Casablanca

A pretty sunrise view from Royal Air Maroc.

In my mind Casablanca was a movie--my mother's favorite--before it became a place. Unlike the locals, the Lonely Planet guidebook insists not a frame was shot in the city.

The medina, a short walk from the hotel,  enclosed us in an ancient culture on a lively Saturday morning.

The produce looked irresistibly fresh.  Morocco was the Roman Empire's breadbasket.

Pomegranates are a dessert staple.

Haircut, anyone?

Some vendors were friendlier than others.  All were male.

Mickey put in an appearance, too.

Neither Thom nor I could figure out what this galleon was doing on a roof.

A five-point stars appears on the national flag and in many other places, including trucks.

The king peers out from EVERYWHERE, including bank notes.  This one is worth $20.

Muslim women don't like to have their photos taken.  I waited until this one turned her back.

Surprisingly, Casablanca has few tourist attractions, so the Hassan II Mosque, the 3rd largest in the world, is a must-see even though it opened in 1993.  The Atlantic Ocean borders the north side.

Thom worshipped the early afternoon son.

I took a selfie against a bronze door.

Six thousand Moroccans worked five years to produce the incredible decorative intricacy that links the country's past with the present.  

Islam prohibits the imagery of living things other than flowers.

The streets of Casablanca also boast a lot of French colonial architecture.  France ruled Morocco for nearly half the 20th century.

We picked up some goodies at Patisserie Bennis Habous before heading to a cafe for some mint tea. A very refreshing respite!