The last 5 days have been a roller coaster! I left Capetown at 8am on Sunday, and after 4 flights I landed in Casablanca on Monday at 9:30 in the morning. I was exhausted, and not quite ready to launch myself into the Casablanca madness – so I was glad that I had arranged a shuttle pick up with my hotel. I made my way to the arrivals area and walked around all the guys holding signs looking for my name….but saw no one for me. I waited, and waited but nothing. Finally I decided to call the hotel. But of course – the pay phones didn’t work. Eventually some guy approached me in English and asked if I needed help. He offered to call the hotel for me on his cell phone. Rule number 1: do not talk to people that walk up to you and offer help. I know this rule, but I was tired and desperate. I didn’t want to have a mix up with the shuttle that I would get charged for AND still pay for a taxi, so I called. They said I could either take a taxi, or the shuttle driver would be there in half an hour. I opted not to wait, and the oh-so-helpful man helped me to get a taxi – and then got mad when I only offered him 20 dirham. He wanted 50 (about $5.70 US). I was in no mood to argue.

I settled into the taxi, and thought about the things I would have to get done that day. The taxi driver made some conversation about how long I would be in Morocco, and where I was going. I mentioned I had to go to the bus station that afternoon to get a ticket to Chefchaouen for the morning, and he said they were closed because it was Ede (3 days of celebration after Ramadan). He offered to take me to get a ticket somewhere he knew. Sounded fishy to me – no thank you. Then he asked how many people I would be traveling with because it may not be that much more expensive to hire a car (of course I lied and said 2). He said it would be 1,500 dirham. A bus ticket was 150 dirham – no thanks. At last we got to the hotel, and he said it was 350 dirham for the ride. Except the “helpful” man from the airport said it would be 300 dirham. Welcome to Morocco.

After I got to the hotel I showered, changed, and was ready to face the world. First order of business was to sort out the bus ticket. The bellman Hassan showed me where the CTM bus station was just down the street. Guess what? They weren’t closed after all. BUT, the bus was sold out, and I would have to wait until the next day. I didn’t want to give up just yet, so I went back to the hotel to see if they knew of another way to get to Chefchaouen. My man Hassan came to the rescue, flagged me a taxi, told the driver to take me to the “private” bus station, go inside with me to get me a ticket, and then take me back to the hotel. Success! I got a ticket for the 9:30 bus, and was told to be at the counter at 9.

The next morning I got there early and stood near the closed ticket counter looking for the guy. I stood until about 9:15 watching people lined up talking, then walking away, then coming back. I was starting to worry. Absolutely no one spoke English and most of the signs were in Arabic, so I couldn’t even read the places etc. I walked up to someone with my ticket in hand and just asked “Chefchaouen”? A man brought me the back of the building where the busses were, dropped me in front of a group of people, and left. This was not going well at all, and I was going into full panic mode. I turned to a lady and again said “Chefchaouen”? She shook her head, but someone behind her said yes, and spoke some English! I said I was sticking with her! She and her friend looked after me, and helped me exchange my ticket for the 1pm bus. We went inside to wait, and I noticed periodically a man would walk through the building shouting the names of places “Fez”, “Tangier” etc, and people would run after him with their luggage to get to the right bus. Finally the Chefchaouen man came and we hustled across the parking lot, put our luggage in, and got our seats (me directly in front of the two friendly ladies). Whew! Except when they started up the bus there was a loud bang. It broke. We waited for two hours on the bus in 95+ degree heat with no AC, and couldn’t really be sure that they would ever fix the bus, or get a new one. While we were waiting guys would walk through the bus selling water, watches, fans etc. One guy walked up and brusquely dumped a handful of candy bars into my lap. The ladies (Amara and Bouchra) shooed him away, then laughed and said “Don’t worry, we’re your 2 police women”. Finally there was an encouraging rumble the bus, the engine started and we were off!

The bus ride was 6 hours, no AC, and crowded. The bus driver stopped a couple of times to pick up a couple more people, and they were sitting in the aisles. At some point one of the guys working on the bus got out, and climbed into the storage area under the bus. To take a nap? I don’t know. He got back out, and back to work an hour or so later. My two police women chatted with me on the ride, and played music on their phone. When we finally arrived around 9 they helped me get my bags, walked me to my hotel across the street, and sat down for cookies and tea. After I was settled they gave me their phone number to call the next day.

The next afternoon I called them and they spent the rest of the day with me. We went to Akchour which was about a half an hour out of the city. It was crowded with people and cars backed up as we approached. We walked down to the water, and walked around for a little while. There is a beautiful waterfall and natural bridge-like rock formation I’ve seen pictures of. None of us knew to prepare for that kind of hike, so we just cooled off in the water. That evening they invited me to dinner, and I spent most of the next day with them as well. It may seem like I rambled on a lot about the difficulties in Casablanca (and there were a million more I didn’t tell), but it was only to put some perspective on how relieved I was to meet these two. I would have been lucky to meet them anyway, but after all that craziness in Casablanca, to have them looking after me meant so much. They were patient, funny and fake-bickered like sisters. They made sure my hotel was up to par, helped me get my bus ticket to Chefchaouen, helped me exchange my departing ticket – I could go on and on. They even gave me some gifts to take with me, and treated me to get my hand henna-ed. They were a discerning pair – I knew if something/someone got their seal of approval I could trust it (people, hotel, shopping etc).

Bouchra and Amara left today, but instructed me not to talk to anyone at the bus station, and to call when I got to Marrakech. Amara even made me promise to call when I get to Casablanca so she could pick me up from the bus station, and take me to the train station for Marrakech. I have two angels looking over my shoulder in Morocco. And one friend from New York I’m very excited to meet up with in Marrakech tomorrow! Some pics of my friends below. Note the straw Chefchaouen hats.

After all of that I didn’t even get to tell you about Chefchaouen! It’s in the North West of Morocco, in the shadow of mountains, and is known because of the blue color they paint a lot of the buildings. The people here are much easier on tourists than in Casablanca. After my friends left I had no problem on my own. As a woman walking around alone I got minor attention, and was followed by one guy for a bit – but I never felt threatened or uncomfortable. Pasting a couple pics below. Sadly the one picture I got of the city was out of focus you get the idea.