Casablanca

We're in the Atlantic Ocean! I had to think about it for a while, but it's true – this is the first time we've been sailing on the Atlantic. But – does Norway count? The North Sea and the Norwegian Sea – does the Atlantic extend that far north? Google says the Atlantic stretches from Arctic to Antarctic, which is fair, but it also says it connects with the Pacific at the Bearing Strait, which is just wrong. Anyway, here we are.*

Since last evening, the ship has been rolling sideways, very slowly and gently. Kind of nice unless you're walking somewhere.

And there are the lights of Casablanca. There's not a substantial natural harbor here, so the lights just stretch from left to right in a straight line. Casablanca is a city of over three million, so it extends quite a way up and down the coast.

The ship is shuddering and jerking just a little; changing course, adjusting speed, making its way to the pier. Then add some more rolling side to side. Looks like we might tie up in the dark.

And we're docked. Dawn is a half-hour away, but there's plenty of light, from Casablanca's brand new ship terminal and our ship's normal running lights. No extra floodlights for night docking. Routine.

The dawn appears behind a dense landscape of cranes, towers, ship superstructures, tanks, tugs and more cranes, all reflected in the water beyond the ship. This is a vast port, thickly populated by all sorts of commercial infrastructure for, it seems, a mile in each direction, including inland. There is a slight haze, which hangs around all day, and it softens and fades the colors as they become more distant. This combined with the angular, artistic shapes of the cranes and the geometric chaos of the buildings and ships makes for a really satisfying image, perhaps abstract, perhaps not. Anyway, it was a pleasant surprise.

Breakfast and on the bus again. Our schedule: the biggest mosque in Morocco; the cornice; walking tour in the medina, and some free time downtown. Here we go.

On the way out of the port, we pass the entrance to the naval base, which explains the warships in the

harbor. On down the coast a bit to the Hassan II mosque, the second largest functioning mosque in Africa and the fourteenth largest in the world. It's got the world's second tallest minaret. These kinds of records seem to be important to our guides; each city has the second best or third oldest or something. We only had a 'photo stop' of ten minutes at the mosque; no one not attending services may enter, unless in a guided tour, and our included guided tour didn't cover the inside. Too bad – the pictures of the inside that I've seen are really gorgeous.

The mosque is modern, finished in the 1990s. It's right on the shore and, apparently, hangs over the ocean a bit. It also has a retractable roof and a laser in the minaret that points toward Mecca. It can accommodate 20,000 worshipers inside, and over 80,000 outside in the courtyard.

It's really an interesting building to look at; it combines classic Islamic and modern architecture and design. It combines elegant, simple lines and arches, which soar in many directions, with intricate geometric and multi-color Arabic designs which seem to anchor the overall look without overwhelming it. I found the use of color very interesting – restrained but competent. And the huge forecourt – for the 80,000 outside worshipers – which was blocked off and therefore empty, seemed to set the whole thing apart, like a work of art.

Back on the bus, we traveled south along the coast – the 'cornice (corn-EESH), meaning a scenic road along a waterfront. We had traveled along another cornice during our Marseilles bus tour. This one was several miles along the Atlantic coast. The waves were pretty impressive, and since there was no wind to speak of, there was meteorology and hydrology going on out there in the Atlantic that I don't know much about. There was a really awesome park along the beach for the first couple of miles, and then a few miles of mostly one-or-two story cafes, restaurants, clubs and a huge, new McDonald's whose seating – about a half-acre of couches and easy chairs - was mostly outside. We stopped to take pictures of an Actual Cat or two and to use the restrooms (in the McDonald's); our guide insisted that there were no McDonald's in Casablanca – they were McCous-cous. [Abbey: The guide was so interested in joking, that he would answer straight questions with wrong answers, which was pretty confusing or annoying. We wouldn't ask if we didn't want to know! On the other hand he gave deep answers, philosophizing about questions like polygamy and other cultural issues.]

Back into the center of town, for a walk through the medina – again, a word that means 'town' but is used today to describe the 'old town.' Here in Casablanca, there was much more of a sense of a combination of old and new. Narrow streets – but wide enough for cars – which were partly outside and partly covered, again with arched roofs. Many shops, but no long stretches with one after another, like in Tunis. Many old, thick, wooden nail-studded doors, some with modern LED doorbells. People lived here; buildings were a kind of hodge-podge, one, two and three-story, mostly white but not all. Overall, the older buildings in Casablanca seemed to be made out of materials which showed wear much more than in Tunis. [Abbey: Where there are buildings of the same height, women run across the rooftops to visit each other. Socializing. In the new, tall apartment buildings, socializing doesn't happen.]

The Great Theater of Casablanca
Opera House

Casablanca is also a modern city with junior skyscrapers, wide boulevards, incredible traffic, big government buildings, and even an opera house with a very different and distinctive architecture. I'm not sure I could survive as a driver in Casablanca – drivers, and motorcyclists and pedestrians engage in death-defying behavior as a matter of course, and rules of the road seem to be quaint suggestions. At one point, our bus driver took us around a rotary in the wrong direction to avoid a jam-up of cars in the right direction. Pedestrians routinely cross six-lane boulevards with fast-moving traffic, and it's not unusual to see someone driving against traffic in order to get where they are going. Sitting in the front seat was as anxiety-producing as driving up to Montserrat, but for different reasons.

