Moroc, the rest of the story (part 2) - Great Dinner

Medina (old city), Rabat Morocco - Excellent Dinner in an alleyway

So a Medina is where all the 'old houses' or original city was. Typically walled in for protection and with lots of twisty alleyways. This was the only marker that indicated I was near the place for dinner. A 5 minute walk following this guy really started to get my Deja Vu feeling in high gear. Sure there were no bicycle cabs and whistle calls but still, where the heck was this place and who was this guy leading me there?

All I can tell you for sure is that easily 50% of the people we passed greeted this man formally (assalamu alaikum) and they weren't saying it to anyone else. Don't know for sure who this respected guy was but he did deliver me safely to the restaurant.

Outside wasn't much to look at - inside it was a lush, sensual dining place that normally (although sadly not this night) has Belly Dancing. I figured it would be touristy but locals where eating there. While it was my Hollywood version of a Moroccan place to eat - the food was FAB-U-LOUS. So just when you think Moroc has little to offer, it drops a big old bomb shell and you have to retract (somewhat) and at least give props when there due.

1-Charlie enjoys the atmosphere
2-An interior door - amazing craftsmanship
3-Some mood lighting, dramatic

So if you ever find yourself in Rabat and are hungry (and you will be hungry trust me) - please get into a cab and have them take you to this place. You won't be sorry - not one bit. And with all the rose petals everywhere and the great food, you won't even think for a minute about the smell of...
(yes, its the tea I wrote of in the first post from Day 1 in Rabat...)

Moroc, the rest of the story (part 1)

So I was probably not all that fair to Rabat (and this post to Casablanca) in my initial post. However, there was *very little* charm to either of these cities. Many of the Moroc Nationale told me over and over that Marrakesh was the place to go to see a charming city.

But that was too far and Casablanca was less than an hour away via a $4 (equivalent) train ticket purchase. As the train pulled into Casa, there was a man leaning against the wall relieving himself. For a moment I wish I had taken a picture, then thought to myself - that wouldn't be very lovely a blog pic. (It's sad when you only want to commemorate bloggable items and are constantly asking yourself 'is this bloggable'?)

Got off the train at the center of town in Casa and PEE-YEW did it stink. It stunk of hundreds of years of human and previous camel pee mixed with rotting fish from the wharf. Yup - welcome to a city that could have been the middle eastern equal to Trenton, NJ. The smell never left so it wasn't as if everyone in town used the same wall for a urinal that the man I saw was using. A city of 13+million people and at least that many run down cars as petite cabs.

After taking a few pics of the third largest (or as the locals say 'World's largest Mosque, number three') Mosque in the world. It was big and these pictures don't do it justice.

Casablanca Mosque, Moroc, R. Mann (c)

Well, after walking around and having a so-so breakfast of 'traditional Moroccan pastries' (awful sweet) and more walking around, I had the pleasure of 'sharing' a cab (common in Moroc) and being dumped no where near where I wanted to be. Lovely. More of that smell later and some trashy tourist shopping places to avoid, I found another cab at the local Hyatt. This was the traditional nicer Mercedes 190D that is used en mass in this country to signify a higher level of cab-ness.

This guy took me everywhere - all without a meter running. How nice of him. He waited patiently at each spot I wanted to stop and take pictures or look around. He greased the palm of some local Police agent so I could 'tour' this palace:


The policeman waved at the taxi driver as we pulled out - all very kind of this town. Then the cabbie said I should see ALL of Casa (what the locals call it when speaking to tourists, dropping the blanca and not calling it by its real, longer, harder name).

This meant taking me to the local meat market where I could see this (among other things I couldn't bear to take pictures of):
Yup, that's a camel head. 'Our viagra' he tells me. MAN WHAT CHARM I am getting exposed to... Then the cabbie dropped me at my final stop (below) and I ask 'What do I owe you?' for all his generosity and time driving. He says "Its up to you, whatever you'd like." so I pull out a 200monopoly money bill and some odd ends. He says "More please, 500." WTF? I paid a cab in Rabat for a trip and waiting all of 200. Oh well. Funk you very much Casa.

Anyway, after going by 'Rick's Cafe' (from the movie, opened about 5 years ago) where I got a picture of the waiters looking over a bill. To my 'lens' it could look sinister so I snapped this quick photo of them: Rick's Cafe - Casablanca, Moroc - R. Mann (c) 2008
After paying *WAY* too much for a mug ($26 after I *again* mess up the exchange rate in my head) it was definitely time to escape....er, head back to Rabat. Grab the train (they ran every 30 mins and were efficient I gotta point out) and viola, back 'home' for one more night.

