The old is charming if a little grubby (but I think this adds to the charm) with it's narrow streets and ramparts. I had a coffee in the Café do Mar looking out over a small square below. The café has a collection of old valve radios, that took me back to my early childhood when we had a similar device in our 'front room'. I can remember looking at the dial and seeing place names like Hilversum, Strasbourg, and Luxembourg which seemed so exotic to a small child.
I took a walk along the harbour breakwater where the warm sunshine had encouraged local boys to go swimming in the harbour. I noticed a man floating in a truck inner tube (let's call him Bob) wearing a high vis vest! He was actually fishing with a hand-line, and when I looked further I could see a number of them spread out across the outer reaches of the harbour.
On the breakwater they had those concrete blocks specially designed to be stable and absorb the force of the winter storms. Did you ever play that game 'Jacks' as a child where you bounce a small rubber ball and have to snatch up the jacks and catch the ball before it bounces again? These concrete structures look like a set of jacks that belong to a giant. Hasn't todays blog been a trip down memory lane?!!
The new part of the town is brash with it's neon and fast food. There are still very few foreigners here but the advent of the Easter break, back in Europe, has sent a few more (mostly Germans) this way.
One disturbing phenomena that I have noticed, first in Rabat and then here, is the number of middle aged women who are sleeping rough. You wonder what has caused them to be homeless. Perhaps they were unfaithful to their husbands or perhaps they did not iron his shirts just right. Whatever the cause they certainly do not deserve this precarious and miserable existence. Darling, make sure my dinner's on the table when I return (only joking)!
Riding the bike today unfettered by luggage and myself unfettered of thick protective riding wear, was refreshing. The bike felt more spritely as I twisted through the traffic on the way to the sea front. I got admiring glances from locals who must have thought this a powerful beast, compared to all the mopeds and scooters, whereas in the UK it would not have got a second glance.
Yesterday, on the way down to El Jadida, I passed an old man in white robes and a white turban tending his crops in the field. He waved enthusiastically as I went past so I gave him the peace sign. This sparked him off into an energetic jigging dance. It is moments like that that make the trip worthwhile.
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