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Mythical Moroccan Memories

Chronicles of my travels through Morocco, one of the most romanticised places on earth– with its magical Medinas, mountains, coast, desert, and heady cocktail of history.



There are no two ways about it: Morocco is one of the world's most mythologised destinations. Once you visit, there remains absolutely no doubt that this claim is undeniably true. Geographically in Africa but culturally Arab today, it is part Berber, part Ancient Roman, part French, part Spanish, and part Portugese– in short, it’s a microcosm of some of the most fascinating civilisations that have existed. Sitting at the crossroads of Europe and Africa has made Morocco an unfairly rich blend of all these influences, and a trip here is full to the brim with fine history, culture, architecture and food.


Just the thought of Marrakech, Fez, Tangier and Casablanca exotically thrills the senses, spicing up one's imagination.

Having already seen Marrakesh in style, while visiting for my friends' extraordinary destination wedding in 2014, my main agenda this time was to spend eight days exploring the rest of the legendary land. I had quite a lot of ground to cover, and was greatly aided in my quest by my warm and wonderful host in the capital Rabat—an old and close family friend–the then Indian Ambassador to Morocco, Kheya Bhattacharya. She helped me chalk out my entire itinerary and make all the local arrangements. Her expertly knowledgeable secretary Abdulsalam was instrumental in my finding the right driver, Rachid, and suitable accommodation throughout the course of the trip. Morocco has fantastic tourist infrastructure, with most of the important sights easily accessible by road, so a car was the most convenient mode of transportation for the bulk of the journey. 

I landed at Casablanca's Mohammed V International airport, where I was received and taken straight to my host's home in Rabat, less than an hour's drive away. The Indian Ambassador's residence is a lovely villa with abundant lawns, complete with a swimming pool. My accommodation was a generous independent guest house at the bottom of the lawn, far bigger and more comfortable than many hotel suites. I had a most enjoyable meal, surrounded by the glorious Moroccan interiors of Her Excellency's dining room, and learnt a great deal about what to expect during the trip. 

I set out to explore Rabat the next morning. One of Morocco's lesser known destinations, the city is calm and charming. It is located on the Atlantic Ocean, at the mouth of the Bou Regreg River. Rabat was founded in the 12th century as a military settlement, but gradually declined, becoming a haven for pirates by the 17th century. It was chosen by Morocco's French colonial masters as the administrative centre for their protectorate established in 1912, and has served as the Kingdom's political capital since– although it is one of four imperial cities, with Marrakesh, Fez and Meknes being more popular amongst tourists. I visited the UNESCO world heritage Andalusian style Medina with its delightful souks, and already had all kinds of touts flogging their wares at me. I must say, this was good preparation for what was to come later! 


The Oudaias Kasbah was a big draw, and I enjoyed meandering through its lanes, with great views over the Atlantic. The crumbling ruins of 14th century Chellah, with its mausoleums, was also most interesting. It is home to some excavated Roman ruins, and covered in foliage that hosts nesting storks—a curious sight I had never seen before. Revered King Mohammed V's glittering mausoleum is a major landmark, built at the site where he held prayers upon his return from exile, around the time of Morocco's independence in 1956. His son, the autocratic ruler Hassan II and father of the present king Mohammed VI, is also buried here. Non-Muslims cannot enter the mosque at the site, but can observe the tomb chamber from above (but only if conservatively dressed). The unfinished 12th century Hassan tower is right next door. We then briefly explored Ville Nouvelle or the 'New City' area, including the grand walls of the royal palace. The Dâr-al-Makhzen, built in 1864, is the main and official residence of the King of Morocco. It is officially called the El Mechouar Essaid Palace, which means "venue of happiness", and remains closed to visitors. We also drove around the historic satellite town of Salé for an alternative view of Rabat, and to witness the Atlantic Ocean intensely lash at the Moroccan coast. 


Following a sumptuous lunch at the house, my host decided to take me to Casablanca. She had a cousin visiting–also a diplomat, but from the US—and our drive into Casablanca felt much shorter than my initial drive into Rabat, thanks to the interesting conversation about Indian and American politics. Our first stop was the Hassan II mosque, which has truly epic proportions and juts out over the Atlantic Ocean. Completed in 1993, it is one of the largest mosques in the world, and at 210 metres, it has the second tallest minaret around. The 60-storey minaret is topped with a laser directed towards Mecca. It cost over 500 million Euros to build, with much of the funding raised through public contributions. Ten thousand people are said to have been involved in the construction and design. The finest available material was sourced from different parts of Morocco, with the exception of some Italian stone and glass chandeliers. The obvious perk of visiting with the Ambassador was the fact that we got one of the most informative guides, and he painstakingly showed us all the features of the important halls and chambers. 


