An Extended Layover in Morocco

I went to Casablanca in May 2018 on what was supposed to be a quick overnight layover on my way to Lisbon to meet up with some friends. What ended up happening was far beyond anything I could have ever imagined…

A Rocky Arrival in Morrocco

When I first landed in Morocco, I realized I was not able to use my phone, and therefore could not finish communicating with my Airbnb host to get his contact information or the apartment number of the place I was supposed to stay at. (This was poor planning on my part as I had booked my trip two weeks prior and hadn’t prepared thoroughly enough.)

I also did not expect customs to take so damn long, and didn’t realize that the airport was an over an hour away from the city. When I finally boarded the train to take me into the city from the airport, I realized that I would be arriving much later than I anticipated. My visions of eating a delicious, authentic Moroccan meal surrounded by colorful poufs and tiles dissipated into the dark night.

The train was extremely dirty and rundown. You couldn't see out of the windows at all as they were so fogged up. (I'm not sure from what). There were stains on all the seats, and I gingerly tried avoiding touching them at all costs. I settled down as best I could, and tried to detox from the long flight.

Making New Friends

Just a few minutes before the train left, two men rushed onto the train with their luggage, exclaiming gratefully to each other in American English as the train pulled away from the platform shortly after. They settled into the two seats across the aisle from me. Relief flooded my body at the sound of my mother tongue being spoken in a foreign place. I deduced from their discussion that they were two accountants from New York, and were a few years older than me. I debated for a few minutes whether to initiate a conversation with the two men, and finally decided to strike up a conversation with the man sitting closest to me.

They were in town for a work conference that they had also attended last year. They were also going to be in Lisbon, potentially during the same time I was. We ended up chatting for the entirety of the train ride, and disembarked at the last stop together. One of them had a Moroccan girlfriend who was picking them up from the train stop. The one who had been sitting closest to me handed me his business card, extending a polite offer for me to join them for dinner. They told me they were meeting up with their Moroccan friend who was a little crazy apparently, and whom I should meet. I took the card gratefully and waved goodbye, my mind already jumping worriedly to how I was going to find and get into my Airbnb without a working phone.

Airbnb Troubles

An eventful cab ride later (where my driver accidentally grazed the side mirror of a motorbike, which caused him to park the car in the middle of the road with the driver side door open as he and the motorist yelled at each other in the street), I finally arrived at my Airbnb at around 11:30 pm.

After spending 45 minutes panicking about being locked outside of my Airbnb alone on a dark street, I finally made it into the building. I had just been about to give up to try and find a hotel for the night.

I was shaken and very much ready for bed. I dreaded the thought already of having to make the same long commute by myself only a few hours later to go back to the airport to catch my next flight to Lisbon.

After connecting to the WiFi and charging my phone, I set about finding a place to eat. The area I was in did not have many places that were still open. I didn’t know what to do. Then I remembered the two accountants, and pulled out the business card one of them had given me.

I input his number in my phone, inquired about his dinner plans, and hit send. Then I hopped in the shower, resigning myself to a quiet and hungry night in by myself. However, he had responded by the time I had showered with the name of a place he was meeting a friend.

When I looked up Balcon 33, I realized that it was a club/restaurant on Boulevard de la Corniche, which was by the beach and on the complete opposite end of town. My stomach dropped inwardly as I recollected how difficult it had been for me to get into the Airbnb in the first place. I debated not going. I thought about my early flight the next day. But I also thought about my empty stomach, and the fact that it was my first time in Morocco, and I only had tonight. I decided to make the most of it. 

A Night to Remember

I grabbed my keys and bag and ran downstairs. I was able to hail a cab after walking over a few streets, and soon found myself hurtling through town through quiet and empty streets.

Fifteen minutes later, I arrived outside a beachside club with neon flashing lights on the outside. The inside was dark and hazy from cigarette smoke. I made my way through the restaurant and finally found Farid sitting next to a balding Moroccan man in the brightly lit area in the back. Both of them immediately jumped up and greeted me warmly. Farid introduced me to his friend, Pierre, (the balding French-Moroccan man) whom I liked instantly. (The other accountant was with his Moroccan girlfriend.) My hesitations and anxieties about the night dissipated. I settled down into the booth and picked up the menu.

