Casablanca by train
After a day of the worst feeling in a long time, that being homesickness of which Chester was extremely patient, we awoke with a revitalised air of positivity. Based on it's reputation within books and word of mouth, we decided to treat ourselves to a day trip and take the train from Rabat.
Casablanca is the home to one of the world's largest mosques, requested by the previous king and paid for largely by the Moroccan people. Many of which will never see or visit the site. The minaret guided us towards a beautiful, yet ostentatious, ornate piece of architecture. King Hassan wanted the workmanship and traditional skills of the Moroccan people to be reflected and shown, ranging from wood carving, tellij (pattern carved into the wet plaster work) geometric mosaic tiling, ironmongery. The list goes on.
The scale of the building is immense. From the minaret to the doors to the drinking water fountains that adorn the building. With certain aspects of this fabulous intoxicating country, it provides a difficult paradox to that which we have seen.
Unfortunately, as we are now accustomed, out timing was a little off kilt and we arrived just as the mosque was closing to the public. It was still a worthwhile visit. A glimpse inside revealed chandeliers, highly decorative ceilings, plush carpets, carved balconies.
The place also provided respite from the grime and noise of the city. From which, after a saunter in the sunshine, past the ever present militia, we boarded our train back to Rabat.
More photos to follow...........
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