We set the alarm a little earlier today in expectation of some inefficient processing at Mohammad V Airport in Casablanca. Our expectations were met, though it certainly could have been worse. There was a fair amount of traffic enroute from the city center, but our taxi driver drove on the shoulder at points to offset the delay. We had to pay for the ride in a combination of Euro and Moroccan dirham.
We had just about everyone working in the airport touch our passport and/or boarding pass at some point. Check-in was relatively easy and we were assured that there were enough seats for us. Terminal 1 appears to be the nicer terminal at the airport, so naturally we were in Terminal 2. We didn’t see any good tchotchkes to buy, though Nicole got a Morocco Starbucks mug. Despite having a credit card machine, the man working at Starbucks informed us that it wasn’t working. We barely had enough cash to make the purchase.
So if any of you readers plan to ever come to Morocco, you need cash. Even if the place you’re buying from assures you that they take credit card, I can just about promise that they will not. I went to a gas station that had all the credit card logos on front and they didn’t take it. Toll plaza with credit card symbol for the lane? Nope, cash only. “La machine ne marche pas!” will be something you hear a lot. If you ran out of cash, it would be a real problem, so it’s best to bring extra. We left the country with 11 dirham, the equivalent of about $1.10, so we just barely made it.
After getting violated at the security checkpoint and making our way to the gate, we were given seat assignments and then waited for a bus to take us to the plane. I don’t understand the usage of buses in foreign countries. We drove by about 12 open and unused jetbridges on our way to the TAP Embraer E190, so the lack of jetways doesn’t seem to be the cause. In any event, we departed and had an uneventful one hour flight to Lisbon, Portugal.
After the fairly seamless flight, things began to unravel. From touchdown to leaving the airport took us TWO HOURS. The border control line on its own makes the Lisbon Airport worthy of a “Why Your Airport Sucks” post over at Flyin’ Brian in the near future. The most disheartening thing about the line is that it didn’t actually get longer behind us. So we could have arrived more than an hour later and gotten through customs at the same time. At the 65 minute mark or so, the line started inexplicably moving rapidly. Like what happened? We didn’t notice any significant changes. Was one person working? Did they take 600 people out of line and detain them? Who knows.
Fortunately, the rental car operation went much smoother. We were given a Fiat 500 cabriolet in case we want to cruise with the top down. I also got an option with a toll pass, so we can fly through toll plazas without looking for wallets (or in the case of Morocco, difficult combinations of coins like 17 dirham.) We initially were planning to take another standby flight up to Porto, but the loads didn’t look great. Furthermore, the cost for the standby listing was surprisingly high for a short domestic flight, and a rental car was cheaper. And in the end, the Lisbon airport may have caused us to miss that flight and we wouldn’t have departed realistically until after 630pm (by which time we had already arrived in Porto in a rental car). In the end, the drive didn’t seem that bad.
Driving around Porto wasn’t too overwhelming either. Traffic was relatively mellow for a large-ish city. We were able to park and check in to the Hotel Sé Catedral, a part of Hilton’s tapestry collection, where Nicole was greeted enthusiastically due to her Hilton Honors Diamond status. We were upgraded to a room with a view. (Aforementioned view can be seen in the photo above).
It seems we are in a fairly central area of Porto near the Luís I Bridge over the Douro River. We took a short walk around the area to see what our neighborhood had to offer before we had an early (for Portugal) dinner at 8pm. We ate at an Italian place around the corner. Traditional Portuguese food entails a lot of seafood (which Nicole isn’t keen on) or a lot of ham (which I’m not keen on). Porto is also known for a sandwich called the Francesinha (composed of 5 types of meat, an egg, sauce, and draped in cheese), which sounds like a good way to blow up a toilet. I do admit, however, that I am intrigued by such an absurd sandwich.
After dinner we explored some more to see if we could walk down to the river’s level. There are stairs, but we ended up walking down some narrow cobblestone streets to get there.
River level was a lot more lively than where we had come from. There was live music, packed restaurants with outdoor seating, and a lot of people out for a stroll. Whether or not any of these establishments are actually of decent quality and service remains to be determined, but the atmosphere was nice. Lots of people were eating at 1030pm, as one does.
We took it all in before deciding to take the stairs on the way back to the hotel. A gentleman came bounding up the stairs behind us, but faded fast after his initially strong effort. He underestimated Bricole’s athleticism and endurance. As we have now been away for about a week, that means laundry time for the Herschadios. We compiled what items we needed washed and informed the hotel concierge so they can sort that out by tomorrow.
This is the first time we are in a hotel for two nights in a row on this trip. While it is a bit pricy sometimes to do a laundry service, it frees up our entire day tomorrow to explore at will as opposed to sitting in front of a washing machine while we are on vacation. That wouldn’t make a very good blog post.
passports & pepto bismol 