Morocco 2026

Well, we made it! We are sitting in our hotel room in downtown Casablanca and Humphrey Bogart is nowhere to be found. I realize that the movie, Casablanca, was a Hollywood construct and in no way reflected the actual place even then. However, the words “sultry and sexy” had taken root in a back corner of my mind and so far, I cannot say I have seen either of them.

But really we have not seen that much. After deplaning we walked way too far through the airport to try to find “just the right phone company” to get SIM cards. We are traveling with MaryLou and Dave Driedger and in compliance with the request by our tour company we have come with backpacks. (Rudy didn’t get the memo and has his wheeled carry-on suitcase and it may turn out that he is the smart one.) By the time we had traversed a section of the airport us backpackers were struggling. Dave’s hip was giving him trouble, MaryLou was sweating in her raincoat, and I was remembering the South American backpacking trip with Ana, Miriam, and Paul. (My hips were aching, my pants were being pushed down off my butt by the hip belt to expose my plumber’s crack, and I was leaning dangerously backwards because of the weight of the pack.) Rudy, however, was walking briskly and happily at least 25 metres ahead of the three of us, merrily pulling his suitcase. Grrrr!

We eventually did get the phone cards, obtained tickets for the train and hopped on board for a 40-minute commute to our hotel. Well, not quite to our hotel. We ordered an Uber at the last train station as we didn’t want to (or couldn’t, because of the baggage load) walk to our hotel. As it was, it seemed an eternity before the Uber car pulled up and we probably could have crawled to the hotel by that time anyway.

Check-in at our hotel wasn’t until 3:00PM and so we had an hour to kill. We parked our luggage at the hotel desk and went for a walk to get some refreshments. It seemed as though every restaurant we passed had a row of chairs lined up along the sidewalk where men sat wiling away the afternoon sipping their little coffees and teas and smoking cigarettes. No women. Only men. And so we too sat ourselves down at a couple of empty tables, despite the fact that MaryLou and I felt quite out of place at the male-dominated cafe. It was moderately satisfying (Dave and I each had a delicious cafe-au-lait with multiple sugar cubes. MaryLou’s sugary mint tea was also good. But Rudy’s Americano, which was more like a small glass of strong Nescafe — was a bust.) However, things looked up for Rudy with the second-hand smoke. He TOTALLY enjoyed it. (Rudy would concur with John Prine’s sang, “When I get to heaven….I’m gonna smoke a cigarette that’s nine miles long.”) As for the rest of us, we could have passed on the experience. To top it all off and to add insult to injury, I had a bird poop on my head. It was time to head back to the hotel and check in.

After a bit of a rest in our rooms, we ventured out to get supper. We passed up on some delicious-looking street food (hope to be back tomorrow to check it out). Instead, we opted to sit down at an outdoor cafe. With the help of the waiter and our handy Google Translate app, we ordered a Moroccan salad (tomatoes, onions, and olives), French fries, baguette sandwiches with chicken skewers, tomatoes, and olives and a plate of kofta (meatballs) and sides. Yum. It was a good first meal.

Tonight we are off to bed early due to lack of sleep and a very long day. We are seven hours ahead of Manitoba time.

Day 2 in Casablanca.

Well, we managed to stay awake until about 9pm last night in an effort to get over our jet lag as soon as possible. So once we got back to our hotel after supper Naomi finished up yesterday’s blog post we called it a night. NO problem falling asleep. And although the mattress on the bed in our hotel room was kinda hard, it felt so great to just stretch out and rest our weary bodies. After a great sleep, I awoke completely refreshed and ready for another day of adventures. I reached for my phone and squinted to read the time. Seven o’clock. PERFECT. Wait a minute. Take a closer look. What? oh boy! ONE o’clock. Hmmm. That’s not very good at all. I knew I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, but I decided to lie back down and ‘rest’ for a while. The next time I looked at my phone it was 8:00. Yeah. That’s really good.

I showered and rummaged through my neatly organized luggage to find just the right t-shirt for the day. Then I headed downstairs to find a coffee. A very friendly waiter happily poured me a cup which I took back upstairs. Now Naomi was done her shower and MaryLou was already texting us: Waiting in the lobby. Want to go for breakfast?