As they say, "Everybody comes to Rick's", and of course, so did I! That too on my very first day in Morocco...and I would have it no other way. Given that I’ve worshipped the film ‘Casablanca’ since I first saw it as a teenager, it’s so fitting that I got the chance to visit the place almost eight decades on from the film’s release during World War II—So what if it was shot entirely on a studio lot in California?! Rick’s Cafe in modern-day Casablanca is designed to reproduce fine details from the film’s set, including the piano Sam plays ‘As Time Goes By’ on, the band, the gambling table, the bar Rick makes the “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world..." statement at, and so much more. Terrific original posters adorn the walls, while the film plays on a screen non-stop in one of the rooms, immortalizing Bergman and Bogart. We enjoyed some great refreshments as I paid homage to my love of the film and its stars, and was told about the lady American diplomat who founded the fabled haunt. 

The Portugese called the area Casa Branca, meaning "White House", which was later changed to Casablanca by the Spanish. The original whitewashed Medina is noteworthy, and here are structures here dating back to the Portugese era. One can see such sites as the French Governor’s mansion, the office used by the Germans during the occupation (where the characters of the film would have had to go to obtain their prized exit visas!), and many fascinating colonial buildings. Elsewhere in the city, the old port and Place Mohammed V with its imposing colonial buildings are hard to miss. Downtown Casablanca is now of course a throbbing business centre, and it is only around the medina and waterfront that the nostalgia one associates with the iconic film remains to be found. We returned to Rabat following this memorable excursion. 

I had a 6 am start the next morning, following a large breakfast, as this was going to be an action packed day with big distances to cover. After four hours of non-stop driving, my first destination was the incredibly picturesque small town of Chefchaouen. It is situated inland, nestled in the Rif mountains, and is famous for its buildings painted in varying, vibrant hues of blue. The town was founded by local rulers in the 15th century, in order to fight Portugese invasions of Northern Morocco. It became part of Spanish Morocco in 1920, and was handed over only after independence. Nature could not have planned my arrival in Chefchaouen more beautifully, for as I drove towards the town, it started to drizzle. A gigantic rainbow appeared across the horizon, making the panoramic view from a distance, with all its blue all the more appealing, despite the grey skies. While it wasn't ideal weather to explore the town, I had little choice and serious time constraints. I started at the defensive fortress, around which the Medina grew. From here, I could see an alternative view of the rooftops, and the octagonal minaret of the grand mosque. I enormously enjoyed the hours I spent getting lost among the unending maze of narrow, winding blue streets, with their delightful doors, stairs, courtyards and dead-ends. 

There are several myths regarding the blue colour of the buildings, and there is no agreement on the actual origin. One story is that a large number of Jews populated the town in the middle ages, with an even greater influx from those fleeing Europe centuries later during the second world war. So, the walls were painted blue in accordance with Jewish custom and culture, as the colour represents the sky—therefore heaven and god. Considering the historic tensions between the Jews and Muslims, I find it hard to swallow that the majority non-Jewish population would have replicated the Jewish practice of painting buildings blue intentionally, and even maintained things that way following the exodus of Jews from the region after the creation of the state of Israel. Other theories claim that it was simply done to keep the buildings cool, to represent soothing water, and to keep mosquitoes away (as the buildings would look like flowing water!). Sceptics say it was done to attract tourists, and while this may not be why the practice originated, it certainly might be the only reason it continues. 


I left the mysteries of the blue behind, driving onwards to titillating Tétouan, about an hour's drive away. A major port on the Mediterranean sea, it is nicknamed 'the white dove' because of the white colour of its historic buildings and charming UNESCO world heritage listed medina, originally founded in the 13th century. The city served as the capital of the Spanish protectorate of Morocco, and was handed over following independence in 1956. I spent only a few hours here, but practically experienced three different seasons during that time: Elements of a cold winter as I arrived, a sudden downpour, and then bright summer sunshine which made the whitewashed buildings gleam. It was quite the sight to behold. 


