Trek to Marrakech

Our journey to Marrakech went smoothly – the highway was in great shape and there wasn’t too much traffic.  It was amazing to see the changes as we went from the coastal city of Mohammedia, past the metropolis of Casablanca, through rich farmland, and then into the more arid landscape north of Marrakech.  We saw farms with animals, as well as fields of corn, grapes, olive trees, potatoes, and onions, but when we got farther south the only thing that was growing was a type of cactus that has a fruit called karmous en sada (aka karmous en hindi) – or prickly pear.  I have yet to taste it, but we saw A LOT of them growing beside the highway.  Apparently in addition to food and animal feed, it is now used in medicines and cosmetics (here’s a BBC article on it).  It’s nice to see a product that grows naturally in Morocco benefit the local people.

Here’s a ton of cactus that has been planted around this mountain.  Someone is obviously capitalizing on the height by renting out the antenna space too:

This is the way you usually find the cactus…used as fences:

Barren landscape:

Small village:

A bigger village:

A big river, by Moroccan standards:

We made it to Marrakech with one stop to change money, and one stop at a rest area.  The money-changing was uneventful…I could have done it without my Moroccan translator.  When I left, the guy said, “Have a good day!”  It’s really unusual to hear English spoken here so it always makes me smile when someone makes an attempt.  I think they feel the same way about my attempts at Arabic.  The security at the bank was tight…we had to be buzzed in and out, and a security guard watched our entire transaction. 

The rest areas along the highway are very modern and similar to the ones we saw in South Africa – they’re called Afriquia.  There is a gas station, a small café with outside seating, a little playground, and squat toilets.  The teenagers hemmed and hawed about using them but decided they couldn’t wait…Norah held it.  She will eventually break down and do it. 

Uncle Abdullah wearing my shirt:

Toll ticket:

Our cars at the rest area:

Cars heading home from Europe (no wonder Ben wasn’t worried about the stuff on top of our car!):

The hotel check-in was nowhere near as smooth.  I used Google Maps on my laptop in the car to get us close…at least on the right road.  This whole area is called the Palmeraie, but there are all different parts – the golf resort, the residences, a Holiday Inn, the apartment hotel (where we were headed), and some other facilities.  We asked at least 6 people for directions and kept driving everywhere to find that we were in the wrong place.  Finally we called the reception desk and they gave us more directions.  When we arrived at the gate they told us to use, the gatekeeper was praying so we waited until he was done, only to find that it wasn’t the right gate.  We finally found the reception building and thought our problems were solved.

It wasn’t very busy but it took a while for them to get to us.  The next problem was that I had booked the hotel in Morocco and didn’t have a printed receipt.  I had already confirmed that they had the reservation so I don’t know why they needed a piece of paper, but I attempted 5 times to email the confirmation to the reception desk (while I was standing at the reception desk) and they never received it.  Finally the woman gave up and told us to wait a few minutes and someone would take us to our apartments.

On the 2-minute drive to the apartment in the van we lost both of the cars that were following us, so I arrived at our apartment with 3 kids and everyone else was missing.  The van driver left us on the side of the road and drove the van back looking for them.  Finally we were all together and shown to our apartment.  The bellman didn’t seem to think it was strange that there were 10 of us standing in a 2-bedroom apartment, and when I mentioned that I had booked two 2-bedroom apartments, not 1, he was very surprised.  I showed him the confirmation on the computer, and Ben, his brother Hassan, and Aliya headed back to reception for another wait.  Eventually they were told that there were no clean apartments ready for us, and that they would call when an apartment was ready.  While picking up the random socks and underwear strewn about the apartment, I noticed that there were no towels or pillowcases.  I called Ben who was still at reception, and he was told that it costs an extra $7/person/day for towels.  WHAT???  I would rather go to Marjane and buy nice towels to take back to Mohammedia than pay $70/day for towels for 10 people.  Eventually a lady showed up with 4 towels and 4 pillow cases.  Hopefully they didn’t add them to my bill.

Aside from the wait for our 2^nd apartment and a slow-draining bathroom sink, the apartment is actually pretty nice.  It has a beautiful veranda with a table and chairs, a sitting room, a tiny kitchen, 2 bedrooms, and 2 bathrooms.  It got mixed reviews online but our options were somewhat limited because of the size of our entourage, our budget, and our swimming pool and restaurant requirements.    

I will post some hotel photos soon, but right now we’re off to Marrakech.