And that’s how we began our day.

We had breakfast at the coffee shop across the street from our hotel. Very fine breakfast and good coffee. MaryLou had signed us up for a free walking tour of the Old Medina. Soon after breakfast we headed out, intending to walk the 30 minutes to the ‘meeting place’ just outside the Medina. It soon became apparent that our pace would not get us there in time. We ordered an Uber and that got us there with a few minutes to spare. And then the guide texts to say he’ll be 10 minutes late.

Amin introduced himself to us and suggested we climb up a few flights of stairs so we could look out over the wall that surrounds the Medina (old city), from where we could see the big Casablanca harbour and the many big ships that were out on the Atlantic awaiting their turn to enter the port. Amin grew up in the Medina and told us many stories of how in more recent times the old buildings inside and outside the walls are being gradually replaced by modern malls and hotels and more tourist-friendly structures.

Old Medina is a maze of narrow alleys and traditional souks selling textiles, jewelry, spices, food, and much more.

I think our two-hour tour lasted nearly 3 hours. Amin showed us how to buy tram tickets and got us on the right one back to our hotel. We decided we should check out a pub near our hotel and maybe have a cold local beer before going back to our rooms. No luck with that. Google Maps let us down. So did numerous people I stopped to ask for help. It seemed that as soon as I explained that what we wanted was a BEER to drink, they immediately shut down. So no alcohol in this country? Really? Is a wee little cup of espresso the only ‘adult’ drink in town?

Back at our hotel we stopped in at the restaurant. Do you have beer? Yes! Two local beers to choose from. The waiter showed us to a ‘private’ room next to the cafeteria and was pleased to bring us nice ‘Casablanca’ beers and frosted glasses. Not great, but not terrible. We had a fine hour chatting with the Driedgers. Then up to our rooms for a bit of relaxing before meeting downstairs to go out for dinner at six.

We ordered two plates of ‘mixte plato’, one for each couple to share. That was plenty, and it was quite tasty! Fries, rice, sausages, olives, tomatoes, onions, delicious baked bread, and more. Spicy Dijon mustard to top it off. And the cook was super friendly and seemed pleased to have us there.

A short walk after supper and then back to our rooms. Time to read a bit of news, maybe do a sudoku or wordle puzzle. Look through our photos and update the blog. By 11:00pm it was time to turn in. (Not really sleepy yet, but we’ve got to get into the routine.)

Traveling offers up both pleasure and pain and the balance of the two can determine how satisfied I am at the end of the day. Too much pain can overwhelm me and leave me feeling low and discouraged (not to mention homesick). Too much ease and pleasure and I am not appreciative enough of the joy that came with no struggle.

Well today we had a bit of both. We started off with breakfast at the restaurant just 20 steps from our lodging. Yesterday I ordered blindly off the menu and hit gold. Today I was not going to make any changes. A Moroccan breakfast often consists of cheese, olives, bread and amlou. But let me describe this further. The bread in Morocco is amazing. The French (colonial) influence is very apparent.  The buns are chewy and crunchy just like a baguette. The pastries are soft and rich. There is also a type of bread that is very grainy and nutty tasting. My breakfast consisted of the nutty tasting bread, a pot of spreadable cheese, some oily black olives and amlou. Amlou is a spread made with crushed almonds, argan oil and honey. The flavour is amazing. Add to that meal, freshly squeezed orange juice and cafe au lait. The result: complete satisfaction.

Our outings today consisted of visiting Rick’s Cafe (of the movie Casablanca fame) and a trip to the Hassan II Mosque. Rick’s Cafe is a romantic reconstruction of the 1942 film and is every nook and cranny has intricate carved chairs and buffets, beaded and metal lamps, a piano bar, marble fireplaces, and more. I felt that I needed to have a classy drink to celebrate the occasion and also, perhaps, to pretend I was as sophisticated as Ingrid Bergman, so I order a martini. I only needed a few sips before I felt like I might slip from “oh so elegant” to “oh so unable to walk down the curving staircase without falling” and so Rudy finished it off.

