Many tourists skip Casablanca when visiting Morocco, which is a shame. With its lively culture and beach allure, as well as architectural gems wrapped into everyday life, Casablanca offers the kind of local immersion most travellers desire. So, why do some say it is not worth a visit? In Diary of a Solo Cruiser: Part 3, Davida gets into the case of Casablanca, dispelling her own fears along the way. Be sure to sign up and follow the series if you would like to receive the latest updates from WoW by email.
“Welcome to Casablanca,” Rachid said, strapping into his seat inside a grand taxi, an old white Mercedes. Checking his mirrors, he pulled out of Place des Nations Unies, one of Casablanca’s main squares. The skies had opened, pounding the pavements with rain and shrouding the city in misty mystique. I sat mutely beside him, feeling little flutters of anxiety in my chest.
Also in the series…
- Diary of a Solo Cruiser: Part 1 – Setting Sail
- Diary of a Solo Cruiser: Part 2 – Ripped at the Rock (Gibraltar)
It was my first visit to Morocco, a country that had long held my fascination. Between amplified negative tourist experiences and news reports of women often facing endemic harassment, Morocco wasn’t somewhere I’d pictured exploring on my own. As such, my decision to eventually venture out solo in Casablanca had come with some trepidation.
Solo female travel in Casablanca, Morocco
Surely, I’ll join a ship tour and lose myself in the safety of numbers and structured predictability, I thought. But I missed the deadline to sign up for that. Surely, I’m not going to go out alone, I thought as I descended the ship’s gangway. Taxis were available, but there was a shuttle bus waiting to ferry Black Watch guests out of Casa Port station.
Heavily armed presence outside Casa Port heightened the anxious feeling. I scanned my surroundings as I got off the bus at Place des Nations Unies, trying to get my bearings. A group of grim-faced tourists stood to one side of me, their displeasure with Casablanca apparent in the snippets that floated into my ears.
“It’s as grotty as I remember.“
“Do they know what paint is?“
“I don’t know who has the right of way, but it must be the bravest.“
A woman broke free and approached, eyeing me curiously. “Are you going to explore Casablanca on your own?”
I took a deep breath to steady myself and still the pounding in my chest. “Yes. I am.”
“Be careful. Be very, very careful. Casablanca is not worth it,” she warned with a steely glare. My heart skipped a beat. Wasn’t it?
The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page.
Saint Augustine
Driving around Casablanca
I repressed an urge to recoil from the taxi drivers who surged toward me as if on cue. They touted for business, each clamouring to take me anywhere I wanted. Adopting a confident stance ahead of this solo exploration, I met and held Rachid’s gaze. We agreed a rate. I followed silently as he led me to his car in a line-up of grand taxis.
WoW Tip: Whether you hire a driver privately like I did, or as part of a group tour, bear in mind that tipping is generally expected. How much you tip depends on the distance and service rendered.
“Welcome to Casablanca,” Rachid said, slipping smoothly into the role of a tour guide proud to show his city to new eyes. As he sped off, I peeked through the rain-splattered window. It occurred to me, in a muddled sort of way, that Casablanca seemed to have few tourists. Perhaps it was the weather. Perhaps, it was because many of them gave Casablanca a wide berth.
Emblematic red petit-taxis whizzed past us, honking loudly as people haphazardly crossed roads. It was a living, breathing sensory medley. Pockets of small, local markets gave insights into Moroccan street life, artefacts and vibrant shopping opportunities.
Homey was the last word to describe Casablanca. Yet, for this Ghana native, it all felt instantly familiar.
I sat back, feeling a sharp ache of homesickness for Accra. I snapped myself back to the present, ready to see some of Casablanca’s main sights.
- Recommended read: 14 Things To Know About Ghana
Hassan II Mosque
The minaret of Hassan II Mosque peeked through the mist, standing proud. At 210 metres, the minaret is the highest in the world. Up close, the Arab-Islamic architecture was grabbing, with hand-carved stone and wood displayed above intricate marble flooring. Looking out towards the Atlantic, the outstandingly-detailed mosque can accommodate over 100,000 worshippers inside and on its courtyard.
La Corniche
Continuing on the coastal road west of Hassan II Mosque, Casablanca’s palm-lined boulevards soon gave way to Playas Ain Diab y La Corniche. The promenade has restaurants, beach clubs and spots promising lively entertainment by the Atlantic Ocean. Despite the rain, you could imagine it being a great spot for people-watching, beach strolls and general good vibes.
