Sunflower Field from Bus
I arrived last night in Essaouira after a long, rather exhausting day of travel. I got up at 630 and left Chefchaouen (walk to square, take petite taxi to bus station). Then, I had a 6-hour-long bus ride to Casablanca. Partway through the trip, at one of the stops, I realized that two women had started to argue near me. They fought about who would sit in which seat. Things escalated and soon, they were both yelling at one another at top volume (in French and Arabic). I understood nearly nothing, but I did understand that they were about to fistfight! The other passengers were looking on, chiming in, most seemed quite entertained. Finally, someone calmed the women down enough to take seats (neither was too pleased and one of them was sitting next to me, fuming indignantly) and the bus continued its journey.
When we finally arrived in Casablanca, I realized that I had to collect my bags from the bus (no luggage transfer service!) I tried to ask someone where I needed to take them to recheck them for my next bus ride to Essaouira. The man working there who I spoke with was not even remotely interested in helping me. He seemed to be telling me to take my luggage and go. I had first spoken to him in Spanish, as I had been doing at the bus station in Chefchaouen. This man did not speak Spanish. Okay…. So I tried to ask him in English. No luck. He turned away, clearly done with me, and started speaking to someone else, someone else who worked there he obviously just wanted to chat to. I had typed the questions into Google Translate on my phone and tried show him my question about where to go, but he ignored me, even though I was standing right there! I was more than just unhappy with that, and so went to find someone else.
Inside the station, I found the area where people were checking their bags who had just arrived. I arrived at the front of the line and when the lady read my ticket, she told me, realizing I didn’t speak her language, the number 15. I understood finally that she wasn’t asking for 15 dirhams for my luggage fee, but rather that I couldn’t return until 1500 hours to check in my bags. That was more than 2 hours away. She was quite rude, and not interested in any sort of compromise. By then, I really just wanted to check my bags so I could just go to the bathroom and maybe find something to eat before my next bus ride which would be 8 hours long!
I approached a likely looking girl at the help desk then and asked her if I could please leave my bag with her for just a minute and if she could direct me to a toilet. Trust me when I tell you that it is not practical to bring one’s luggage into a toilet that may very well be a hole in the ground…. And in any case, the only one I had seen thus far was in the area accessible only to passengers (which I couldn’t enter until after I had checked my bags after 1500!). I was pretty peeved and upset by then, and she could see that. She spoke enough English to ask me what was wrong. I explained to her my problem and she kindly asked her manager if I could check my bag now, rather than later. Her manager overrode the grumpy lady at the check-in desk, and I was able to get rid of my luggage, find a toilet, and leave the station!
I walked away, looking for a restaurant where I could get some food. I found a place with an upstairs where I could go, as a single woman, and not be too out of place. Even still, I was swarmed by waiters when I came in (all trying to guess which language to speak to me in!) but I followed one that guessed correctly up to a table. Unfortunately, I had trouble with the food I ate, and couldn’t keep it all down. After only a small amount of food and some mint tea, I returned to the bus station for the next leg of my journey.
On this bus, things went alright until the last couple of hours when some young guy sat next to me who spoke a little English. He and his friends were also going to Essaouira for the festival, it seemed. We chatted a little, and then he started asking me for money! I played dumb and said I didn’t understand what he wanted. He just kept repeating numbers and Dirham, which I didn’t really understand initially anyways. Once I did figure it out, I was pretty irritated that he would just think I had extra money to give to him. I’m not sure why he thought I would.
He was getting rather insistent when we got to one of the stops in Essaouira. I wasn’t sure if mine would be this one or the next. I’d been texting Youness on my way into town, my airbnb host, so I called him and then, at his okay, hustled off the bus at the last moment at that stop, grabbing my luggage and not giving the moocher any money. Ah, the joys of travel….
Youness and Rossina’s Balcony
Then, I stood at the bus stop and fended off taxi drivers until Youness pulled up in a taxi and picked me up! I was really relieved to see him, I must say, after the day I’d had. He took me to his place, where I met a Belgian girl named Anna, who is here for the festival also. I didn’t meet Youness’ girlfriend yet. His home is nice and has a rooftop terrace.
- Youness’ Baby Eagle
(Didn’t want to get too close and scare it!)
He’s nursing a little baby eagle to health on his roof! He found it without a mother and he’s been feeding it and raising it. This morning he fed it raw meat. He thinks it’s getting ready to fly away on its own soon. Fascinating.
Should be a pretty decent place to stay during the festival this week. Either way, at least I don’t have to get on a bus for a while!