My final stop for the day, as well as my resting place for the night, was glorious Tangier. Here, I checked into the pretty, dramatically situated 'Hotel Continental' perched at the top of a cliff overlooking the Atlantic—accessible only by car from the back or very steep stairs at the front. Built in 1870 and one of the oldest hotels in Tangier, it has served many famous residents, including Winston Churchill and Edgar Degas. My driver Rachid was by this point pretty shocked at my pace–he had not previously come across such a tough customer, who wanted to see two major towns in one day, and didn't stop for multiple meals and tea breaks every few kilometres! My next demand was that he find me a good place for dinner, accompanied by Shisha, which turned out to be a much harder task than anticipated. It seems that although so-called 'Moroccan' lounges serving the famous water pipe can be found on many street corners across Europe, they are not particularly popular with the locals! There are fancy places in Marrakesh and Fez that keep it to cater to starry eyed foreigners, but some locals, I am told, prefer smoking their homegrown Hashish! After a great deal of asking around, we found an appropriate place in the city centre that served my standard grape-mint flavour, and allowed me to bring in a take-away of my choice. It happened to be the eve of the Prophet Muhammad's birthday, so much of the night was spent listening to prayers emanating from the loudspeaker of a nearby mosque–all part of the local experience, I suppose! 

The next day was spent exploring Tangier, one of the most fascinating and romanticised cities in the world. It has a unique and rich history spanning Berber, Phoenician, Roman and European colonial eras, known as 'Tingis' in Roman times. When the great powers of Europe resolved the 'Moroccan Question' and divided the nation's territory amongst themselves, Tangier became an autonomous international city-state, technically neutral. It is a major port, and the architecture has tremendous Spanish, as well as French influences. At the nexus of so many societies, it was a meeting place for authors, spies, and diplomats during the 20th century. 

I walked through the Grand Socco or "main square" to the fabulously preserved Kasbah with endless views of the blue waters, and was successful in locating what is said to be the tomb of the medieval scholar and explorer, Ibn Battuta, hidden in the depths of the Medina. I visited the Old American Legation, established in 1821 as the United States' first ever diplomatic outpost. The Ville Nouvelle with its fine colonial buildings and iconic cafes around the Terrasse de paresseux or "terrace of the idle" was an important pit-stop to enjoy the spectacular ocean views that have been said to have inspired many European artists. Tangier's glamorous heyday, when these streets and sandy beaches were packed with artists and aristocrats, may be gone, but the nostalgia hangs thick in the air. 


A good many hours were also spent outside the city. We drove past a large royal estate and some extravagant sea-facing mansions, with the first stop being Cape Spartel, the Northwestern most tip of Africa where the Atlantic ocean and Mediterranean sea meet. The Cape has a lovely lighthouse and panoramic views towards the Straits of Gibraltar. They say that on a completely clear day, you can see the Rock of Gibraltar itself—but I did not have any such luck. I visited the Grottes d'Hercules or 'Caves of Hercules', a fantastic cave complex located here. It has two openings—one from land, and one to the sea, which is fantastically shaped like the map of Africa! Legend has it that Hercules used his superhuman strength to blast through the rocks and  take a short-cut through the mountain—rather than go over or around it—thus creating the Africa shaped opening and the Straits of Gibraltar. The Rock of Gibraltar is supposed to be part of the original mountain. Another theory states that Hercules narrowed this part of the ocean to create the straits, in order to prevent monsters from the Atlantic ocean from being unleashed into the Mediterranean! It is also held by some that the Phoenicians created the sea opening shaped like the African map, so it appears that way when viewed from the ocean. Presumably, we will never know! However,  the sight and sound of the ocean waves repeatedly crashing through the Africa-shaped opening is really phenomenal. 



I continued driving onwards to fabulousFez, where I spent the night. The first half of the next day was dedicated to exploring Fez, one of the oldest and most legendary cities on the planet. Truly a very special place, it was founded in the 9th century, and is home to the world's oldest continuously functioning university—Al Quaraouiyine established in the year 859. Non-Muslims cannot visit the Quaraouiyine mosque, but I enjoyed a good view of it from a nearby rooftop. I entered the old city through the iconic 'Blue Gate' (the other side is actually green!) and had a guided visit of the spectacularly grand UNESCO listed Medina. It was absolutely bursting with history, not to mention many oriental curiosities on sale all around. 