And just as I was about to write of Morocco, I had one of the best dinners of my life. Certainly in the top 15 anyway. And it was classic from the start. Cabbie drops me off at the outskirts of town, waves to a man who then asks if I am there for dinner. I say yes and before anything else could be said, we are walking down the inner city alleyways.

Now those of you who have been reading this blog might say this sounds familiar. Going to a secretive dinner location, being taken there by a local, alleyways to be maneuvered... (See previous post for the story in Beijing). Read more of the story after this short (recharge the laptop battery) break...

*Ahem* - Greetings from Morocco

So far it's not that bad. Sure the cabbie reminded me of the guy in Casablanca (the movie, not the town, although I am only 20 miles away) that was gonna slip a scorpion in someones bed for some dinar (maybe it was the Hitchcock movie with Jimmy Stewart where he is on holiday and gets wrapped up in a murder/spy thriller...I can never remember the name and I am writing this 'offline' so no access to imdb.com - but you can look that one up. Or if you are Maddie reading this, you are saying the name loudly and frustrated I can't hear you...

Some of my impressions thus far
There is a constant smell of incense in the air although I cannot see where it is wafting in from. Sadly, the 'credit card' machine is down and I cannot check into the hotel yet so I am hanging out in the lobby. The tile motif (pictured above) is in all these alcoves and the hotel is serving free 'tea' to all of us waiting. The tea looks like something someone expelled and smells a bit like they ate some (A LOT) mint to get rid of the potent asparagus they had for lunch. Oddly enough - it taste better than that but those bubbles on the warm side won't go away and there is some sediment in the bottom of the cup.

Yup, not in Kansas anymore - or Paris for that matter. It might not surprise you to learn I have changed my late Friday afternoon flight out into a VERY EARLY Friday morning flight. From the airport here is what I know so far: there are palm trees everywhere, people are just milling about walking everywhere (even through what looked like private fields and yards), hitchhiking is apparently not illegal (when was the last time you saw a hitcher?) as I saw several folks doing this and the way to show someone you are in a hurry is to ride on their bumper for a while, and I mean ON THEIR BUMPER. I thought we were taking paint samples but no, we were just letting the slower folks in front of us know we no longer wanted to be behind them.

It seems desert-y except there are small bushes and trees of a few sorts and a pleasant wind is constantly about (at least so far). I recently realized the 'deserty' part is the fact that there is no grass to speak off anywhere. So while there are bushes and small trees, its the lack of grass that makes a desert, no? (Apparently there is grass but not the kind you walk on but turn into hashish. Haven't seen that yet thankfully)

This definitely feels like a foreign place and I feel like I stick out like an American arse in my shorts (I didn't get the 'everyone here wears cheaply made thin suits' memo) and my 'english' speaking tongue. Man have I got to learn French. Se la vie, I am here and going to enjoy this conference for all its worth. (will let you know what it was worth in a few days)

Then I am going to go back to my croissants and Musee D'Orsay just as fast as Air Chance...er France can get me there.

Paris in the Summertime...

I wont say how many shots I took to get this 'effect' but suffice it to say I was lucky to be alone.

Today I landed in Paris. Not yet hot, not yet full of tourists (but starting to show up) and the receptionist, who upon asking me 'Poly vou françois?', replied to my 'no' with "I am sorry."

Now, that could be considered rude but really its just being Parisien. Truth be told, I am sorry, too. Something to work on right after re-honing (and improving greatly) my Spanish.

After checking into Le Meridien Etoile and taking a power nap and then jet lag cleansing shower, I took Charlie and walked around a bit. Turns out Charlie wanted to see some of my favorite places and he was hungry, so I took him to 'Cafe Deux Magot'. This is my favorite area in Paris and one where I would like to get Maddie to agree to purchasing a studio flat in. Man oh man is this be best location:


View Larger Map

Its the arty district, right next door to the Latin Quarter for the music; EASY walking distance to both the Louvre and the Superior Musee D'Orsay. Lots of funky cafes (including my favorite) and now loads of high brow shopping: Louis Vuitton, Dior, Tiffany - all on the same 'corner'. (It's a five way intersection - there is a load of 'corners').

So after a Croque Madame, we (Charlie and I) wandered over to get a few shots of the Arch de Triumph. Paris knows how to light up a night time sky. I will spare you the hundred other shots I took that are almost identical to each other. No really I will.

Expect some updates as tomorrow I head to Morocco and then return to Paris for more fun. Check the Picassa page for more pics of Charlie and Paris.