Today was a day I was looking forward to. MaryLou had done the research, and even walked to our Hamman place yesterday to confirm that we were booked in. I was excited but also a little nervous. The information I had received from those who had had the Hammam and massage on our tour was that that there were no parts of your body that were not scrubbed and washed. Yikes, this would be different from anything I had experienced. Our tour leader, Malika had raved about hammam and talked about how she and her mother and aunts would go regularly and implied it was a communal women’s experience. (I had to pass on this experience during our G-tour because I was sick.)

We had our regular breakfast time at Dave and MaryLou’s apartment and I spent the next couple of hours reading the fifth Moroccan novel that I have read during these last two weeks. The first 2 weeks of the tour I received the glossed-over tourist view of the country and now I have been reading of some of the hardships and injustices of this place.

(Here are the books I have read. I highly recommend them all.)

Just before noon we walked to Yanis Prestige Spa for our experience. Only one person at the establishment spoke English. My non-English speaking Hammam woman us settled into our rooms. In one alcove there was a lounging couch and a bathrobe and slippers. The woman gave me a paper thong (think pandemic face mask) and from what I could determine from the woman I was to shower and get ready for my hammam. The scrub room had a huge marble slab in the centre. The walls and floors were marble and the lighting was low. There was a shower and so I rinsed off, put my robe on, and awkwardly awaited the attendant. When she arrived, the washing experience began. I lay on the heated marble slab and she proceeded to soap me with the special Moroccan black soap (it looks like black grease). Next came the scrub. With a very rough brush she scrubbed down every inch of my body, front and back, while rinsing the upper layer of my skin away. It certainly was invigorating and my skin felt refreshed and alive. She washed my hair and then oiled my body. After this she left the room for me to completely shower off and await further instructions regarding my massage. Once I was in my robe and lounging on the couch there was a knock at the door. The attendant brought me a tray. There was a tiny tagine with fresh walnuts, almonds, and dates, a cup of tea, and a bottle of water. I settled in to enjoy the treats. Soon there was another knock. I could bring my treats to the massage room to finish before I had my massage. Like a Moroccan princess I followed the attendant down the hallway to my massage room and proceeded to finish off the treats. Next came the massage. It was a 45 minutes complete body massage and I almost fell asleep on the table. The whole experience was incredible. (Perhaps when I do my bathroom renovation in the basement at home on Valour Rd. I should add a heated marble hammam table along with a date and nut bar. 😉

We walked back through the Arabic League Park. The sun was shining and it was warm. This is not to be taken for granted here. Most often we are slightly chilled. We arrived back at the apartments to find that Dave and Rudy had completed their adventures for the day. They had taken the tram and the bus back to our original hotel that we stayed at when we arrived in Casablanca. The breakfast place that we had so enjoyed was shuttered and forlorn (thanks to Ramadan) and so they made their way back. They stopped at the Boulangerie and Patisserie and picked up all sorts of delicious lunch food. After eating we separated. Rudy and I took the long walk to the Medina and Souk (market) for one last attempt for me to buy some souvenirs. But it was not to be. This market does not have any of the Moroccan handicrafts so we returned home to read.

At 8pm we met Dave and Marylou for supper. We have finally figured out that after 8 is when restaurants are done with Iftar (the breaking of the fast after sundown and the communal time together). We had scouted out a burger joint the day before and were not disappointed with what there was to choose from. (many many burgers and fancy fries, and loads of salads) I had a burger with cheese and truffles and loads of other delicious things and my fries are slathered in creamy truffle sauce, with cheese broiled over the whole bit. Dave even had poutine which the server was proud to say it is just as good as Canadian poutine.

We dragged our full bellies home and, because of the late dinner, it is almost time for bed.