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Hassan II Mosque, Casablanca, Morocco: A Persian’s Birthday

As I munched my jaw-locking, uber chewy breakfast baguette in our characterless Casablanca hotel room, I mindlessly watched a steady morning stream of passersby from the balcony. I was thinking real hard. The room service guy looked vaguely familiar. I knew I saw that face recently somewhere…

Before I could recall, the hubby’s voice tugged me off my spaced-out state. “I’m ready to go.”, he announced in his usual apathetic tone. For a birthday celebrant, he didn’t seem eager for a shindig. And I couldn’t blame him. Morocco’s February climate can be a shocker for a tourist who just flew from a sunny country in the Southern Hemisphere, say, Brazil.

Hassan II Mosque, one of the world’s largest mosques.

Hubby put on his hoodie (which he bought the night before after realizing that he lost the jacket we purchased from Mexico) with doubt written on his face. It wasn’t enough to keep him warm. I on the other hand, stuffed the tot’s essentials in a teeny backpack that our daughter got as present from the owners of a guesthouse we stayed at in Lima, Peru.

Within a few minutes, we descended to the lobby. The awesome receptionist who sawed our broken luggage lock (I don’t know how the heck he had a small saw handy, but he saved our day!) handed us a photocopied city map. We mumbled both merci and shukran, unsure which language to use because Moroccans mostly speak French when addressing foreign travelers. The bellman opened the door for us, then it hit me… The bellman and the room service guy is the same person! He just changed uniforms. Man, talk about multitasking.

And its minaret, the tallest in the world.

Our prime destination didn’t seem distant on the map, so hubby and I agreed on walking all the way there. We reached the Old Medina without getting lost, but struggled finding streets that lead to the mosque because most of them are unlabeled or named differently.

We asked fellow pedestrians for directions, and all of them advised us to get a taxi. It’s either we wandered too far off, or simply because they think we’re insane doing a long distance stroll with a toddler in tow – without a baby stroller. Whatever it was, we were finally convinced to flag down a cab.

The celebrant.

A grand taxi (an old Mercedes model turned into a taxi, shared by random passengers plying a common route – works like the Pinoy “FX”) picked us up and drove us to Hassan II Mosque or Le Mosque as locals call it. The ride didn’t take long, which proved us right. The mosque ain’t far at all, we merely got steered off-course.

The nippy Atlantic Ocean breeze greeted us as we got out of the grand taxi. I crossed the street without a care. Entranced. Hassan II Mosque swept me off my feet.

Brilliant Moroccan art.

This grandiose mosque named after former Moroccan king Hassan II is definitely a looker, and one of the only two (at least for me) must-visit places in Casablanca. Thousands of local artisans were hired to work on the mosque, and what’s even more impressive is that some part of it is atop the Atlantic Sea (it actually sits on reclaimed land). An idea inspired by a Qur’an verse which states that Allah’s throne is built on water.

It is dazzling from afar, and more so up close. We didn’t bother asking if we could get in, and just sat somewhere near the entrance where we watched worshippers shuffle to and fro. Luna on the other hand, busied herself mingling with local kids.

Stared at the mosque’s ceilings and arches with ze mouth wide open.

The Muslim-born birthday boy, looked his happiest though he was uhm, freezing. It may have been a simple celebration, but we were in one of our fave regions on Earth.

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Gay Mitra
When not backpacking, she teaches her daughter sight words and belly dancing (even if she's not good at it). She's currently eating her way around some hippie town in Australia. She loves talking about herself in the third person.

36 thoughts on “Hassan II Mosque, Casablanca, Morocco: A Persian’s Birthday

  1. Wow, the place is just awesome, and it’s funny that they have the same bellman and roomservice, kagulat lang sa reaction. Ikaw din?! with amazed look… :p

  2. i love your photos Gay dear!! and of course, i always love reading your post. makes me like to head there now! great writer slash photographer and cool wifey and mum!!you have it all rolled into one – a beautiful travel blogger!you have a fan in me!!!

  3. Like everyone else, I love your pictures too! They’re really serene and I feel peaceful just looking at the tower against the sky. You did an lovely job bringing those to us.

  4. The building facade arch was intricately and uniquely designed. Such a wonderful work of art. :-). The only thing that we could hardly find a place when the streets has no individual signs at each and every corner, even if we have map. That’s also a challenge. But with a brimming heat of the sun, I would no longer chose to explore the place by foot but rather take the taxi….:-). BTW, Ga-ye is here in Malaybalay City. Tama ang vibes ko sa kanya before we finally met each other. Meron siyang good heart. :-).

  5. while reading this post, i dare not imagine luna strolled her way too to your destination or worse, without a stroller, you alternated on carrying her.

    the joys and fatigue of parenthood all for the name of love!

    ps : what a place to celebrate something special, morocco! …i’ll be there tonight, in my dreams, hehehe!

  6. Hello! I love ur blog site! it served as my inspiration in creating my own travel blog. I hope you could visit my blogsite too or even add me on your bloglist. thank u so much and good luck on ur future trips!! – Jan Ashlee, breakawayph.blogspot.com

  7. Belated happy birthday! I just celebrated my birthday also unfortunately I was sick.

    Anyway, beautiful photos!!! Always wanted to go to Morocco. Although can you tell us the name of the characterless hotel so we won’t stay there 😉

    http://www.joeiandme.com
    Join my giveaway! Open to international readers 🙂

  8. Oh wow, Morocco! I’ve always wanted to go to there ever since I saw Almost Famous and Penny Lane declared she wanted to live in Morocco. 🙂

    Thanks for visiting my blog, btw. Following you now! 🙂

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