Flying Alitalia from Morocco to Rhodes.

Travel Date 6th July 2013

I will continue with the trip reports on Rhodes and Crete after this. Skip this report if you aren't really interested in reading about some of the little things that cause frustration and stress while travelling.

The journey from Casablanca to Rhodes deserves mention. Anyone who has ever flown on a two-leg flight with a short connection time will understand why.

When I planned the trip I wanted to see Iberia, Morocco and the Greek Islands. I prefer rail travel and it made sense to travel by rail and ferry through France, Spain and Morocco but eventually I had no choice. The only sensible way to get from Casablanca to Rhodes in a reasonable time is by air.

After searching the various airlines and routes I eventually discovered that I could make the flight on Alitalia via Rome. Alitalia looked much more attractive as a full service airline than the various budget carriers which also had long connection times via secondary airports. The price was only slightly more than using a no frills airline via Milan

Originally I was going to use Qantas frequent flyer miles. Unfortunately, in the six hours between checking that a seat was available and confirming with Qantas that I could use the FF miles, that seat disappeared. The transfer time of one hour and ten minutes between flights at Rome looked tight, so I attempted to contact Alitalia to discuss that. I did not want to add an overnight stay in Rome, but I was prepared to do that if necessary. Eventually I spoke to a girl in the UK who reassured me that it would be no problem, so I booked the ticket.

It was only when I printed out the booking that I realised I arrived at Terminal 3 at 16:30 and departed from distant Terminal 1 at 17:40, with a 45 minute check-in time limit noted on the ticket. That seemed to be cutting it very fine. Worse, I discovered that I would have to pass through immigration in Rome, not Rhodes, as I was re-entering the EU there from Morocco.

A few weeks later an email arrived informing me that the Rhodes flight would leave Rome ten minutes earlier. This email exchange with the Australian agent (the phone was not answered) shows what happened next. My message:
 

I am having great difficulty contacting Alitalia to discuss the booking at the foot of this message.

Before I purchased the ticket I tried to contact Alitalia. The Italian customer service numbers answered with a recorded message in Italian then disconnected. I eventually discussed the transfer time at Rome of 1 hour and ten minutes using the UK customer service number. The person there reassured me that one hour and ten minutes was adequate.

Based on that reassuring advice I purchased the ticket, which was the standard offer appearing for CMN to RHO on that day. I also pre-paid for non-cancellable hotel rooms in Casablanca before departure and Rhodes on arrival.

Now this advice has arrived by email:
**
Dear Madam, dear Sir,

We would like to inform you that flight AZ 00730 of 06/07 has been rescheduled.
The flight is now expected to leave ROMA FCO at 17:30 and arrive in RHODES RHO at 20:50.
**
That means there is now only one hour to transfer. Today I still could not speak to anyone in Italy. I contacted the USA customer service number and found I was speaking to Jason in Albania who again reassured me that one hour is OK.

I need to know whether I can have an Alitalia staff member meet me on arrival at FCO to assist me to make the departing Rhodes flight on time please? I have not been in that airport before. I will check my bag at Casablanca through to Rhodes, so I presume I will not need to collect it and re-check it. Will I need to clear immigration, or as a transit passenger do I do that on arrival at Rhodes?

There is only one daily flight to Rhodes. If, through no fault of my own, Alitalia timing causes me to miss that flight will they put me in a hotel and send me on the next day's flight for no extra charge?

Please advise. I can be reached by return email or on Australia 02-********.
***

The reply from Alitalia:

***
Dear Customer,
We will be able to provide you needed information through our Customer Center services.
We kindly ask you to contact the number +39 06 65649 to be properly assisted.
Thank you for your understanding
Best Regards
Alitalia Customer Relations

***
The number they told me to ring is the one I had tried unsuccessfully. Gee, thanks a lot, Alitalia. I decided to use Doris Day's method to handle the stress: que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be.

When the day arrived I tried again at Casablanca airport to get assistance. The Alitalia agent decided to change my booking to 'wheelchair' as a way to guarantee assistance at Rome. I declined. I could just imagine how the other passengers would feel if I strode briskly away from the wheelchair once I arrived at the gate lounge.
We departed on time. This was the sequence of slowly increasing panic on arrival in Rome.

• Rome, 16:30, zero minus 60. The flight landed on time but taxied an incredibly long way before stopping a long way from the terminal buildings. I discovered that there were no air-stairs. We all boarded a bus which waited patiently for the last passenger before moving slowly off to Terminal 3.
• Zero minus 45. Arrived at Terminal 3 to find a long queue at the security checkpoint for transferring passengers. Apparently the Italians do not trust the pre-flight security checks at foreign airports and do it again themselves.
• Zero minus 40. Still in the queue which has hardly moved. The man in front of me is also stressed at the delay and waving his onwards boarding pass at the supervisor. I try the same thing. We are both sternly told to wait our turn.
• Zero minus 30. Finally through security. Followed the signs (clear and obvious, thank goodness) towards Terminal 1.
• Zero minus 25. Encounter long queue at immigration. Only two officers on duty, but they are working frantically fast.
• Zero minus 20. Through immigration and onwards to Terminal 1 as fast as my 66yo legs can take me; I feel like I am taking part in an Olympics walking race.
• Zero minus 15. Reach Terminal 1 and discover my gate lounge is the farthest possible from Terminal 3.
• Zero minus 10. Arrive, collapse into a chair – and then wait 20 minutes for a late departure!

