After two nights on the coast in Oualidia, we drove about three hours to Casablanca.
We arrived at the Royal Mansour, settled into our room, and almost immediately decided to go for a walk.
Our plan was simple: walk to United Nations Square.
It became a little more adventurous than we'd intended.
Finding Our Own Way
On the way to the square, a man approached us and started telling us how lucky we were to be there at exactly that moment.
There was a special shop nearby.
Of course there was.
He led us to it.
We looked around, didn't buy anything, and continued toward the square.
Nothing about the area particularly grabbed us, but we were doing well navigating on our own, so we decided to keep going to the Hassan II Mosque.
Google Maps showed us a route.
We followed it.
Through the Old Neighborhood
The route took us through an older, impoverished neighborhood filled with narrow streets and turns.
There were food stalls everywhere.
Fish sitting out in the open.
Cooked chickens.
Other foods we couldn't identify and couldn't imagine eating.
We kept walking.
Eventually we emerged from the old neighborhood and reached the mosque.
It was enormous.
We walked around the outside, then decided we'd had enough adventure for the afternoon and headed back toward the hotel.
This time, we chose a different route.
We followed the busy road near the ocean that we'd driven on when we arrived.
It was much more comfortable.
Along the way, we passed Rick's Café, inspired by the movie Casablanca. We thought it would be fun to stop for a drink.
It was closed.
So we kept walking.
Casablanca from Above
By the time we reached the Royal Mansour, we were tired.
We rested for a while and then went upstairs to the rooftop restaurant for dinner.
The view was incredible.
From above, Casablanca seemed to stretch forever.
And dinner was exceptional.
Maybe too exceptional.
We'd already learned on our previous long trip that we couldn't eat elaborate hotel meals every night, no matter how good they were.
This life was going to require a little restraint.
Another Moroccan Breakfast
The next morning, breakfast provided another reminder that ordering food in Morocco didn't necessarily mean receiving only what you'd ordered.
There were six pastries.
A basket of bread.
Moroccan pancakes.
And everything else we'd actually asked for.
There was no universe in which the two of us could possibly eat it all.
Looking down from the hotel, I also noticed something completely unrelated to breakfast.
The streets were filled with small red taxis—more than half the cars seemed to be taxis—and buses were everywhere.
I found myself wondering whether we were looking at a version of the future, where fewer people owned individual automobiles and simply used transportation when they needed it.
Just another stray thought from the road.
Hassan II Mosque
Later that morning, we toured the city with our guide and returned to the Hassan II Mosque.
Seeing the outside the previous afternoon hadn't prepared us for going inside.
It was magnificent.
The scale, craftsmanship and architecture were extraordinary.
When I entered, I got goosebumps.
The only comparison that came immediately to mind was Sagrada Família in Barcelona.
They looked nothing alike.
It was the feeling that was similar—that involuntary sense of awe when human beings have created something on a scale and with a level of beauty that overwhelms you for a moment.
Of everything we saw in Casablanca, the mosque was easily the highlight.
A Small Victory
We also saw more of the modern part of Casablanca.
It was much more walkable than the old neighborhood we'd accidentally wandered through the previous day, with shops, cafés and places where we felt comfortable exploring on our own.
Later, we walked to a restaurant.
No guide.
No hotel restaurant.
We figured it out ourselves, ordered drinks and ordered dinner.
I recorded our accomplishment succinctly:
"Yea for us."
It wasn't exactly a heroic achievement.
But these small moments mattered.
We were becoming increasingly comfortable navigating unfamiliar places without someone arranging every detail for us.
What We'll Remember
We'll remember setting out for United Nations Square and getting temporarily diverted into the obligatory "you are incredibly lucky because this special shop is open today" experience.
We'll remember trusting Google Maps and finding ourselves walking through an old neighborhood where we were clearly outside our comfort zone.
We'll remember the food stalls and the fish sitting in the open.
We'll remember emerging from the neighborhood and deciding that the busy road along the ocean was a much more comfortable way back.
We'll remember trying unsuccessfully to stop for a drink at Rick's Café.
We'll remember the enormous rooftop view over Casablanca and another dinner that was far more food than we needed.
We'll remember breakfasts that seemed designed for six people instead of two.
We'll remember walking into a restaurant on our own and feeling disproportionately pleased that we successfully ordered dinner.
But mostly, we'll remember the Hassan II Mosque.
We'll remember walking inside and getting goosebumps.
Would We Return?
Probably not specifically to Casablanca.
We're very glad we saw it, particularly the mosque, but nothing about the city created a strong pull to return.
If we did come back, we'd probably stay in the more modern, walkable part of the city rather than near the old medina.
That was another useful lesson.
We were beginning to understand that where we stayed within a city could dramatically affect how comfortable we felt exploring it.
On July 12, after eleven days in Morocco, we packed again and headed to the airport.
Getting from the Royal Mansour onto the plane would turn out to be one final Moroccan adventure.