat. Time we'd really enjoyed. Leaving Rabat on roads of smooth tarmac with Marge complaining a little from the rough ride of yesterday, but she'll sort herself out as before, we passed the royal palace, heavily guarded, and made our way down the coast, stopping to look at some camels along the side of the road.

Tired from a disturbed night, and lots of walking around Rabat we spent the afternoon catching up on chores. Early evening a walk to the nearby supermarket for a few essentials before taking yet more dirham out at a cash machine. Cash is king here. We have a taxi booked for nine thirty in the morning to take us into nearby Casablanca, and return us later in the afternoon. So we really should get an early night.

Somehow, we don't think we'll need to set our alarm, there are chickens and a cockerel wandering around the campsite, and of course a mosque nearby, fortunately the call to prayer here is melodic and quite short.