My most stressful night of travelling

1 night in Er Rachidia

Er Rachidia is mainly a military base, with good bus connections to other main cities of Morocco, including the desert. I spent 1 night there, to make a choice of whether to continue towards the Sahara desert or to Fez for my boutique hotel room.

The moment I alighted the tourist bus, Kamal (more about Kamal later) received me. Kamal informed me that accommodation in Er Rachidia was about Dh130 (ca. EUR13) a night. However upon stepping into the hotel, the price per room was raised to Dh390, as he thought there were 3 people, and each bed would cost Dh130. I was pissed, and I demanded a cheaper room, to which he brought me to another hotel, and charged me Dh20 for something that looked pretty much like a prison cell with a broken bed. Again I told him off and asked for a better quality room. I managed to get a half-decent room (details and picture to follow) for Dh120 that night on the third attempt.

These are the other experiences that made things worse:

• Being offered a desert tour package which was more expensive than the one I paid for in Marrakesh, when I was only 80km away from the dunes (the dunes are more than 200km away from Marrakesh), to which I aggressively declined (I told Kamal toF*** off).


• No one could give clear information on directions to the desert from Er Rachidia, about whether the flood had subsided clearing the road to the desert, or a weather forecast. Well, no one really spoke English.

Mostapha trying to help with directions/weather advice

My means of communicating with Mostapha

• Owner of the internet café wanted to rip me off an additional EUR0.1 in front of his very young daughter/niece, who was grinning at his dishonesty.


• Sleeping in a room with a broken door handle on the inside and a window facing the toilet.

fancy?

The morning after - a different Kamal
I survived the night in that hotel room, to my relief (I do remember calling my ex at night informing her of my situation), and made my way to the bus station, with my dreams of reaching the Sahara shattered, towards Fez.
I saw Kamal at the bus station, and told him my plan. I had some time to kill before my bus arrived, and so I sat down with Kamal for a pot of Moroccan tea. Kamal was a totally different person from the night before. No more pushy and sly sales tactics. Just talking about family, his business, the djellaba, and life in Er Rachidia. It was filled with sincerity and laughter.

I guess the lesson here was - People have more fun when money is not involved.