Riad Majorelle
With no direct transport from Essaouira to Rabat, we had to catch the bus back to Marrakech and then transfer to the train. The transfer time in Marrakech was only 35 minutes, but the bus station and train station are next to each other, so plenty of time. If the bus was on time.
We arrived into Marrakech 15 minutes late so we scrambled to get our bags and make our way into the railway station…and chaos. People milling everywhere, signs in French and Arabic only and more than one place to catch a train. We finally worked out our train was one going to Fes with a stop in Rabat and followed the crowd through a door that my poor French read as ‘gate access’. We were allowed through once we showed our tickets so we were at least on the right track (pun intended).
The train carriages are well signed, so we managed to get to our seats easily and relaxed as the train moved out. We travelled first class in a cabin with four other people, so it was very comfortable. We booked our tickets in Essaouira through Supratours, who are a subsidiary of ONCF who run the trains. So far, all of our domestic travel has been well organised and has run on rails. The train made a number of short stops to pick up and drop off, with the most interesting and relevant one being Casa – our plan is to get the high-speed train from Tangier to Casablanca and then to transfer via train to the airport. With three train stations, we need to have a bit of an idea of what we are doing when the time comes, but that’s a future issue.
We arrived in Rabat on time, and managed to get off at the correct station and as it is only a 15-minute walk to our Riad we planned on walking rather than getting a taxi. As we exited the station and the chaos within, we stepped onto Mohammed V street to a vista of gleaming white buildings, wide streets and a cosmopolitan vibe. First impressions are excellent. Bravely, we followed the evil blue dot and headed in what we hoped was the right direction towards our Riad.
About fifteen minutes later, we entered the medina and continuing to have faith in the blue dot, we continued until we were told to turn right. The lane sign matched our address, and three helpful young men pointed us on, encouraging us that we were in the right place. We had arrived at Riad Majorelle all by ourselves and we were buzzed in and welcomed with lovely smiles, mint tea and Moroccan biscuits. It’s such a lovely way to be introduced to your accommodation. Our room looks comfortable, although again the bathroom is very small. The Riads are traditional homes, and to be retro-fitted to have bathrooms for each room would be a mammoth undertaking, not to mention the electrical work.
We hit the streets and were surprised to see that a lot of souks were already closed and most of the streets we walked down were very quiet. A huge change after Marrakech and Essaouira’s medinas. Eventually we wandered onto a busier lane and discovered de la Liberatione restaurant. Keen for some familiar food, we ordered steak and chips, not sure what we would be greeted with. When a plate piled with chips, rice, carrots and a char-grilled steak arrived, we attacked with gusto. While not the best steak we’ve eaten, the familiarity of the food after three weeks was very welcome. We are managing with the French – if English is spoken, it is basic, but our knowledge of Spanish and Italian seems to be keeping us from making massive gastronomical mistakes.
After the best Riad breakfast we have had, we set off to find and explore the Kasbah. The medina is bigger than Essaouira’s but still has an easy layout. The evil blue dot showed a straightforward walk to our goal, so we set off through the streets of the medina. On our way we stopped in at a pharmacy to restock our ibuprofen – 400 mg tablets! Thankfully, ibuprofen seems to be a universal word, so it was easy to get what we needed.
The walls of the Kasbah and its towers were easy to find and we wandered through one of the gates. No charge, although we did get trailed by a ‘guide’ who kept tagging us. Colin did well to politely dismiss him without it costing us too many dirhams. Left to our own devices we found the lookout and got a great overview of the Atlantic and the skyline stretching to what we think is the city across the river – Sale. There is a garden and a museum somewhere in the Kasbah, which was constructed in the 11th century. About 3000 people still live within the fortress walls, and it was fun wandering the winding, whitewashed streets. Hoping to find our way to the museum, we called on the evil blue dot to show us the way. Having helped us yesterday and this morning already, we hoped in vain that it’s magnanimity would hold out, but to no avail. Retracing our steps again and again we came across cafes and pretty lanes, but no museum.
The heat and humidity finally got the best of us, so we headed out the gate we came in and decided to try to find our way from the outside. Walking in through another gate took us back to the winding streets and a locked gate that clearly led to the gardens. Finally giving in, we decided to test the evil blue dot and try to find our way to Hassan Tower and the Mausoleum of Mohammed V. Over a couple of sugary drinks at a dodgy café, we contemplated getting a taxi, but by the time we got to somewhere to pick one up, we were already halfway to our destination.
Keeping the river to our left, we let Evil guide us and soon saw the tower not too far distant. Following other tourists we were dismayed to be stopped by locked gates. Tuesday seems to be a bad day for tourists in Rabat. Checking google we were assured the tower was open today, so we continued to brave the midday heat and kept walking. Not having trouble accumulating our steps!
Our persistence was rewarded when we were greeted by mounted guards to the gate leading into the grounds where the world’s largest mosque was started in the 12th century. It would have been impressive indeed if it had been completed. The tower and the mausoleum are well worth the visit and there is no charge.
