Day 22

Breakfast is again delicious with 4 choices of small patisserie, french bagette, jam, butter, fresh squeezed orange juice (I sure will miss that) and a wonderfully light omelette. They have replaced the showerhead in my room so it is the best shower so far. The bathroom is small, but with a shower curtain the water is kept where it should be. Another bright and sunny day with a high of 18 C projected. I set off after breakfast in a T-shirt under my longsleeve nylon shirt and am comfortable enough, though I have to admit it would be cool in the shade with a breeze for any length of time.

My backpack is still heavy despite the fact that I have put a few items in the bag with the carpet since it will be checked anyway. I am sure I look like one of the overloaded donkeys from Fes as I walked up the street. The train headed for Casa Voyageur in Casblanca is delayed 25 minutes and I am feeling glad that I discovered I didn't need to go all the way into that station to get to the airport. My train arrives on time. I switch at Ain Sebna and discover it goes through Casa Voyageur anyway. I don't fully understand the reasons why and can only assume the connections are better further north.

The train arrives at the airport about 11:45 AM, so 1 hr 45 min ride from Rabat. I think staying in Rabat was good, the town is quiet and safe and obviously convenient. Upon leaving the train platform, there is a long line or better to say everyone who got off the train is now bunched around the entry door to get into the airport. It is here that we must have our luggage, etc scanned. People from the back of the group continue to swarm around those in front in order to press into the terminal building. Out the other side there are only signs for terminal 1 and 2. I ask the fellow at the scanner and he gives me directions in French. When I get to the end of Terminal 1 I am told I must go outside and a small bus will take me to Terminal 3. A large intercity style bus arrives and is apparently the shuttle. I am lucky because the sign indicates that the shuttle only operates every 1/2 hour and I have not had to wait.

We are brought around to a small block building which is apparently the terminal. I am able to convert my remaining dh (except for a few coins) into US dollars. I go through a passport check and get in line for my boarding card. It is a long slow process. Suddenly a group of passengers, all hauling luggage about 1/2 their size press up and begin to push in front of all who have been waiting. The couple ahead of me object, but the check-in clerk seems to allow this to continue. It turns out they are on a 1 PM flight to Tunis - "Come earlier next time." I say rudely as they leave with their seat assignments. Once I have my boarding card, I want to buy a bottle of water and so go back out through passport control. A bottle is 14 dh nearly twice the price of a bottle in town for half the amount! I see the chocolate bars that I paid 5 dh for last night are 18 dh here so am glad I stocked-up and a bag of chips for which I paid 3 dh at a street vendor is 35 dh here!!

I look around as to where to go next. I see a frosted glass enclosure which reads "embarking" and pass through the door and another security check. I enter a gradually filling waiting area. I eat the chips and then realize I have 40 dh tucked in my wallet and so buy a cafe au lait while I wait. I leave the 5 dh change as an undeserved tip, but no point in carrying it with me. All that is left is to board and fly home.

I am reading my magazine and become aware that it has become quiet around me. People have left the terminal and are standing on a bus to take them to the plane; I join a few stragglers to clear ticket check and get on the bus. It seems very odd that there was no announcement to say flight # whatever is now boarding. We are crammed like sardines in the bus and cross the tarmack to the waiting plane. The sun beats down on the bus and it heats up and now we wait. We look out at the technicians in their orange suits at the door to the plane. The bus lurches and we pull away and the doors open in front of the terminal building from whence we came. Obviously a problem and we are not leaving as scheduled. The person next to me flags down an airline person and speaks in Arabic and receives a reply. There is no announcement, no apology, no nothing. All personnel seem to have disappeared. We sit and wait. I call my travel insurance company in North America and explain the situation. I am told I will just have to pay the bills and submit them once home. The will then consider the eligibility.

A new plane is prepared outside the terminal building and again without announcement, people begin to walk across the tarmack and up the stairs into the plane. Once inside, I discover that row 9 where I am to be seated does not exist. In fact there are several rows missing from the arrangement. We are told to stand to one side and they will figure out what to do later. More and more of us are standing. Finally I decide to sit in the first class seat next to where I am standing so if there are no coach seats I can insist on staying where I am. Once the aisle have cleared an attendant comes and asks to see my boarding card. He says I must move and should go to the back and find a seat. I say that I need an aisle seat and am not about to go back looking for openings. He walks off and returns to escort me to a seat.

I have a chatty seatmate. He is making his way back to his sister's in Ontario, but not before telling me he was denied access to London, England the day before and they had detained him and put him back on a plane to Morocco. His story is weird but plausible and at least he is not a terrorist. He keeps getting up to get the free cans of orange crush left at the back and then gets up to releave himself of the orange crush. Since I am sitting in the aisle seat I am getting my share of up and down action.

The flight is relatively uneventful and we arrive in Montreal just before 9 PM local time. I have reserved a room (when stuck in Morocco) at the same Best Western as I used flying out. My room is comfortable and several stars higher than most of the rooms I have used in the last 3 weeks. I manage to get a sandwich in the bar and call home to let them know I am safely back in Canada. I will take a new and separate flight back to Toronto tomorrow morning and have arranged the airbus to pick me up and transport me back to Niagara.

How wonderful a holiday I have had. It was either the right place at the right time for me or maybe it really is the Morocco is a great place to visit. The food is delicious, the people warm and friendly and the culture rich. Sleeping in the desert of the Sahara was certainly a highlight. Learning to tie my own turban from a strip of cloth rewarding. The marathon its own reward as I can check the continent of Africa as the 6th of the seven where I have run a marathon. Sure I would have done a few things differently, but I could not have done it better.
So until the next time, enshallah.