July 1: Mi Casa Es Su Casa En Casa
I couldn’t resist this play on words for the generous hospitality my hosts provided me with in their beautifully appointed home just south of Casablanca last night. I connected with Mosbah and her husband Abdou through my membership in the Women’s International Motorcycle Association and very much enjoyed the tour she gave me of one of the world’s most famous mosques.
Shortly after arriving in Mosbah’s small coastal town, she and I made a pit stop at the local mechanic’s shop and then headed to the Hassan II, the second largest functioning mosque in Africa and the 14th largest in the world.
The religious structure itself is beautifully situated on a promontory looking out over the Atlantic Ocean, its 689-foot-tall minaret the second tallest in the world and beckoning to worshipers with a laser light pointed towards Mecca.
Mosbah and I strolled around the grounds and explored the inner courtyards, taking in the beautifully handcrafted green and tan colored marble details. Families congregated in the shade created by the towering walls and many fountains and visitors posed for pictures.
I particularly enjoyed one scene of a father playing soccer with his two young sons inside an arched hallway, his wife wearing a traditional hijab and watching from a pilar while the bright blue sun shone through the curved openings in the wall behind them.
After our tour, Mosbah and I returned to her home where Abdou had a delicious meal waiting for us. We were joined by their daughter-in-law and English-speaking tenants, a couple and their son who were born in America but have worked most of their lives in a variety of places in Africa. Conversation flowed freely as we all described our histories and travels while eating chicken tandoori and salad.
In the morning, I headed north after a delicious breakfast of boiled eggs, Moroccan tea, and buttery fried Msemmen bread with apricot jam. The ride itself was rather unremarkable since time restraints made it necessary to take mainly toll roads. However, I was treated to several beautiful views of the African coast along the way.
The most challenging aspect of today’s journey was the two-hour detour I took through downtown Tanger to track down a book written in English to use on my upcoming three days at sea.
I had to chuckle as I tried valiantly to keep me and the bike in one piece in one traffic snarl after another in the congested shopping areas. Motorcyclists, cars and buses careened towards me heading the wrong direction in my lane and others sped towards me from the sides, using brute force to cross directly in front of my path with no right of way. I thought that if I could just have a dollar for every time a vehicle came within inches of permanently flattening me to the streets of Morrocco, I could retire comfortably almost anywhere.
Sweaty and hot from the sun and the stress, I parked my bike on a side street and headed on foot to the bookstore I had called earlier in the day, only to find that they were closed during normal business hours.
Fortunately, I found another bookstore not too far away, and enjoyed perusing many paperbacks there, including one titled “How Not to Die,” and another called “You Are A Badass.” After picking an enticing mystery by one of my favorite authors, I headed back to the bike, stopping to get a toasted almond and nougat treat from a street vendor to fortify me for the rest of my ride.
The almost hour long trip from there to my hotel in Tanger Med was refreshingly cool and scenic, as my route closely followed the coastline, providing one spectacular view after another of the bright blue seas of the Strait of Gibraltar, standing in stark contrast to the arid land in the foreground characterized by burnt grass, brittle brush, and short green trees.