This is said to be the world's oldest Medina, and she has aged like fine wine. It’s safe to say that you can find pretty much anything available in Morocco in the souks here. It was quite amusing to see every possible Bollywood film, old and new, being sold in pirated DVD format, right there in the inner depths of the old city. This was touristy Morocco at its loudest, flashiest best, and yet, despite the touts and the noise, the character and energy of the place were mind boggling. I peeked into some gorgeous Madrasas, with their intricate detailing. 

I visited one of the world famous tanneries manufacturing the softest leather anywhere. This is quite an experience, as long as one is prepared for the awful smell that accompanies the tour. I was told about the different processes that go into making the leather, and then climbed several flights of steep stone steps and a rickety makeshift ladder onto the rooftop of the tannery for some great pictures of the surroundings, in addition to watching the animal skins being dyed. It was pretty hard getting out of the tannery without buying anything, as they were trying to pedal every kind of product to me, but I made my excuses and left the Medina, moving on to an incredible artisans' centre where I watched the craftsmen make fine mosaics and ceramics. There is yet another grand royal palace here, closed to the public, and we briefly passed through the newer parts of the city before making our way out of Fez.


Next up was Volubilis. This excavated city is considered the ancient capital of the Berber Kingdom of Mauretania, which stretched from Algeria to here and westward to the Atlantic. The city developed in the 3rd century BC under the Berbers, and then grew rapidly under Roman rule around the 1st century AD. The amazing ruins include major public buildings—a basilica, temple and triumphal arch. This was a prosperous city, located in a fertile region that has been home to olive cultivation since ancient times. It contains ruins of the fine large town houses of wealthy merchants, with exquisitely preserved mosaic floors. The city fell to local tribes, and was abandoned by Rome due to its remote location at the Southwestern border of their empire. It gradually became an Islamic settlement, as the seat of Idris I, founder of the Idrisid dynasty, and was eventually abandoned when the seat of power shifted to Fez. Much of the local population moved to Moulay Idriss Zerhoun, just five kilometres away, and stones from here were transported to build structures there. UNESCO has listed Volubilis as an important world heritage site for being "an exceptionally well preserved example of a large Roman colonial town on the fringes of the Empire".


You can see Moulay Idriss Zerhoun perched upon a hilltop, from Volubilis down below, and it makes for an impressive sight. I then went on to visit it, and had a little wander through the city. It is the holiest city in Morocco, established in the 8th Century when Idris I arrived in the country and set up the Idrisid dynasty. He was the great great great grandson of Prophet Muhammad, and is considered the founder of the first proper Moroccan state. It was during the Idrisid period that Islam started spreading widely across Morocco. He is buried here, hence the city’s holy status. Until 2005, non Muslims could not spend the night in the town, and the mausoleum still remains closed to non-Muslims, although we are allowed to take a glimpse through the gate. They say that six trips to Moulay Idriss are equal to one Hajj in Mecca, and locals throng the mosque on a daily basis. My driver was not convinced about the draw of the place, and was trying to persuade me to not go at all, which seemed silly, considering we were only five kilometres away. Since he was not familiar with the lanes here, I had to haggle with a local teenager who took me for a walk up the hill, and showed me the view over the mosque, minarets and rooftops. 

We moved on to Meknes, where I had just about enough time to stroll around and see the main sights. The most spectacular was the Bab al-Mansour, a magnificent gate connecting the medina and imperial city. It is considered one of the finest surviving examples of gateways in North Africa, with its intricate tiles and carving. It was early evening, so the gigantic market square near this gate was bustling with activity, as the locals went about their daily shopping. I could not visit the famous Mausoleum of Moulay Ismail of the Alawite dynasty, founder of Meknes, as it was closed for renovation, but I walked through the imperial city and a part of the Medina. I also had a quick look at the Museum of Moroccan Art, housed in the 19th century home of a prominent local family: It retains traditional Moroccan decor, with its painted wooden interiors, giving one a good idea of how rich Moroccans lived. It also has a charming Andalusian garden. I then started my long drive back to my host's home in Rabat.

