I purchased my ticket to Marrakech, Morocco, early in the semester, and I had been counting the weekends until my departure ever since. During the last two-plus months, I’ve had the privilege to visit some of Europe’s most beautiful sites, but northern Africa was an entirely new experience for me.
On the morning of my flight, I rushed through my exam and walked with a friend to meet up with our Bla-Bla Car driver. We opted for a rideshare instead of a train because of time constraints, but confusion at Charleroi, Belgium still ended with us missing our flight. It seems these trips are never quite stress-free.
We considered our options and decided to purchase one-way tickets to Casablanca, Morocco’s economic lifeblood and largest city with a population of more than four million people. Casablanca is seated on the Atlantic Ocean southwest of Rabat, the Moroccan capital.
Between 1912 and 1955, Morocco was a French colony, and this influence is still apparent. Along with Arabic, French is a widely spoken language across many of Morocco’s more urban areas.
Once we had finally arrived, hours later than originally planned, our AirBnB host recommended a traditional Moroccan restaurant blocks away from his home. The streets were unsettlingly quiet for a Friday night, and the restaurant was empty.
The grumbling in my stomach overpowered my apprehensions about eating at a deserted restaurant. I ordered tajine aux pruneaux, a staple in Moroccan cuisine which is cooked in the same ceramic platter in which it’s served, and I was not disappointed.
Few items on the menu were more expensive than 70 dirhams, which converts to $7. Overall, between the $2 cab rides and cheap eats, I found Morocco to be extremely affordable.
The next day, we purchased train tickets to Marrakech, a popular tourist destination a few hours south of Casablanca.
One area in which Morocco lacks is its infrastructure. The train to Marrakech was more than 90 minutes late, and none of the employees were able to provide any additional information regarding its arrival.
When it finally did arrive, it was standing room only for the entirety of the four-hour trip. I also found that Moroccans have a much different idea of what constitutes personal space.
In the compartment next to me sat a family with a few small children. The children would periodically walk outside the compartment and complete strangers would pick them up and cradle them. People were generally very genial and friendly, but this would be a bit strange to most Americans or Europeans.
The hostel in Marrakech was located in the medina, which translates to city or town in Arabic. Many north African cities have medina quarters, which are typically characterized by their narrow streets and religious sites. As opposed to Marrakech’s touristic new town, the medina is home to much more authentic Moroccan culture.
Before my return flight Sunday, I went on a guided tour of Ouzoud Falls in the Atlas Mountains a few hours northeast of Marrakech. The cool waters of the falls offered a respite from the blistering heat, and the indescribable vistas were among the highlights of the weekend.
Of course, 48 hours is not nearly enough time to properly experience a culture as rich as Morocco’s. I regret not having more time to enjoy the cuisine, culture and people, but the trip, missed flight and all, was well worth it.
