We arrived at Casablanca train station, where outside there was a large group of men waiting around. One of them quickly raced over to us and started walking along beside us, offering us his services as a taxi driver for a high price. We noticed that once he had come over to us all the other guys had backed off. Clearly there was some kind of ‘dibs’ rule at play here. Dad tried arguing about the price but it was no use, it was either accept his offer or don’t. Out of options, we reluctantly hopped in.
The meter was ‘broken’ or more likely still in its packaging, and clearly our driver couldn’t wait to be rid of the annoying tourists in his taxi, as he dropped us on the side of the road more than a block from where we were staying. Confused and lost we stood there a while, hoping the guy who was supposed to meet us and show us our apartment would find us. Clearly the Gods had taken pity on us this day and after a little while we saw a man running up the street waving at us.

We were spending my birthday here, so I had great expectations for Casablanca. My only point of reference was the movie which made it seem quite glamorous. In my Dad’s blog he described Casablanca as having a “post-apocalyptic” feel, which I thought was a bit harsh. A city on the brink of an apocalypse maybe, but not post-apocalyptic. Also turns out the movie was actually set in Tangier, but called Casablanca for legal reasons. Figures.

For those thinking of visiting Casablanca, here’s what I would say. It’s not a city that’s currently set up for receiving huge amounts of tourists. It’s a very large city, with over 3 million people, and is a major commercial hub. While some cities are centered around the tourist industry, this is just a city living it’s life, with people going about their business. The buildings themselves are in a French style, and reminded us a bit of Nice, if Nice was a bit more unloved and frequently hit by sand storms. While there are a few fun things to do it certainly wouldn’t be the first place in Morocco I’d recommend going, and a day or two is plenty of time to see everything. Unless of course you’re a domestic tourist, but I’ll get to that later.


With few tourist attractions we were able to relax for most of the week without feeling like we were missing out on anything. We really only did two main excursions. The first took in most of the city. We began by walking through a local food market (see above), which had small sharks on sale, to get to Rick’s Cafe. It is of course that gin joint from the movie Casablanca, where the majority of the movie is set. The cafe is a creation based on the movie and is quite expensive (not to mention has a dress code too nice for the likes of us), so we stopped to take a picture outside, then continued on our way.

We stopped in at a new, very modern looking shopping centre, before heading to the Hassan II Mosque, which is the third largest mosque in the world. To say it is a large building is an understatement; it is unfathomably large. It is the only mosque in Morocco where non-Muslims are allowed inside, so we did a tour. Our guide was quite funny and enjoyed joking around. When one lady asked how much the building cost to make, he replied, “You looking at buying it?”. The real answer was that it was paid for by public subscription and 12 million people donated in total. In the end it cost $400-$700 million. The building is 210m tall and 25,000 people can pray inside, with an additional capacity of 80,000 outside. Many Moroccans travel to Casablanca to visit the mosque, especially on certain days relevant to the Muslim faith.

The other was to a fancy shopping centre, Morocco Mall, which is the second largest shopping centre in Africa. Other reasons it’s notable is that Jennifer Lopez, you may have heard of her, inaugurated the mall and performed there, and there’s this huge cylindrical aquarium just randomly there. Inside there is an elevator you can pay to ride, and look out at all the fishies that appear to be swimming around the mall (perhaps this will make sense if you look at the photos below).

The final notable thing in Casablanca, which while not a tourist attraction is certainly important to mention, is that it played host to my 18th birthday celebration. While I had low expectations for a fun time when I arrived in Casablanca, it actually turned out to be one of my favourite birthdays ever. We kicked off the day with a buffet breakfast at the Sofitel; I am obsessed with buffet breakfasts. They had a fairly good selection of food, and it all tasted great, but this wasn’t what made the experience so memorable. Dad had been looking at wine and the waiter asked if he would like a glass. Dad replied he was just looking as his daughter (that’s me!) had turned 18 today, and he was thinking of buying something later on. The waiter then organised for the entire waitstaff to come over and sing me happy birthday in both French and English, and they gave me a HUGE piece of a really expensive tasting cake with the words “Happy Birthday Anna” spelled out on the plate in French. If that wasn’t enough they also gave me a glass of wine with a bow around it, and the waiter wouldn’t accept a tip. It was a very exceptionally wonderful start to my birthday.


Next Mum and I went to a hammam, which is a Moroccan-style spa. I had misunderstood what Mum had meant by you can only wear underwear inside, which I had thought included a bra. At this realisation I was a little hesitant, what with all my culturally-instilled ideas about modesty and whatnot, but I got over this fairly quickly. The spa treatment included a wash down with Moroccan black soap (a jelly like substance made of olive oil), then a sauna and another wash down. Next we laid down on a granite slab and were each exfoliated by a woman with a scourer cloth (this got quite personal) and then marinated in seaweed goo while wrapped in a plastic sheet. I couldn’t help but feel like a body at the morgue. We were rinsed off again and moved to another room, where we were lathered in oil and massaged, while the ladies sung me happy birthday. I again felt very special. Finally it was off to the shower, then we were wrapped in bath robes and were given some Moroccan tea. The whole experience was very relaxing, and my skin has never felt better. Better than baby soft, it was like I had been reborn!
Finally we couldn’t do an eighteenth birthday without going to a bar. But where to go, this was the question my Dad posed to a TripAdvisor forum, to which he got a lively discussion. Our favourite answer came from our good friend Kaptain Sensible (we feel like we know him after all the wise words he gave us).

Thanks to him we knew where not to go, and he actually had a very sensible recommendation for us that turned out to be quite good: the Bistro du Titan. Fortunately there were no street girls to tempt the patrons nor fights that broke out (although perhaps that would have made for a lively story). We did however have a nice meal, some burgers, and I had a Casablanca beer.

In conclusion Morocco is a very interesting country with amazing food, architecture and people, and if you’re ever lucky enough to visit here’s what I learned. Going with a tour company would probably be my recommendation, but make sure to do your research as there a lot who try to scam tourists. For women it’s best not to travel alone, so bring some friends and having a male with you is quite handy (as people tend to leave you alone more). Research the common scams before you go so you’re not an easy target, but most importantly learn as much as you can while you’re there and have a great time. I can’t say I’ll be quick to go back; after having lived there for 2 months we were all Morocco-ed out, but we had some wonderful experiences.
And that my friends brings us to the end of our adventures in Morocco, save for a last minute panic where we thought we were going to be deported in Spain. We were catching a flight to London via Madrid where we had to alight and change planes, and Dad suddenly realised that since we had no Schengen days left (you can spend three months in Schengen countries, then are not allowed to return for another three) and thought if we go through Spanish immigration we’ll surely be deported. Fortunately this wasn’t an issue and we arrived in London as planned, but I’ll save that for the next post.