We spent the night talking and laughing over fish and wine. They told me about their plans to drive to Marrakech the next day and suggested I come along. I laughed it off, telling them that I had a flight to Lisbon the next morning. After dinner we decided to go to a nearby club. Pierre drove us over in his car. We ended up dancing the night away. I couldn’t imagine what others might have thought of the three of us. We were such an odd pairing - a thirty something Pakistani accountant from New York with a forty year old French Moroccan man and a 23 year old Asian American girl from New York. I laughed at the thought. But somehow, we worked. We all got along really well together. I was thrilled with how unexpectedly fun the night had become. 

The hours got later. Marrakech got brought up again. They both were trying to convince me to go. I looked up one way flights for later in the week from Casablanca to Lisbon to entertain them. The prices weren’t bad - around $100 - $200, and I had just gotten a raise at work. I let myself get used to the idea.

We finally decided to leave, hopping into Pierre’s car. He had kindly offered to drive me back to my place. However, before we headed there we stopped at a beach nearby. 

It felt amazing to feel sand between my toes again. Since it was 4:30 am, we were the only ones on the beach. The night was cool, and the ocean waves lapped calmly against the shore. We made our way over the large rocks on the beach toward the lighthouse, and started climbing up. It was exhilarating being on the other side of the world with two new friends I had just met, on a new adventure and making memories of a lifetime. At one point I paused and looked out over the vast, dark ocean. My heart felt lighter and I felt so free. All the anxieties I had had in the past few months slipped away. I breathed in deeply, reminding myself that this was the true purpose of life. To live. Work and the petty stressors of everyday life shouldn’t matter at the end of the day. I couldn’t believe that just the night before I had been in my room in New York, business as usual. And now here I was, on the other side of the world. And all it took was a spontaneous decision to book a plane ticket, and a seven hour flight. Marrakech seemed like a better and better idea.

When I finally got home around 5 am slightly tipsy still, I got on my laptop and started looking at the new Lisbon flights again. I didn’t have to be anywhere I thought to myself. It’s not like I had meetings or anything that I needed to attend there the next day. Just because I had a ticket there didn’t mean anything. The friends I was originally supposed to meet up with weren’t arriving till later in the week anyway. I had originally planned on exploring the city by myself for the first few days.

I grabbed my credit card, wavered for a few more minutes, then hit Confirm Booking. I texted Farid telling him that I had booked a new flight, and would go with them. Heart racing, I fell into bed and fell asleep.

A Spontaneous Adventure

I woke up in a panic three hours later. What had I been thinking? I barely knew those men. Even though we had fun the night before, embarking on a two day road trip with just the two of them was something different entirely. What if something happened? What if they didn’t end up even going? I glanced at the clock. If I acted fast enough, I could still make my flight that morning. 

After more debating, I decided to continue on my leap of faith, and attempted to go back to bed. Farid had also not responded to my text yet, and I was trying not to freak out. He’s still asleep, I told myself. It’s still early. It was only 8:30 am and we had had a late night. However, I still spent the next hour and a half alternating between trying to fall back asleep and not being successful, and trying not to panic, but also panicking while checking my phone repeatedly, waiting for him to text me back.

He finally responded, telling me to meet them at Gossip Beach for breakfast. I quickly got dressed and set about packing my stuff. I stopped at a bakery nearby before hailing another cab to meet them. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. 

My worries started to disappear once I got to the restaurant. Gossip Beach turned out to be a beautiful rooftop restaurant by the beach with unobstructed views of the ocean. Farid and Pierre were there with the other accountant and his girlfriend, who was a tall, beautiful blonde woman. I was in awe of her beauty. It was a beautiful sunny day. The table was filled with empty plates and drinks. They urged me to order food. I got fresh fruit, toast with different spreads, and joined in their conversation. They were all very relaxed, and in no hurry to leave. I tried to relax as well. 

After breakfast, we parted ways with the other accountant and his girlfriend and got into Pierre’s car. I still couldn’t believe I was doing this. I settled into the back for our 2.5 hour drive to Marrakech.

*Names and minor identifying details have been changed.

to be continued…