With our fancy drinks finished we headed down the avenue to attend to more serious endeavours (the mosque).  The Hassan II Mosque is the only mosque in Casablanca that non muslims can enter. It is a palatial affair with  space inside to accommodate 25,000 worshippers and a surrounding courtyard that can hold 80,000 more.  The minaret is 210 metres tall. The roof is retractable and can open to the heavens and the building was built out into the ocean. The marble pillars, walls of mosaics, carved wooden balconies and grates and the painted cedar ceiling were only some of the wonders. It was almost too much.  I do hope that the King (who completed the build in 1983) invested as much in helping the people of Morocco as he did on constructing this edifice.

But it was not all beauty and pleasure. Oh no. There was some pain involved. Well, perhaps not for me. Rudy was the one who had to suffer today. While we were being ushered into the lower hall where the 350 huge marble washing stations were, Rudy neglected to read the signage. Danger was lurking just inside. Marble curbs surrounded the washing fountains and Rudy, so engrossed by the glory and splendour, slipped on the edge of the curb and twisted his ankle and fell flat on the marble floor. Luckily his noggin missed the enormous marble basin or it might have been much more than a sprained and swollen ankle that would have resulted.

While that was the most serious incident of the day, our pain did not end there. The wind whipping off the ocean was joined by rain from the heavens and we had trouble getting transportation home. We called an “Indrive” taxi but were met with hostilities from the regular taxi drivers. One glared, spoke harshly to us, and lurked around so he could get the license plate of the “illegal” taxi. In the end the Indrive taxi woman couldn’t risk picking us up and we were too mad to take the offer of a ride from the irate regular taxi guy. And so we continued on foot. Rudy limping. MaryLou very cold because she didn’t have her rain jacket and Dave and I just generally grouchy. We tried for a long time to get another taxi on another cold windy corner but everyone was desperate for a ride and we did not manage to secure one. On we tramped. Another opportunity. Another disappointment. The taxi driver asked to much and we dug in our heels. He followed us around the corner and berated us. Is this story getting too long? Too much of the same? Okay. I will just say that we did finally make it back to the hotel in two separate tiny taxis with a couple of rally drivers swerving in and out of traffic. We were just in time for our tour group meeting.

The tour group is a varied group . Some of us are pretty run-of-the-mill and some maybe not so much. There is an unhealthy number of teachers in the group (too many know-it-alls) but we shall have to get along for the next 15 days. After our meeting we headed out for a supper together to a nice place where most of us had tajine, a traditional Moroccan meal cooked slowly in a clay pot. I had a vegetable tajine but others had chicken, veal or lamb.

Well, it is time for bed. Tomorrow we are up early and off to Tangiers.

Alarm went off at 6:30. Showered and packed our bags. Went downstairs to the buffet breakfast and looked at some very unappetizing scrambled eggs. Coffee was okay. My ankle was still quite swollen but felt much better. By 8:00 the tour leader was phoning our room: Everyone is in the van, we’re all waiting for you! Hurried down. Bags were all stacked in the back of the ‘bus’. Bus? Hardly. It’s a 16 passenger van with our 14 tour members jammed into too small seats. I joined Dave and MaryLou in the back seat. Maybe a bit more legroom for me, but the back of the bus will surely deliver the ‘bumpiest’ ride. I was disappointed. Not quite what I expected from this tour.

The highway going north out of Casablanca was a relatively new divided 4-lane. Casablanca is a big sprawling city. Once we were out of there we were following the Atlantic coastline for a good part of today’s trip. It was surprisingly busy on the road this Saturday morning. Lots of trucks.

We were making pretty good time, when things suddenly crunched to a halt. And I mean CRUNCHED. A small van was in the passing lane to our left, when apparently it got a flat front tire, causing it to careen right in front of our bus. Crunch! It was straddled across the front of our vehicle and we were ‘pushing’ it along ahead of us until we finally came to a stop. I hung on to the seats in front of me so I wouldn’t follow my big backpack, which  had tumbled down the aisle to the front of the bus. When we finally came to a stop we  were surrounded by big trucks and lots of cars all around us; we were lucky that the line of trucks behind us didn’t end up rearranging the back of our van! Traffic had now come to a crawl as everyone merged into the only open lane to get around us.