After the tiring day, I was invited to dinner at another diplomat's home, where I learnt a great deal about local Moroccan traditions, more places to see, and international business interests in the country. I was fascinated to hear stories about the Moroccan royal family, particularly the beloved consort Princess Lalla Salma, from the guests. Frankly, little is known about them in comparison to the European monarchs the global paparazzi covers closely, even though they are far wealthier than many of those, and live an extremely opulent life. For instance, they allegedly spend $1.8 million a year on pet food! The King and consort have an interesting love story, as she is a commoner, and became the first Moroccan royal wife to have an official title and public role. She has mysteriously disappeared from public view over the past few years, and there is enormous speculation as to her whereabouts. Rumours are floating around that the couple have secretly divorced, are feuding, or perhaps that the family couldn't put up with a liberal Queen after all, and so she had to be locked up in a gilded palace. More, we will never know! 

A great deal of discussion revolved around Morocco being far more liberal than most countries in the Arab world, especially given the fact that they have a Monday to Friday work week unlike other countries with Islam as the state religion, and that they are culturally close to Europe in many ways. Indeed, the nation offers the best possible heady combination of European and oriental culture. One also hears little about Moroccan wine, since not much of it is exported. I am told the King tried to promote it in a big way once upon a time, until he was reminded by a well-wisher that he was a Muslim Monarch, and had to back down! 

I was on the road early again the next morning, for the tranquil town of Essaouira, which has a really charming vibe. It lies on western Morocco's Atlantic coast, and was known as Mogador in its early days. The 18th century Medina is, once again, a UNESCO listed heritage site, and is hassle free in comparison to the other Medinas I visited. My boutique hotel in the Medina organised a guide for me, who happened to be a local shopkeeper. The old city is fairly calm and quiet, despite its street vendors, and I was relieved not to find the Fez and Marrakech style bustle here. Perhaps the location and surrounding ramparts constantly lashed by the Atlantic waves make it more serene and oddly peaceful. The noisy fishing port is an unforgettable sight, chiefly due to the screeching of countless seagulls trying to get their claws and beaks into the day's fresh catch. The vibrantly coloured wooden boats make it all the more picturesque. The Jewish quarter, though crumbling, is worth a visit. It is a fine symbol of peaceful coexistence between the Muslims and the Jews, who once formed a thriving community here.


The honey-gold citadel and fortified city walls are a highlight: One can stand here and watch the Atlantic for ages. The cannon-lined ramparts are an iconic image in Morocco, and this spot is instantly recognisable to any 'Game of Thrones' fan, who will realise this is the town featured as Astapor in the popular series. The amazing Portugese architecture was also an important backdrop for the 1951 film version of 'Othello' by one of my favourite directors–Orson Welles of Citizen Kane fame. I topped off the day's adventure with a nice vegetarian tagine in the main square, and took one last languorous walk through the sleepy Medina before turning in. 


Yet another early start the next day: I was to return to Casablanca for a flight to Ouarzazate. I had initially planned to travel there by car, but because of harsh weather conditions causing treacherous roads in the high Atlas mountains, my host Kheya Aunty absolutely forbade it. Many alternative destinations were suggested, but I was devastated at the idea of not being able to go to the one place I was most eager to visit in the country, and had saved for last! Luckily, we managed to find an appropriate flight. I took a quick walk through Marrakesh, a two hour drive from Essaouira, en route to Casablanca. It was surreal to see the streets of the medina, which I had visited years ago, completely deserted at 8 am. Everything in Africa's largest city square, Jemaa el-Fnaa, was shut. Having experienced it completely packed, with barely enough room to move, I was aghast at the stark contrast from morning to evening. Since I had toured Marrakesh's wondrous tombs, madrasas, mosques, and even Yves Saint Laurent's elegant Jardin Marjorelle on my prior trip, this was just a short breakfast break. 


I made it to Casablanca well in time for my hopping flight to Ouarzazate. We landed first at picturesque Zagora airport, in the Sahara desert, just in time for a glorious sunset over the airport's traditionally designed golden buildings, which blended into the landscape. A short halt later, I was in Ouarzazate, being received by a local driver and on my way to Hotel La Perle du Sud, where I would spend the next two nights. 


Here, I was very warmly received by the manager. One had read about the legendary hospitality of the locals, but this town epitomised it. When I asked the friendly manager where I could find a vegetarian dinner in town, he personally drove me in his car to a friend's restaurant nearby, where I had home baked bread and sizzling fresh vegetable tagine. Further, the restaurant owner (who did not speak English) connected me via phone to his son in Casablanca, who informed me that his father was honoured to have an Indian guest over for dinner, and that whatever I ate would be completely complimentary! Embarrassed, I insisted I be allowed to pay, but they would hear nothing of it—truly remarkable. These were not rich people, but they were extremely large-hearted. I asked the restaurant owner to recommend a place for shisha, and again I found myself being personally driven to a venue where the young owner gave me VIP treatment. 