After our success, we decided we really needed to cool down and our airconditioned room at the Riad beckoned. Calling on the evil blue dot again, we made our way back through the Medina for a well-deserved rest. On our wanderings we had discovered a bottle shop, so Colin hit the streets for beer and pastries. The beer was surprisingly good value at $12 for three 500ml Heinekins, and at 7 dirhams each, the cakes he returned with were delightfully delicious. Still not feeling up to a traditional meal, or keen to walk far, we headed out to enjoy another familiar meal at restaurant de la Liberatione. I tried the cordon bleu and while it’s not quite what we’re used to, it hit the spot. Colin’s hamburger looked like the real deal, so we both left happy with our choices.
After another recharging sleep, we decided to spend our last day in Rabat exploring the now open Kasbah Andalusian Gardens (named for one of the many cultures to have called Rabat home) and the Museum of Adornment. We’ve mastered the medina and retraced yesterday’s steps easily. The gardens are filled, typically of Moroccan gardens it seems, with fruit trees, roses and shrubs. Colin attracted the ire of one of the guards when he dared to get too close to the old well, but with minimal signage, it is difficult to know which areas are out of bounds. We enjoyed the tranquility and shade, escaping the heat of direct sunlight for a moment before heading into the museum.
We discovered that evil blue dot had been directing us to the garden yesterday, but not aware that they are closed on Tuesdays, all we got was barred wooden doors. Again, minimal signage. The entrance to the museum (also closed on Tuesdays) comes from the gardens and after paying the 70 dirhams entry, we walked through doors to what we hoped would be a blast of frigid air. Sadly, air conditioning seems to be set to about 27 degrees wherever we go, so it was still quite warm inside. The museum focuses on human adornments – jewellery, clothing and other decorations – with the first display showcasing artifacts dating back 150,000 years.
The museum is small and beautiful, with sections detailing jewellery worn by women, regional caftans and some weaponry. The adornments for women are complex and look dreadfully heavy, cast from silver and other metals, and sometimes gold, inlade with semi-precious stones. Morocco has, over the course of time, had a strong silver mining industry, and still has active silver mines. I’d love to get a piece of silver jewellery, but I have to admit I am nervous about getting something that is not real silver. I just don’t know enough about it.
The heat and humidity is knocking us around a bit, so we chilled in our riad until grumbling tummies (well mine; Colin ducked out for a sandwich for lunch) drove us out on the hunt for food. We strolled along sandwich lane seeking gastronomical inspiration and my curiosity was piqued by the cafes promoting ‘pasticcios’ – we haven’t seen them before and the photos looked appealing. Finding a busy café, we grabbed our seats, ordered and watched Rabat walking by.
I was delighted with my chicken pasticcio, which is basically a chicken and potato bake topped with melted cheese. Colin ordered a hot dog and that’s pretty much what he got. It’s always fun to see what the cafes have stocked and what they send their runners to get when you order off the menu; our drinks made their journey from the café’s local supplier (whereever and whoever that might be) – it’s a supportive business model that works.
Our after-dinner stroll took us past the ‘Otto’s’ of patisseries and out of the medina towards the tram lines where we discovered a large square filled with people enjoying the evening. The walls around the medina are extensive with gates piercing the fortress periodically. Our re-entry to the medina through Bab al Ahad Bab El Had was rather spectacular – it is one of the five gates built towards the end of the 12th century and it is believed criminals and murderers were beheaded in front of this gate, with their heads put on display on the crenelations. El Had means edge of the sword and the message was clear – crime in Rabat was not tolerated.
We’ve decided that Rabat is a very liveable city and have popped it onto our list of future longer stays. The people are kind and friendly and even though we are obviously tourists, we are merely invited into stalls rather than given the hard sell. A polite thank you but no is accepted gracefully; that seems to be the way for most interactions, even when it’s a harder push. I’ve found ‘maybe later’, a smile and walking away also works a treat.
With a 10.27am train departure, we enjoyed one more of the best breakfasts we’ve had (love the smoked turkey and cheese plate) and set off towards the railway station. A bit cocky, thinking we had the medina sorted, we set off – the wrong way! After walking much further than we should have, we realised we had turned left instead of right and had to retrace our steps to get back on track. Maybe evil blue dot would have saved us; or maybe not. Embarrassed, we rolled our luggage along the quiet streets and forged ahead to the station.
My experience with booking tickets online has been positive, but the booking fees are steep; up to 50% added to the fare. Not wanting to miss out on the fast train from Tangier to Casablanca on 18 August to connect with our flight to Porto, we got to the station early with a plan to purchase our tickets. My limited French guided me to the ticket counter and I managed to purchase our tickets with a minimum of fuss. A first class ticket at 243 dirhams for the two hour journey and another Moroccan experience, seemed more than reasonable, and I feel better knowing we have confirmed seats. Five hours in Casa should be plenty of time to get our transfers to the airport for the 4.00pm flight to Porto.
Thankfully, there are only two train lines at Rabatville, so we found a couple of empty seats to wait out the 40 or so minutes for the train. When a station attendant walked over and asked to see our tickets, we had a flutter of concern, but true to our experience of the Moroccan people, he was just helping and checking that we were in the right place. After encouraging us to follow him, he took us further along the tracks to other seats where our carriage would be pulling up – it certainly saved us a run to get to our carriage when the train arrived.
Goodbye Rabat – you have been a delight.