LYNN’S SPAIN/MOROCCO
JOURNAL
Day 13, Tuesday, May 21
Travel Day to Rabat (Ait M’Hamed to Azilal to Beni Mellal to Rabat)
We woke up at 5:30 and woke David up—he said he wanted to leave at 6. We said our goodbyes—should have given him our roll of toilet paper (Corinna had bought one for us). He apparently hasn’t yet made the transition to the local custom of using water instead of toilet paper. I asked Corinna to give him our roll the next time she sees him. We had pretty much packed up the night before. Corinna made some eggs for breakfast—many people had come bearing eggs yesterday. Even though we had said our goodbyes the night before, of course we did see Khadooj, already hard at work—she was making bread. I had given $20 to Corinna to have Khadooj make me some placemats (Corinna had shown me some samples). We said goodbye to the bees and to Vini, the pregnant cat, very friendly. She looked so funny when she tried to squeeze out the window looking out on the terrace—her pregnant belly would not allow it although she used to be able to squeeze through. I still have reminders of this cat—21 fleabites all over me—Philip never even got one! I bought some special cream from a pharmacy in Rabat. We felt the kittens move—Corinna had thought they would have already been born when she came back (she had been away for two weeks). We learned later that they were born this day while Corinna accompanied to Beni Mallal.
Starting
Back from Corinna’s House
The walk back was easier than the walk to the house—a bit cooler and less of a load (Corinna helped us carry stuff—she had had her own backpack on the trip in). Her countryside is very beautiful in its own way: rolling hills dotted with small oak trees, waving fields of green wheat, red poppies everywhere. A neighbor man caught up with us with a woman’s wrap which could also be used as a kilim—it looked a little shopworn to me and was not exactly what I wanted—I like the idea of Zahara making me a rug. I could have taken it in place of the rug that Zahara had promised me. But Corinna wore it damp (it had just been washed) the rest of the way and stored it in the store where we had bought cold water before. We had to hurry a bit because the grand taxi to Azilal was waiting for us. There is even photocopying available in Ait M’Hamed! We saw a huge herd of camels on the taxi ride to Azilal. A pity we couldn’t stop to take pictures—Corinna thought they were Bedouins.
In Azilal we picked up our suitcases at the Peace Corps hotel, where we met a Peace Corps couple from another village. We got a grand taxi to Beni Mellal—this time with four in back and two more in front. . I offered cinnamon gum to one and all. Passed a large reservoir—kind of like Don Pedro in appearance.
At Beni, we bought tickets for the !2:15 bus to Rabat. Before we boarded we ate lunch in a little café with Corinna—pita bread-type sandwiches—delicious and cheap. It was sad to say goodbye to Corinna—we had had such a good time in her village. It was a long hot ride—not much to look at (Brett was definitely right), obnoxious bus driver who liked to honk his horn and kept turning off the air conditioning until even the locals were dripping in sweat and demanding that he turn it back on. We stopped in Casa where I got off to go to the bathroom. The boy who was selling tickets on the bus helped me find the bathroom. He kind of watched over me. The bus seemed to stop in random places along the road to let people on and off—we couldn’t figure it out.
At Rabat we took a petit taxi to the Hotel Royal, a mid-level hotel in our guidebook—fortunately they had room for us. We even had a choice of rooms—both of them were shown to us to choose from. We chose the one with the double bed—our first. After washing up, we went out to dinner. We had targeted La Clef on the way to the railroad station to buy our tickets to Tangier, but there was a scuffle of some sort going on when we returned. So we went to another restaurant, inaptly named La Bamba, where we had a very elegant meal for 300 DH—I tried pastilla (chicken or pigeon in between layers of crispy pastry, slightly sweet). Philip had tajine again. We also had harira, a traditional soup somewhat like minestrone. I had Moroccan salad (tomatoes and onions and peppers all mixed up). For dessert: oranges for me (like in Marrakesh) and cookies with mint tea for Philip. I had a coffee, too. We were treated very well, and there were nice linens on the table.
The Royal Hotel in Rabat
After dinner we walked into the souq area—mouth-watering smells of food cooking over open fires—corn, skewers, you name it. Smoke curled up into the open air above the cooks. It was an experience to walk down Rue Souika, one of the main streets of the medina: meat hanging from hooks, cheap clothing, plastic bags, food stuffs in bulk. It was our introduction to Rabat and not unlike the other medinas we had been in—but this was our first time in a medina by ourselves. But in Rabat they tended to leave us alone, except for a couple of bad experiences.