Casablanca.

Uhmmm…The legendary Whitehouse. Forget about the magic carpet, wishing lamps, its colorful bazaars, and the sugary soft sand dunes. If you want to have the best breakfast of your life, hop on a plane, fly (Emirates) straight away to this mystical land, and book at the Hyatt Regency.

For only 240 Moroccan dirhams you can have a breakfast buffet of sausages, eggs, cheese, hams, bacon, red meat, white meat, all kinds of bread and jam, fruits platters, fruit juices, hot and cold beverage, the tastiest oatmeal ever, and et cetera et cetera. For the first time, I ate like I have never had breakfast in my entire life. If only I was not having breakfast with the Captain, I could have helped myself with more than two trips to the buffet table. Damn. My mouth is already starting to water by simply reminiscing it. Unlike if you go to Sofitel hotels for breakfast, the breakfast there is too “White” to excite me.

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Queueing at the Immigration counter. Happy to be engaged.

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The Hyatt Regency Casablanca. It may look plain from the outside, but never underestimate a Hyatt.

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They made me feel like a princess even when Aladdin failed to show up with his magic carpet.

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Lovely and feminine bathroom door.

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Casablanca at night.

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Dinner with the Captain and the First Officer.

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My Romanian colleague leaving La Bodega. The black guy in a smart suit was the doorman.

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It was market day! Just across the hotel.

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Inside the market place. It was a bit smelly and dirty but bearable enough for me.

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Potteries, lamps, and paintings of life in the desert. Designer bag knockoffs are also in abundant, if it is what you fancy. It is a little bit more expensive than the made in China but definitely better in quality. And in case you are wondering if I bought any, the answer is no. I do not buy fakes. I never settle for second-rates. =-)

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Heading back home. I could not wait.

Itinerary for next visit: The infamous Moroccan bath. A must-do if you want to experience being washed like a car by another person’s hands. 😀

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