The crunched van on our grille managed to push off and ended up on the right shoulder, facing oncoming traffic. Our bus now made some significant noises as the driver pulled over to the side of the road. It was probably at least an hour until the police and traffic cops were through with us. And in the meantime the traffic was now backed up and we weren’t sure if our van could even continue. Maybe we’d get a (nicer) big bus to come pick us up and continue the tour? In the end it was determined that our vehicle would be okay to drive, at least for the rest of today’s trip.

And it was during that hourlong wait in the bus that the next crisis occurred. One person in our tour group made a comment and another woman took great offence and scolded her for it. And that developed into a long, angry war of words. And these two women were supposed to share a room for the rest of our trip! Nope. Not gonna happen. Our tour leader tried to smooth things over. The first woman demanded a single room. Both could not see themselves sharing a room for the next 13 nights. We all sat there in awkward silence. Fortunately it was about that time that the two drivers had settled their claims and we could continue our journey. Truce, for now.

We were delayed by over an hour, so when we got to Tangier it was already after 2:00 when we sat down in the Ali Baba restaurant for lunch. (And lunch was terrific. I had a chicken and mushroom tagliatelle, and Naomi had a chicken tajine.) Then off we were to meet another guide who would walk us through the Medina in Tangier.

It was dark at 7:00PM. We’d already been on the road for at least an hour, leaving Tangier, heading for Chefchaouen. The road was winding its way up into the Atlas Mountains. We had a 15-minute rest stop and then continued our journey for another hour. We pulled up to our hotel, which was on the main (narrow, winding) road of Chefchaouen. We handed in our passports in exchange for the keys to our rooms. Ours was on the 3rd floor. Up the winding staircase. Wow! What a weird and interesting hotel.

We dropped off our luggage and then went back down to the lobby for a short talk from our tour guide. Then we bundled up and headed out for a walk up the road. She took us to see where we could find an ATM, supermarket, restaurants. We asked if there was a place where we might have a drink. Muslim countries like Morocco disapprove of alcohol, and it’s hard to find a pub. Our guide asked a security person in a little park where we might find a beer. She then led us to a little doorway that led up some narrow stairs, and voila! A big and busy room filled with smokers and drinkers! About half of the 14 members of our group sat down around a big table and enjoyed the rest of the evening getting more acquainted over Czech and Spanish beers.

It was late by the time we got back to our room. Thankfully, the A/C unit had managed to heat it up nicely. The bed had nice blankets that would keep us warm. It had been a long and interesting day. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep.

This morning we were free to do as we wished. We slept in a bit and decided to forgo a shower because of the brisk temperature. I layered on a couple of pants (tights underneath and travel pants on top) and dug out much of my warm upper layers to go down for breakfast.   Our host made us an omelette and I chose my usual bunch of olives, white spreadable cheese and a traditional bread called msemen. We huddled in the lobby, our ice cold plates on the low table and ate our quickly cooling breakfast.

After breakfast I set out to see the sights of the local town. Chefchaouen is known as the blue town. Almost all of the buildings are painted blue and the overall effect is incredible. I climbed the hill and stopped first at an art shop. The woman was lovely and shared many things about Moroccan culture with me. Initially I have been surprised that many people speak multiple languages here. Our tour leader mentioned yesterday that everyone learns Arabic and French from kindergarten up and that at age 10 each student is allowed to choose one more language to study. She chose English and she said that one of her brothers chose Spanish and the other one, German. The woman in the art shop spoke English very fluently. She talked about how traditionally money was never mentioned in Moroccan society and that people took care of each other. I certainly saw this later on with our afternoon guide as I saw him interact with people in his community. I later learned from him that all houses look pretty much the same from the outside (small door in a wall) but on the inside the size of the abode and the way it is built indicate the economic status of the family. This way there is not the problem of comparison between poor and rich. Only your friends and family know your economic status. (But more about Mohammed later.) After a lovely exchange about art and life with the galley owner,  I headed down into the maze of alleyways and stairs in the Medina.

