Casablanca in 6 hours.

As I breathe out in anticipation of once again being up to date with my blog, I notice it fogs up in front of me. And I'm inside. Yeah, it's cold.
Moving on.

Casablanca, city of nice architecture

Today Lexy and I had a bit of a girls day out, travelling to Casablanca for the afternoon. However, not much can be said of Casablanca. In hindsight, it's one of those things you do because you're in Morocco, not because it's anything really spectacular. You know you're onto a winner when Lonely Planet lists the architecture as a highlight. However, in the 6 hours it took for us to feel as if we'd seen it all, I had my first "wow" moment of my trip. It takes a lot to make me speechless, but the Mosque Hassan II achieved this in a matter of seconds, and lasted for most of the duration of our stay.

Pretty door is pretty.

The Mosque Hassan II is incredible. I'd give it a 5/5. I have never seen anything like it and the pictures just do not do it justice. It is the third biggest Mosque in the world; the building itself holds an amazing 25,000 worsippers and the squares around it can hold a further 80,000. Every time you look at it, you notice something different; the light will hit at a specific angle and something else will sparkle that you didn't notice before-more tiling, different carvings or more impressions. As a Christian, even though I couldn't enter the main building (we missed the tours, OOPS), the power and tranquility of this place of worship was awe inspiring.

It's so big. 25,000 people inside and 80,000 outside.

As we got out of the petit taxi, we were greeted by an expanse of sandstone and marble in the grand square, leading up to multiple sets of giant doors and arches filled with carvings, intricate mosaic tiling in the most brilliant azure blue and light green, gold detailing and of course the 210m tall minaret from which the call to prayer is played. Words cannot fully describe the power of the Mosque Hassan II, just as pictures cannot do justice to it's size and the sheer brilliance. The Mosque is not without controversy, as some people argue that the $500-$800million dollars that was spent on it could have been better directed into other areas, such as being put towards the slum dwellers that were evicted so it could be built.

The sheer size and opulence is overwheming.

When we were not marvelling at the Mosque, we were wandering. Seriously, we got a bit lost. Taking twists and turns of the medina we spied some of the architecture that Lonely Planet found so fascinating, and I'll admit it was at times. At one stage it was of a Romantic French style, all wrought iron balconies and white-wash stone that would've been magnificent in it's heyday. We had lunch as this gorgeous little restaurant called Ifrane (that took us an hour and a half to find-we used maps and asked for directions and everything), that was once again french inspired and slightly more western. After being ripped off by a taxi driver we found that the arts centre we wanted didn't seem to be open, whilst it's hours stated it should've been, so we walked to some gardens for a bit of a gander.

I get the feeling that tourists don't go to those gardens often, as we quickly became attractions in our own right, garnering more attention that the scenerey. On our way back to the train station we passed more protests, but there were no riot police present this time (thankfully).

So much wealth.

I find such irony in Casablanca. That so much money can be poured into a single monument, which whilst undoubtedly amazing (and needed in an otherwise boring city) is the focal point of a city that is for the most part, run down and either under construction or demolition. Roads as we know them are unkempt, rubbish is swept into piles on the side-walk, and the medina quickly turns from nice stalls into dingy backstreets that you wouldn't walk alone in at night. That there are beggars lining certain roadsides and hawkers selling everything from small bubble guns to single tissue packs, on a roadside where BMW and Audi 4WDs are parked.

I didn't dislike Casablanca, but again I'm finding more and more juxtapositions. With wealth comes poverty; there is a cycle that seems for the most part to be hidden, yet you are confronted by as soon as you wander off the tourist track.

We finished our day with a brush of Royalty. As we were walking out of Le Gare (the train station) we were greeted by the police and security holding people off the roads and blocking other cars from entering. The King then proceeded to drive down Ave Mohammed V in his procession waving from the top of the car. I think the locals thought we were a bit crazy, as we got a bit excited and were laughing quite loudly, but it was fun.

I've included a few photos, but in the next "recap" post I'll iclude more, including the brush with Royalty. Until next time.

Clem xx