Casablanca, Morocco

"You only need to spend one night in Casablanca- There is nothing for tourists here!" laughs the ex tour operator when we tell him our plans for the next 2 weeks. He tells us all the places to go see in Morocco- of which none are in Casablanca, teaches us some arabic, shows us how to cross 8-lane highways and points us both in the direction of hair dressers- Whats with that? Hussan is a bloke in his 40s that was in a motorbike crash and had glass go through his right retina and now he is classed as useless. Theres no social security here, and you still need to pay for treatment at public hospitals so he is in a rough spot. We give him some cash and grab him some food and he gives us a tour for a couple hours of the highlights in Casablanca, like Where he was an extra in the Brad Pitt movie Spy Game, the best place to buy half cow carcases from, and the best hairdresser locations.

Hussan gave us a heads up on some of the more common scams the locals try and pull off around the place, from humble kidnappings to covering you in snakes and charging to get them off you. It does seem that the locals in Morocco are very courteous though, and even the theives will pour you a cup of moroccan whiskey (Tea with mint) as they fleece you. Im kinda hanging out for it- apparently a common one is for a bloke to take you around town, feed you, give you drinks then drive off with your backpack in his car. $5 backpacks and a free feed here I come.

As it is Ramadan here at the moment (a muslim faith event in the ninth month of the islamic calendar) the people here fast and sacrifice during daylight hours (sun up to sun set). Come 7:10pm, the sun sank below the horizon and there was a stampede to the mosques and then the life on the street starts up- People can eat, drink and smoke again and it seems to get turned into an all night affair. After Hussan explained what Ramadan is and what he has to go through, lyn offered to buy him lunch haha. Instead of that he took us to a deli and we got some food $74 DHS ($12AUD) for 2 rolls- that was as much as we paid for dinner for 4 last night. No surprise.. the deli owner hacked up 3 whole new wheels of Edam before we managed to tell him we only wanted a little bit for a sandwich. Furious would be an understatement. Picked up a stick of what could have been anything from polony, pate, salami or ham. Turns out its fluoro red mortadella that has half the red sea worth of salt in a little stick. I need to learn to read arabic or french. I now know "Saucisson cuit de boeuf aux olives" means "Put me the hell back in that fridge"

Last night we headed out with a spanish bloke Jordi and his Czech wife Ika- The aim was to have a beer. An hour later we found ourselves closed away from the public behind curtains in a restaurant sneaking in a local brew. It was brewed here in Casa so I dont know what the fuss was about but we had to stay hidden with the beers. Dinner at the next stop on our wander of town- roast chicken, salad, chips and olives for 4, came to less than what the beers cost. Im not sure about this place.

We have noticed the people here seem alot more content with what they have. Where I see a shoddy built building with no whole bricks, walls on the piss and no straight tiles, theres someone happily mopping the bitumen out front of their home. No backyard? Thats cool- the cow can live chained to the front door. We saw and old bloke slugging it the wrong way up a main street, with a wheelbarrow with both wheels busted but he was beaming. You cant pass kids in the street without getting Bonjour yelled at you 15 times. The flags up at the mosque today showed the King Mohammed VI was in residence, and as Hassan told us he almost had a tear in his (one working) eye. The people here love their king- It was funny to compare to Aus where everyone seems to hate or at least whinge about their prime minister who cant do anything right, and to see such a contrast here. This bloke who footed the bill for his own hospial costs, still pays for his medicines, is told he cannot work and will get no financial support from his king is the happiest man around just because his king is close by.

I headed back to the hostel and decided to take my one eyed friends advice and get a haircut. I walked into the place around the corner from our hotel- Its got a picture of a shaggy haired bloke on one side of the sign, then a neatly trimmed head of hair on the other. Hairdresser I figure. I walk in the door, and theres a zig-zag of concrete walls tiled from ceiling to floor... wierd, and the air is damp and humid.. Strange for a hairdresser... I get around a final zig-zag and see a couple of chicks in towels sitting on wall benches and an old lady struts infront of me in underwear. Crap- Must be a wash house or something! As I bolt Im reminded of Hussan telling me that morning that if you slip up during ramadan you will most likely get beaten up by all those around you, and then go to prison for around a month. Just speaking to a woman at the wrong time is more than enough reason for a biffo- I wonder what seeing her in underwear would get. I might just head back to that hairdresser across town he pointed out.