Of course I was super excited about all the exploring so I headed back to the hotel to get Rudy and show him all I had discovered. By the time the two of us had made our way down into the maze of houses and shops, the day had begun for the shop owners and customers. The streets were no longer empty. At one shop we stopped, we chatted with a man who had had his shop for over 50 years. Besides the stuff on the street level he encouraged us to follow the winding stairs up all four floors to see everything.

Many of the beautiful kaftans and lamps and leather work seemed to have been there for many years. We finally made it to the top of the building and there he had instructed that we would find a key to unlock the padlock to get out onto the rooftop terrace. The whole experience was strange and lovely.  There was even a full grown lemon tree on the rooftop.

By this time Rudy’s ankle was in need of rest so we headed back and went for lunch at a restaurant across from our hotel. Wow. It was lovely. I sipped on sugary mint tea, munched olives and delicious hot bread and had a goat cheese, fig, avocado, tomato, radish, and orange salad. MMMmmm.  While we were eating, an Irish woman came and sat at a table next to us and started up a conversation. Probably one of the best things about traveling is the people we have met. We talked politics, music, and Ireland. Also heard about what she loves in Morocco (This is her 3rd visit to Morocco this year). Everyone has a story and we are certainly rubbing shoulders with many fascinating people.

At 3:30 pm we met our group and our guide Mohammed for a tour of the city. So far he has been the best guide. This is his city and he knows so much. He said he had been away for a while and it was apparent. People of all ages greeted him. The history of Morocco is filled with so many different peoples from various nations, coming and going. The three religions (Muslim, Jewish, Christian) have been here for centuries and French, Spanish, and Portuguese have come and gone mixing and living with the Berber people. He regaled us with stories and history. We were even invited  into a riad (house) when someone on the street spontaneously offered it. I am gaining new insight into Muslim people and their religion and many of my preconceptions are beginning to fall away.

We continued on throughout the city and made our way out of the Medina and to the water source for the city. It is a giant aquifer in the mountain and the fresh clear water that has been purified in the limestone rushes down to the city. There has been tremendous rainfall recently in Morocco after 7 years of drought and once we got to the edge of the city we could see the effects of it. Although in many places in the north the people have been displaced, they are very happy for this water.

The end to the walk consisted of hiking up the mountain to a lookout to the Spanish Mosque is. It was built by the Portuguese king as a gesture of goodwill to the Muslims of Morocco who were very concerned that they would be forced to convert to Christianity. The view from the top was magnificent.

We got up early, showered, packed our bags, and went downstairs for a quick breakfast (omelet, bread, and orange ‘juice’). Then off we were, once again packed in like sardines in our ‘mini-bus’. The road out of Chefchaouen was winding and up and down. The recent rains, after seven years of drought, made the hills and valleys lush and green. And it also had washed out the road in some places. So it made navigating on the road a little more tricky.

It was a long morning of driving, with a quick rest stop about halfway.

Or first scheduled stop was at the Roman Ruins at Volubilis. We had a very knowledgeable and interesting guide who took about an hour to walk us around while he explained the life in the Roman Empire at this UNESCO World Heritage site. We explored well-preserved mosaics, the basilica, the triumphal arch, and numerous ancient columns. The Roman ruins cover about 40 hectares, though only half has been excavated.

After the tour we continued on for a short drive, stopping for lunch at the AFER Association, a project that is supported by the G-Tours company. This association provides vital services, including literacy and vocational training, health services, disability assistance, and the operation of a local ambulance. AFER’s training center hosts culinary programs recognized by the state, and each year it graduates 30 students, many of whom go on to work in the project. Through this work, AFER creates sustainable employment, fosters community cohesion, and showcases Moroccan culture to travellers.

We enjoyed a traditional home-cooked Moroccan meal, with a choice of vegetable tagine or roasted chicken with onion sauce. After lunch we met some of the women that are part of this community program.

After lunch it was really just a little more than an hour to get to the large city of Fez. We parked in front of our hotel and checked in. After about 45 minutes to unpack and rest a bit, we met downstairs and went for a walk in the neighbourhood. We got some more Moroccon money from the ATM and Currency Exchange. Some people dropped their laundry off at a nearby facility. Then we went back to our hotel, arranging to meet again downstairs; those who were interested in doing this would go to a restaurant (that featured beer and wine — something that seems to be hard to find), and live music.