“This place must be jammin’ when the weather is nice,” I said.
“Oh yes,” Rachid responded enthusiastically. “You like to dance?”
“I love dancing.”
“Then you’ll like it here in the night.”
Rick’s Cafe
The mythical Rick’s Cafe, recreated from the 1942 film, Casablanca, sits in a courtyard-style mansion. Some guests on Black Watch had shared with me how much they’d enjoyed its chill atmosphere, fresh seafood and piano music on previous visits. Unlike other visitors to Casablanca, I had neither watched the film nor felt a particular draw to the popular cafe. Still, Rachid slowed the car as we neared it, checking once again if I was sure I didn’t want to go in. I shook my head and took a quick picture. Satisfied with this move, he drove on. I hid a smile.
Kenzi Tower Hotel Sky Bar
Kenzi Tower Hotel’s Sky 28 Bar is one of Casablanca’s premier spots for panoramic views. From its 28th level, Sky 28 has sweeping views of Hassan II Mosque, La Corniche, the city centre and beyond. Although I wasn’t in the city long enough to experience it, I knew it would have been the perfect spot for cocktails at sunset.
An artisan experience of Casablanca
Back in the car after Sky Bar 28, Rachid broke the short silence that had fallen between us. He had a smile that reached his eyes, often lit in pleasure at my spoken French. Our conversation had slowly become a fluid mix of Franglais, both of us intermittently switching between French and English for complex parts we couldn’t express fluently in the other’s respective language.
I was relaxed, the tension released from my spine as we used the driving time to chat. And so when he said, “I take you somewhere…toutes sortes de tapis marocain et articles d’artisanat,” I looked forward to it. A Moroccan artisan shop certainly sounded like my scene.
This led us to Exposition Artisanale Casablanca where I met Abdul and Ali. Fawning over me, they called me Mama Africa, making me laugh. The shop had Moroccan bed throws, carpets and such like. Abdul and Ali buzzed about, their warmth apparent in their smiles.
Ali, who had once lived in England, regaled me with tales from his time in Yorkshire.
Abdul went straight to his main question. “Are you married?” He asked.
I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. “Who wants to know?”
“Me. I want to marry you.”
“Oh yea? Pick a number and join the queue.” He clutched his chest in mock heartbreak. I laughed. What can I say? Your girl’s got the gift of the gab.
Shopping at a bazaar in Casablanca
For my final stop, Rachid dropped me at the central bazaar, conveniently across the street from Place des Nations Unies where I would take the shuttle bus back to the ship. Old medinas and colourful bazaars have long drawn travellers to this North African country. I walked past stalls with traditional home décor, souvenirs, colourful geometric patterned carpets, woven textiles, beaded jewelry boxes, dried fruits, spices and more. Much like Ghana, haggling is a good-natured art form when shopping in Morocco.
Final thoughts on solo travel in Casablanca
The sun broke through the clouds and dispelled the rain showers from before, burnishing the city with a new glow.
In Casablanca I felt a heightened rush of vulnerability, alone-ness and otherness that comes with being a solo female traveller. Had I acted from my initial place of fear, I would not have gone out to see the city. Casablanca taught me to not place limiting beliefs on myself, especially based on other people’s experiences. This is not to say Casablanca, and Morocco at large, does not have its problems – or that some tourists haven’t had negative experiences while visiting.
Don’t be afraid of the world, but be aware of what is happening. Don’t let people make you afraid of where you’re going, but do your due diligence.
Luvvie Ajayi Jones – Rants & Randomness, Bonus Episode 7
I am not an authority on Casablanca. At best, I’d hoped to push through fears I’d imbibed about Morocco and catch a glimpse of its soul. What I got was a day filled with humour, warmth and embracing difference. Ultimately, if we don’t step out of the confines of fear, we will never experience the world in all its texture and nuance.
As the bus made a final turn at Casa Port, I fixed my gaze on seven Moroccan flags held in place at the base by concrete stones. A five-point green star on a red background. Each flag billowed in the wind as though bidding me farewell. I watched until they disappeared from view.
If you ever have a chance to visit, I say go and experience it for yourself. Casablanca is worth a visit – and then some more.
Tune in next time on the Diary of a Solo Cruiser to find out what went down in Cadiz, the next port of call on the solo cruise. To keep up with WoW updates, simply pop your email below.
