Amazingly, we still fit in Tahar's 4-wheel drive vehicle — us, our suitcases, and three boxes filled to the brim with souvenirs that were not already shipped home. That in itself is a testament of restraint.
The drive north along the coast is beautiful — long expanses of open land and undeveloped beaches dotted with farms and upscale estates. Apparently, too, some good places for surfing . . . Further along, we pass by Kasbah Hamidouch, which we are told is in ruins. Unfortunately, our journey to Casablanca is long, so there is no time for additional stops. We also drive through Safi, an important sardine-processing port city and industrial center, and Oualidia, known for its outstanding oysters. Unfortunately, we do not stop!
Previously known as Mazagan under the Portuguese, El Jadida was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2004. Parking across from the ramparts, we head to lunch — seafood. Afterwards, we visit one of the most magical places I've seen, the Manueline Cistern, which we are told was built underground in 1514. First used as an arsenal, then an armory, it did not function as an actual cistern until 1541. In modern times, it wasn't rediscovered until 1916, when by chance a shopkeeper knocked out a wall. Square in shape, its vaults rest on twenty-five columns, arranged in five rows. The well sits in the center of the "roof," which allows for daylight to enter and create amazing reflections in the shallow stagnant water giving it an ethereal and mysterious ambiance. So captivated was Orson Wells by the Cistern, he used it as a location in his film Othello (1952).
Checking into the Val d'Anfa, the same hotel we began our adventure, the chaos begins. First, the air conditioning isn't working. Next, repacking needs to be tackled. By dinnertime, Jewel has decided not to join Gypsy and me for our final gastronomic experience in Morocco . . . this trip. At the pre-arranged hour, Tehar picks us up and whisks us along the Corniche to the Restaurant La Mer. Much to our amazement the restaurant is virtually empty. We are seated beside a wall of glass looking out into the Atlantic Ocean. New York is just beyond the horizon — somewhere. First time that I can remember watching the sun set over the Atlantic Ocean. Pretty beautiful. And, as lovely as dinner is our moods are more melancholy than expectant for what tomorrow will bring. Though there are few patrons in the restaurant, service is slow. How slow? Tehar is back promptly after 90 minutes to pick us up and there is no time for dessert. No worries, we have dessert at the Val d'Anfa, which regrettably was not worth photographing!