It was cool, but not too cold, as we ventured out in the evening. Our guide led us on a 20-minute walk to a restaurant. We were seated and had some time to look over the menu. We made our selections, including some white wine and local beers to go with our dinner. The evening was a hit! the food was very good, and the Moroccon beers some of us had with our food was also good.

After an evening of fine dining and some very skilled musicians entertaining us with mostly Moroccan music, we walked back to our hotel. Tomorrow will be another day here in Fez, with some significant time planned for visiting the Medina.

The alarm was set for 5:45am. The haunting nasal sound of the Islamic call to prayers started up just before the alarm went off. We ignored both for an extra 20 minutes. Then we got up, packed our suitcases, and took them downstairs to the lobby. Breakfast was happening. Orange juice, pastries, yogurt, and (very bad) coffee. A couple of little triangles of ‘cow’ brand cheese wrapped in foil in our pockets – ‘for the road’.

At 7:00am we were on the bus – ALL of us—including yesterday’s antagonists, who ending up sitting side by side in the first row! How long is this going to work?? (Amazingly, the truce held for the entire day!) It was going to be a long hard day of travel, at least 7 hours, sitting scrunched up in the back of the bus as we made our way from Fès down to Merzouga, near the Algerian border. I was wearing shorts because the midday temperature was supposed to hit 27 degrees, but it was a little too cool for my liking at 7:00am.

We stopped for our first WC and coffee break and I hauled out my little box of peanut butter ‘biscuits’ to share with everyone in the group. Dave bought us all coffees, ‘real’ and delicious coffees. Then back on the bus and on we go. We made a couple of stops to take in the sights as the surroundings changed. A very fine highway took us through cedar and pine forests, then over the snow-covered Middle Atlas Mountains. We stopped for lunch at a big roadside restaurant. Pasta for me, a Moroccan ‘taco’ for Naomi. We continued on after lunch. We stopped to take in the view of some deep gorges filled with green palm groves. At around 5:30, with the sun beginning its descent in the west, we turned off the main highway and followed a long sandy ‘driveway’ into the marvelous orange-coloured dunes of the Sahara Desert. We had arrived in the little village of Merzouga.

In front of us was an amazing ‘fortress’. Our bus backed up to the big gate and our driver began to unload the luggage. This ‘auberge’ would be our home for the next two nights. We made our way past a large pool in the middle of a courtyard that was surrounded by hotel rooms. We got the key to our room from the front desk, then went looking for room #70. We found it in another even larger courtyard, with an even bigger swimming pool in the centre of it. The rooms surrounding this courtyard were huge! Private bathrooms, too! And a back door that opened up to our own big patio – and an absolutely stunning view of those big beautiful sand dunes, literally in our backyard!

Naomi went for a long walk out on the dunes while I checked out the lobby. Dave and Michael both jumped into the (cold) pool for a little swim. I got myself a delicious Americano coffee. When Naomi got back from her walk, the hotel manager offered to take us upstairs to the roof of the hotel, from where we watched the sunset. Magical views.

After a bit of a rest back in our room it was 7:30, time for dinner. A long table was prepared for us in the dining hall. The hotel would serve us a local-style dinner; first up, a ‘starter’, which was basically a cold macaroni salad with beets, carrots, and rice. Interesting. Then came the ‘included’ main course, a ‘Berber pizza’. Several large ‘pizzas’, stuffed with beef and onion and covered with another pie crust were set on our table. The bottles of Coke were an extra charge. And for dessert? Delicious local oranges and bananas.

After supper a few of us followed our Berber host out into the desert where we sat on chairs and looked up at the night sky. We discussed the stars for a while, and then Naomi and I excused ourselves and headed back to our room. No internet access in our room (and not very good internet in the lobby either), so we both worked on our respective blog posts, typing them up in Word, with intentions to post them tomorrow when the lobby internet is a little faster.

It was a little after ten o’clock, and although we’d basically sat in the van all day, we were tired. Too tired to even start up a movie from my collection of downloaded films.