We drove through a very exclusive area of the city, with compounds behind high walls, some owned by members of the Saudi royal family. In that section, we passed the compound where FDR, Churchill, and Charles DeGaulle (but not Stalin*) met in 1943 to plan the next phases of WWII, including the decision to demand unconditional surrender from the Nazis. We stopped at one point and walked to the royal palace, where the King stays when he's in town. We actually saw a side entrance, closed tight, and the guide said no one really knows much about what's inside. The official front doorway was pretty impressive, and so was the two acre stone-paved courtyard, where ceremonies, parades and other events are held.

On the cornice

In Morocco, the King's absolute power has mostly been transferred to the Parliament, as happened in England, but the king has two positions of authority: he's the religious leader of the country, no matter what religion you are, according to the guide, he's the ultimate authority. Not sure how that works. Also, he's the leader of the country's Armed Forces, and that came about as the result of a failed military coup against the current King's father. There is no Minister of Defense (or War); that's the King.

Abbey got the guide talking about culture and religion. Moroccans speak Berber, which is the official language of the country, It is a language distinct from Arabic and much older, originating with the Berber tribes of northern and western Africa. Arabic is also spoken, but he noted that Moroccan Arabic is different; there's a significant contribution of French and Spanish, and even English. Just over half of Moroccans speak French as a second or third language, fewer speak English and Spanish. French is taught from the earliest grades in elementary school; English is taught only in High School, until the last couple of years, when it was extended down into the lower grades.

Women, according to our guide, have equal rights with men, and can be found in positions of authority, even in the mosque. We saw very many women wearing hijabs which is, apparently, a personal spiritual decision, like Christians wearing cross necklaces, or Catholic women covering their heads in church. We saw no burkas, but I suppose that women wearing burkas would not usually be out on the street.

In Islam, according to our guide, everyone is equal; there are no religious hierarchies. The five requirements of Islam: prayer, fasting, charity, profession of belief in one God, with Mohammed as his prophet, and hijab to Mecca once in your life, if it is possible. He made a clear distinction between Islam and Islamists, who, he said, manipulate the faith for political reasons, which is clearly wrong. I could say the same about Christianity – we are taught to love God and our neighbor, and accept the salvation offered by Jesus. Christian extremists have manipulated this faith for a thousand years or more – the religious wars of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; the Inquisition; the intolerance of the New England Puritans, etc. We should see to the mote in our own eye.

Casablanca is a modern, cosmopolitan city. It's apparently jammed full in the summer, and judging by the large proportion of signs, billboards, and club, cafe, restaurant and store names that are in English and French, it's a popular international destination. Tunis seems to have doubled down on its history and culture; Casablanca is heading for the future.

After a half hour to do some shopping downtown (I sat on a bench and read; Abbey shopped for Christmas presents), we returned to the port and the brand new ship terminal, which is sleek, enormous, modern and airy, and pretty much empty. It was a very long walk from the bus to the ship, mostly back and forth.

Lunch outside – we went from finding shelter from the wind yesterday to finding shelter from the sun today. Very nice day, with a view of the industrial chaos of the port infrastructure. We could also see out to sea, where there are quite a lot of commercial shipping at anchor – waiting for a berth? I don't know. The ship tracker app says there are twenty five of them – almost all of them container ships or bulk carriers, There's a very thin layer of brown-yellow haze out there – just pollution from 25 idling ship engines? Don't know.

Cruise ship terminal

Dinner at the Chef's Table again tonight – the specialty restaurant which offers only one five-course meal each night, along with wine pairing. If you'll remember, last time it was Korean cuisine; tonight it was Chinese. Hot and sour soup, fried prawns, a palate cleanser (remember palate cleansers, Quog?) and then beef stir fry, and a weird but very tasty egg-shaped concoction of mango, white chocolate and ground pistachios for dessert. The soup was very hot, but Abbey managed to finish it because it was so good. [I thought it was an incredible meal, each course was outstanding, each course had very different flavors.]

We were watching our disembarcation from Casablanca harbor, and the sunset, when it was time to go in to dinner, and we sat by the window facing out to sea. We passed a lot of the ships that were waiting outside the harbor, and then it was dark. But there was almost always a light visible in the distance – a ship making its way down the African coast, or back up toward the Strait, like we were. Once again, I was swept into the past, seeing those first Portuguese explorers sailing south, pushing the limits of the known world, making their way, unknowing, toward the Cape of Good Hope and the spice lands of the east. Or a British East Indiaman, or a ship from the Dutch East India Company, beginning or ending its long, lumbering journey, full of trade goods or exotic goods from all over Asia. Or a slave ship, sailing from somewhere in Europe, headed for the slave markets further south, bound for America.

And then there's us, heading for Tangier, just like ships have done for thousands of years.

* - Thanks to Randall for reminding me that we have been in the Atlantic - a flat-out dash from Prince Edward Island to Boston, to outrun a hurricane. Another story. And the Caribbean definitely does not count.

** - Stalin was just finishing up defending Stalingrad, the biggest and costliest urban battle in human history, and a turning point in WWII.

Hassan II mosque