This photo is indicative of the exhaustion and dehydration we felt after about 26 hours of travelling.
Landed on French soil, and stepped off on the Tarmac, so can say I've really been in Paris now. I enjoyed a black currant macaron with my new friend Ashley, a science teacher from New Mexico. In two more hours, we fly to Rabat. Almost there!
Okay. Spoke too soon. We were Not almost there. Upon trying to fly into Rabat, the pilot decided it was too windy. We flew to Casablanca, waited in Customs lines and got on a bus to Rabat. The best part of the story is that everything happened almost identically to what we were trained about back at our conference in D.C. last month. After getting on the bus, which we thought was taking off immediately to Rabat, an irate man in a Boston Red Sox jacket started yelling in Arabic and then in English that we all needed to get off the bus and convince the driver that we needed to go. He explained that he is Moroccan and that 2-3 minutes means 2-3 hours. We had spent at least an hour on the bus before it finally took off. Luckily we all managed to laugh at the situation. Five hours later than planned, we did make it to a great hotel and flavorful meal. I tried chicken tagine.
These teachers don't look irritated, but this is us standing in line at the Casablanca airport, waiting to go through Customs. It was a long wait!
Chicken Tagine. The tagine means that the dish was cooked in a tagine. These are small clay ovens, and they cook over coals or, more recently, gas, but can be baked in an oven as well. I'm purchasing one from World Market when I return.
Ashley and I enjoying a French macaron at the airport in Paris.
Circling over Rabat. This landing never happened, as described above.