So it’s off to bed. See you in the morning.

Woke up at around 7:30. Our hotel is really cool, but there are a few important things that it is missing: virtually NO internet (a very weak and unreliable signal is offered in the lobby, but that is a LONG way from our rooms), and (at least this morning) NO hot shower.

After a brisk cold shower we packed our bags and headed to the breakfast room. Today the coffee tasted even worse than it looked. I had put some bread and butter on a plate and left it at the table while I went to get an orange juice. When I look back at the table, I see several sparrows sitting on the table and on my plate, pecking at my pad of butter. (At least SOMEONE is enjoying the breakfast!)

After breakfast we had to hurry to get our luggage out to the bus so the driver could pack (and I mean PACK) it into the rear storage compartment. Our backpacks come with us onto the bus and, if there’s still room, they get forced into the shelves above our seats (so that you can get properly boinked on the head by a falling water bottle when we’re driving on a bumpy road). There is NO room to spare on this bus. It has 15 seats if you count the rear bench seat as a four-seater. Up until today I’d been okay sitting back there since it is the only place where I can turn just a bit in my seat to avoid having my knees jammed tightly agains the seat-back in front of me. And because it is the back seat and the view from there is not a view, it usually has one empty seat where one of the women who sits there can keep her backpack on the seat beside her. After a week of riding the bus we’d sort of settled into a seating arrangement that worked for everyone. Well, not EVERYONE. There are two people on this tour that really don’t like each other. They’d sat side by side after their big showdown, but today one of them was first on the bus and took a seat in row 2, leaving the seat beside her empty. As the passengers filed in and took their seats, that one empty seat remained empty. And when the last person to board the bus came on, she walked right past that empty seat and squeezed her butt into the empty seat beside me. She was NOT going to sit beside you-know-who! Oh boy. This is getting ridiculous.

We made two stops before lunch. First at a big ‘dates’ store where they were happy to give us a few samples and even a short talk about dates. Then, after another short drive, we stopped at a ‘fossil’ place where they cut up big slabs of rock from the surrounding area and make them into some beautiful furniture and ornamental pieces (and a LOT of small — and questionably authentic — souvenirs).

After the fossil tour and a WC break, it was about 90 minutes to our lunch stop. We sat down at long tables under an outdoor tent at BIG tour bus restaurant, where the simple basic menu had a fixed price that included a starter, main, and dessert. Most of us were not interested in such a big meal for lunch; all we do all afternoon is sit in a tour bus, and we already have big dinners planned for us. So Naomi and I shared ONE lunch (turkey kebobs).

After lunch we made one more stop before arriving at our final destination. We pulled in to the  Carrefour grocery store to pick up a few things that we might want over the next few days, when there will be fewer options available. Of course I went to check out the beer situation but all they had was zero-alcohol beer, and I’m not a big water drinker. This Ramadan business is a bit inconvenient, even for the tourists who don’t observe it. We ended up buying a few chocolate bars and chips. Not sure that was the smartest thing to do.

Soon after our grocery stop we pulled up in front of our hotel in the town of Haroun. Looked okay from the outside. Not bad from the lobby and the big dining hall. there was a big courtyard out in the back, and even a swimming pool. And while our tour brochure had mentioned that we might have shared bathrooms, not so for us! So that was a bonus.

Best of all, the wifi worked. (Haven’t check to see if there’s hot water for showering.) So it was busy, busy, busy for Naomi and me — working hard to upload photos and write these blog posts. I queued up one of my ‘new’ Van Morrison albums, “Remembering Now”, and we enjoyed listening to to that while we sorted through our trip photos.

At around 4:30 we met at the bus. A local tour guide joined us and after a very short drive we disembarked and began what turned out to be about an hour-long hike. Very nice. Very interesting.

Dinner was downstairs at out hotel. We’d put in our orders before we left on our hike, so the food arrived at the tables right after we sat down. Food was okay. Pasta for me and a mushroom omelette for Naomi. And that was the day! We went back to the room. Naomi had a little headache and I need to finish up this blog. Which I have now done. See you tomorrow!