Mohammedia and Casablanca

Reconstruction of the pontoons

At first the French speaking member of staff on the pontoon in the harbour at Mohammedia told us there was no room and we must go outside and anchor. We could see three empty berths but repairs were taking place on the pontoon. We were allowed to tie up and had to reverse into a berth with a short finger. We had to pick up a bowline attached to a submerged mooring and secure it over our bows. Immediately Coastguard or Maritime Police arrived and checked our papers. Then the marina manager came and said we could not stay as he had boats coming in. Jeremy said we would leave if any boats came in. Next the Port Authority arrived, checked our papers and told us the charge was 26 euros or 265 dirhams per day. We were shocked as we’d been expecting to pay about 10 dirhams per day. Finally, Immigration and Customs came and our passports were stamped for entry. Later, we learned that the marina would charge 40 dirhams per day in addition to the port charge. These fees made Morocco as expensive as the UK.

Close and it is in reverse!

The marina was in the petroleum part of the harbour and big tankers were piloted in and pushed into their berth by tugboats only a few metres ahead of us. All day and night the engines or generators roared loudly and a rubbery, gas smell permeated the air as the tanks were filled. We began to wish we’d anchored outside.

Mohammedia is not a tourist destination (surprise, surprise)! Fortunately, we were given good directions by fellow yachties and found our way into town, stopping at the bank ATM for Moroccan dirhams. The train station was harder to find and about 45 mins walk from the marina. Here, we found a good Wi-Fi signal and information about trains to Casablanca.

On 3^rd November we got a taxi to the station (7 dirhams) and bought return tickets to Casablanca, about 14 miles away. At first we had to stand as the double decker train was full. On arrival, a few taxi touts tried hard to persuade us to part with our money and take tours. We took a guess at the main road into town and walked away. A policeman directed us to Tourist Information and we found a tiny, glass-cube office near a tramline. The young man inside spoke good English, but he only had tramline maps and one leaflet in English. He directed us to the Christian art deco church. We walked for 60 minutes at last finding a gateway through the sheet metal fencing which surrounded the church. The church was being renovated; no entry allowed. Jeremy was cross and frustrated. (Kathy polished her halo.)

Elusive Art Deco Church

Our day improved when we worked out the French style of designing cities with roads radiating from plazas. Since we had a tramline map, we followed the line and made our way back to the harbour. We found the more interesting old town behind the old city wall, bustling with local people, but we avoided the narrow alleys and kept to the main streets.

Play it for me Sam

The highlight of the day was Rick’s Café as featured in the film, “Casablanca”. The atmosphere was perfect with the décor and furniture straight out of the 1940’s. Our table was next to the piano and we frequently said to each other, “Play it for me, Sam.” Waiters in dinner suits served us our meal and we sipped Casablanca beer.

Here's looking at you kid

Then it was back to reality, a rush to catch the train and a taxi back to the marina. The noisy, smelly tanker had gone, but another less noisy one from Douglas, Isle of Man had arrived. The next morning, we moved to the anchorage.

View from the train - almost desert