This morning I stood on a rampart in the ancient kasbar in Rabat - circa 10th century, looking across the river at Sallee - similar antiquity - down to my right the attractive, French colonial "new rabat", and in between the most massive building /reclamation job in progress in the river bed - trendy new appartments and facilities. And to my left the sea.
Us island brits like to touch base with the sea pretty often, especially when travelling but there's an added certain something here because this is where my cornish forebears landed, captive slaves, to start their new lives. In chains.
If I had to live in a city I could live in Rabaet, but I'm not a city girl. Its cosmopolitan, very few minarets and mosques shape the skyline here and so far only one very faint call to prayer so it doesn't feel particularly exotic or even moroccan. Even the medina - medieval bit of town - is just that - old but not exotic or atmospheric. Definitely interesting though. Very solid and functional.
So far there have been more downs than ups prompting my usual travelling determination that this WILL be my last trip..................til I turn a corner as happened in tangier and the sun came out and I looked out at the straits of gibraltar sparkling in the sun. I could see spain, portugal and britain (gibraltar!) from my stance on african soil. It was glorious. The downs have been dark gloomy and even grotty hotels, staff unhelpdul to the point of surliness, pissing rain, wet shoes and socks, an unpleasantly unfresh bed..................and the feeling generally that the moroccans dont want us here and would be quite happy if we all pissed off back home. Are we that unfriendly to our tourists in britain? Quite probably! But then I sat on the terrace of aforementioned gloomy hotel and watched the new moon rise and the lights coming on in the port below and across the bay and listened to a protracted and beautiful stereo call to prayer and it was quite simply magical.
As always when landing in a new country the first challenge is crossing the road and staying alive; Acclimatisation is when you can do it without tagging on to some locals. I thought I was getting there but pride as ever comes before a fall...............there I was quivvering on the edge of a big main road with not a local or a traffic light in sight and ready to concede defeat when a nearby workman appeared grinning his head off, grabbed my arm and trotted me over in perfect safety!
Well, that and a change of hotel and it ain't so bad!!
Sallee tomorrow and the slave markets!
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