Ihave hardly slept. The septic smell emanating from the bathroom is making me nauseous and I cannot get this out of my head. I spend the whole night, awake, making my case for going to look for a room at the Palais Jamais in the morning. This bath has a brass sink basin that splatters water all over you and we have not had the patience to wait for truely HOT water. It is now five weeks on the road and I am not in the mood for camping. We have only paid for two nights here anyway and the food is just not that great for the price. Princess mode is in order, I think.
At breakfast, we discuss this. Tucker is making the case for trying to get plane tickets for home today. We agree that it would be best to assure ourselves of a room at the Palais Jamais first....just in case we can't leave Morocco today. The Palais is just a short walk to the top of the alley that we took when we arrived two days earlier.
The desk manager is wonderful to us. Assuring us that they have room for us this evening, he also goes the extra mile and calls the airport for us to see if the tickets can be changed. He returns with the answer that we would have to go to the airport to make any such changes. He calls a taxi for us. The taxi arrives at the front door!..what a great idea. $30 later and a nice ride with a very friendly and kind cabby, we are done. It is impossible to make such changes at the airport. It must be done at a travel agency that books for that airline. We drive around until we find the office, but it is Sunday and this office just isn't open. Back to the Palais Jamais to book a room. For only $40 more, we will have a modern room, one of the biggest and best breakfast buffets I have ever enjoyed, a pool, a choice of restaurants, people to watch and a long hot shower.
Back down the alley to give the Riad Arabesque the good news that we will be leaving. We have always dealt with Abdul, who speaks the best English and also wears alot of different "hats". Tucker stays in the lobby to settle up with Abdul....a truely priceless bit of repartee, I understand. Tucker will have to tell you all about that. I go up and repack again and am ready to leave in 20 minutes flat. Abdul helps us get the luggage back up the hill to the Palais Jamais.
The majority of the people staying at this hotel are French. It obviously caters to the French traveler and businessman. Another language to be heard here and the promise of French cooking. The elevator to the fourth floor is just large enough to hold three people and is lined with old varnished wood, mirrors, brass and granite. Lovely. Dry. Clean and rich. The room is delightfully bright and fresh. Lacks the character of the Arabesque, but I crave warm and fresh and convenient.
But wait. Just as we are about to have a go at the shower, the phone rings and Tucker is asked to come back down to the lobby to clear up some error in the paperwork. Apparently Abdul has returned to say that their was a mistake in the bill. Tucker is told that he would have to RETURN to the Riad Arabesque in order to put things straight. This is also a pretty good story that I will leave to Tucker.
Finally showered and dressed in my salwaar kameez, we head down to the patio to enjoy the luncheon buffet in the sunshine. There is a great view of the Medina from here. For dessert, we take a petit taxi to the local supermarket. This is one of our favorite things to do in a new country. It says alot about a culture when you can see what is offered in their "modern" grocery stores. We stock up on vodka, cookies, cheese, crackers and chips. We're staying in for the evening to watch Moroccan T.V. When we go to find a taxi to return, we are told that there is a staging area at the end of the mall and that we must take the first taxi in line.
I'm contented and asleep by 8 p.m. It is the first night that I have really slept well in four days. At 5:30 a.m. we are awakened by the call to prayer.... by the microphone ghost....who sings to Allah via a slowly revolving loudspeaker installed atop the minaret. Progress everywhere these days. I am beginning to fantasize about the concept of "sleeping in" and how delicious it must be to awaken when your body tells you it is ready to arise.
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