Our flight to Casablanca was like riding the chicken bus only in the air…the airport is nicer than Lisboa though. A train took us an hour to the city where we checked into our 4 star chicken coup. We tried to find a place to eat and it was the holliday of “The Killing of the Lamb” so everything was closed. Some guy named Mufasa agreed to take us to dinner if we bought him a coffee. He took us to an expensive place which we were sure he got a cut. Afterward we told him we were going to the Medina and he agreed to take us. On the way to the souq we went by the public hammam (bathhouse) where a guy in the boiler-room was sawing a sheeps head with a rusty old saw. In the souq, we were the main event (I stood out everywhere in Morocco because I am white (rich).

After we survived the 500 pickpocket attempts in the souq, Mufasa took us back to the hotel where he asked us for 200dh for wine and couscous (he wanted to have us over for dinner).  Luckily I got out of the “tour guide” scam with only 30dh bill and being called a liar.

The next day we were a little more street wise, though we knew that we wanted to be somewhere other than Casablanca.  We went to the Hassan II mosque, the largest outside of Mecca, got a mint tea and jumped on the train to Marrakech.