‘See Ouarzazate and die’ is not only a local saying in Morocco, but also the title of a famous travel book about the country. And Ouarzazate does not disappoint! It lies at an elevation of well over 1000 metres, at the heart of a bare plateau surrounded by the high Atlas mountains to the north and vast desert to the south. This legendary city, ‘Door to the Desert’, and entrance to the ‘Road of 1000 Kasbahs’ is home to an incredible landscape and enormous history. I started in the 19th century Kasbah Taourirt, the former palace of the El Glaoui ruler, the 'Pasha' of Marrakesh. The clan controlled major caravan routes in the region, and were  greatly empowered by the French, who relied on them to keep local tribes in check. The all powerful Pasha Glaoui of Marrakech held the region with the help of the pre-WW1 German cannons on display here, and turned against the Moroccan Sultan to help the French colonizers in exchange for greater influence. A part of the Kasbah has been restored, so tourists can see several rooms within the palace, as well as admire views over Ouarzazate


I then drove to the crumbling Kasbah Tifoultoute, a ruined fortress just a few kilometres away. This site is 300 years old, and served as a resting place for the cast and crew of 'Lawrence of Arabia' nearly 60 years ago. It was almost surreal to see palm trees in such close vicinity of snow-clad mountain peaks!



The crowning glory was the Ksar of Ait Benhaddaou, at 27 kilometres from town. This is a fortified village along the former caravan route through the Sahara, and the buildings are made of earthen clay. While the strategic site is said to have been fortified since the 11th century, the current buildings are from the 17th century and later. As you behold the astounding Kasbah from across the river—or take it all in from multiple points either at the foot of the fortifications or from the top once you have climbed uphill—nobody could blame you if you imagined Aladdin would appear at any moment, jumping over the rooftops, or floating above it all on his flying carpet. The site is completely redolent with the romance of the Arabian Nights, and it is no wonder that this has been Hollywood's favourite filming location for decades. Some of the most memorable movies of all time, including 'Lawrence of Arabia', 'Gladiator' and 'The Mummy' have been shot here. Climbing up the hill and walking through the narrow lanes of the Kasbah is a unique experience I wouldn’t trade for anything. The views from the top and through the windows are incredible. A small number of families still live here, making a living through the tourist trade. No amount of pictures taken from any angle can do justice to the majesty of this place, though I certainly did try! And another fun fact: Ouarzazate and Ait Benhaddaou are known today for being ‘Yunkai’ and ‘Pentos’ in 'Game of Thrones'.

I asked my reluctant driver to make an inconvenient detour to another 'Game of Thrones' locale I learnt about while in town, Oasis Fint. Several kilometres of dirt road brought us to this laid-back spot, with its peaceful palm trees. I then visited Hollywood's backyard, Atlas Studios—the largest film studio in the world by area! It is surrounded by desert and endless vistas of stunning Atlas mountains. My guide here was himself an extra in 'Game of Thrones' ! He played an 'unsullied' soldier, and delighted in telling me how he was killed on screen! I then returned to Ouarzazate's city centre and walked through the town. As the sun set on the town square, the many wares of its vendors glinting in the golden light, I enjoyed roasted corn on the cob and was reminded of the same street food back home in India. I returned to the restaurant from the previous night for dinner: This time, I insisted that I pay for everything I consume, and thankfully, I succeeded.  



I took my flight back to Casablanca first thing the next morning, and returned to the house in Rabat. It felt great to be back, to be spoilt by my host and her amazing staff, to have my laundry taken care of, and so on. This was supposed to be a day of rest, but I was spontaneously offered a road trip to alpine Ifrane, a city in the Middle Atlas Mountains, so off we went following an early lunch. Most of the day was spent on the road leisurely traversing idyllic scenery I had by now gotten accustomed to. We had a quick bite at a roadside restaurant that evening, and returned to Rabat by bedtime. My Moroccan sojourn came to an end the following hectic morning, a Monday, as I made my way back through the now familiar traffic on the Rabat-Casablanca highway to catch my Royal Air Maroc flight out. I left with unforgettable experiences under my belt. 

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