NOTE: This is the fifth entry in my “From Main To Morocco” blog series, chronicling my ten-day trip to various cities in the country of Morocco. Click here to read more entries in this series.
Bas is the Arabic word for “bus.” Much of this afternoon was spent riding a bus from Marrakech to the beach city of Agadir. Unfortunately, I slept away a pretty good portion of the trip, although I use the term “slept” loosely. For a better idea of what was actually going on, imagine a zombie-like state with small, random periods of lucidity punctuated by the occasional beam of sunlight that would peek through the bus curtains. However, once I did wake up, I took in as much as I could of the sights on the other side of the window.
[Unfortunately, I don’t have any pictures to share with you tonight. My camera was in my luggage, which was stored under the bus. You’ll just have to do with my description just this once.]
The mountains in this region are beautiful. Coming from Tennessee, my only real taste of mountains are the ones from the lower Appalachians that frame the city of Chattanooga. The mountains here are a little less gradual. Whereas Lookout Mountain slowly rises up to its peak, the mountains I saw appear to be much steeper and more jagged. The scope was also something to behold, as the land from the road to the mountains was mostly flat. It was interesting to watch the road signs whiz by while some of the trees and smaller hills further back crawled along … and the great mountains were almost unmoving.
[Yes, I realize this is just perspective. Still, it’s quite interesting visually, and I don’t really get to see anything with this kind of scope at home.]
Once we arrived in Agadir, we (along with our numerous bags) piled into a taxi and headed to our hotel, the Kenzi Europa. We checked in, where I experienced a mild level of panic when I couldn’t find my passport. I spent ten minutes in the lobby looking through my two bags, and I was starting to lose hope. The hotel manager let us into our rooms so that I could search a little more thoroughly. As it turned out, the passport was in my new messenger bag, stashed in a zippered pocket where I had placed it for more security. Cue face-palm.
Once that was sorted out, we had lunch at a place called Camel’s along the boardwalk, where we had a few more options cuisine-wise. This place had pizza, burgers, New Orleans-style food, steaks — much more than some of the more traditional food we had been having. It was a nice change of pace. Of course, the pace would really be changed a few hours later for dinner.
For dinner, I had McDonald’s. Yes, McDonald’s. There is one right on the beach, and I ventured down there along with Erik and his girlfriend Kate, whom we met up with here in Agadir. Judy decided to stay behind and rest for the evening. And I can’t blame her. It’s been get-up-and-go for the past four days, so taking a break wasn’t exactly ill-advised.
But back to McDonald’s.
I am happy to report that America’s (and, seemingly, the world’s) favorite fast food franchise is well represented in Agadir. The restaurant itself is quite nice inside, and the food is pretty much the same McDonald’s fare that we have come to love (and that generally tries to kill us). There are a few exceptions, of course, but it’s much more similar than I was expecting.
Tomorrow, I will bring you the beach — and more than likely drive my wife’s envy of this trip through the roof. It’s absolutely beautiful here. You’ll see for yourself soon enough.