On arrival at Rhodes I had that sinking feeling as I waited at the carousel until the arrivals lounge was deserted and my bag had not appeared. A lady then arrived to tell me it was not on the plane. Apparently it went to Athens. After half an hour filling out details on her computer she assured me a taxi would deliver it to my hotel next morning. About midday next day she rang to tell me to come to the airport to pick it up. I asked what happened to the cab? She said if I wanted it delivered it would not arrive until midnight via their delivery van. She was quite annoyed when I told her I still wanted it delivered because the airport was a €22 fare each way or a rather long bus ride from town. I advised the hotel night manager who accepted it while I slept.

The lack of interest in my timing and baggage concerns and the difficulty of phone contact means it may be a long time before I try Alitalia again. However, to be fair, the flights arrived safely and the meal from Casablanca to Rome was the best in-flight meal I have had in economy for quite a while.

Cheers, Alan

Casablanca

Travel Dates 5th-6th July 2013  

I was sad to leave Moulay Idriss. Despite the steps and steep roads, the odd but comfortable guest house/hotel, the dust and the heat it was a pleasant, relaxed two days and probably the closest I came to real life in Morocco away from tourists and guides. I departed Moulay Idriss for the railway station by the same means, Grand Taxi, but at a much cheaper price of 10 dirhams. I was wedged into the front right passenger seat beside the unlucky customer who straddled the poorly padded gap between the two bucket seats. 

The taxi took us about 20km to the main Meknes Grand Taxi Rank, where I negotiated the short extension to Gare Meknes for another 20 dirhams. I realised he had misunderstood when he tried to deposit me at Meknes Al Amir, the minor station, but eventually I persuaded him to take me the main station. 

I had a pleasant lunch at the café near the station and also a pleasant 3 ½ hour journey in air-conditioned 1st class to Casablanca. The route was rural initially, slowly descending from the Atlas foot-hills to the rolling pastures nearer the coast. 

After passing through the urban fringe of Rabat, the capital, we reached Gare Casa Voyageurs, Casablanca, where I walked to the Ibis beside the forecourt of the station. 

 

I asked for a non-smoking room away from the rail lines. Somehow the message didn’t seem to get across the first two times. On the third try I got a room on the city side that did not smell of smoke. It was standard Ibis quality: moderate speed Wi-Fi, compact, clean, comfortable bed and small but adequate en-suite. Both the Ibis hotels I used in Morocco were better quality than the other dars and hotels I stayed in. 
 
The tram ran past the window but did not cause me noise problems and was a very convenient way to get to downtown and the medina. The self-serve ticketing system was easy to understand, with an icon to choose English, and very cheap.

I spent the afternoon wandering around downtown, then along the roads near the docks.

Despite the romantic name and wanting to visit since watching Bogart, Bergman and Rains so many years ago in one of the best movies ever made, I used Casablanca as just a transit stop en-route to the Greek Islands. After Fes and Moulay Idriss it seemed too modern and almost Western. I enjoyed my brief visit but was happy to stay just one night.

Casablanca was an interesting mix of old and new. The medina was far more tourist-oriented than those at Tangier and Fes. Most traders were obviously selling to the tourist market, unlike the other medina markets which catered primarily to the locals. For the first time I saw lots of other tourists. There seemed to be a cosmopolitan mix from Europe, the USA and a few from Asia. 

 

 
The small section of the true Medina I entered beyond the markets was less congested than Fes and more modernised, but for the first time I felt uncomfortable while wandering the alleys. Just a feeling; no-one said anything, but the atmosphere was not really friendly. Maybe they've seen too many tourists and dislike the intrusion, so I obliged and wandered elsewhere. To be honest I found the Fes and Moulay Idriss medinas more interesting.

 

 
The central city was modern and bustling, with the standard trappings of a major modern city: skyscrapers, Western 5* Hotels and traffic.

Early in the afternoon I happened across a small, dark bar where I had a pleasant local beer. Bars are not always easy to find in Islamic cities, apart from those in the 4* hotels with 5* prices. Later, when I caught a Petit Taxi near the docks and asked him to find a bar he spent almost an hour wandering in a seemingly random way before depositing me at one that had closed for renovations. By chance I found the one I had come across earlier around the corner. Serendipity. I am not a big beer drinker but when the mercury goes over 35(98) in a land where air-conditioning has not really caught on, a cold beer can be bliss.

I had a nice tagine in a fast-food café in the up-scale hotel district for dinner, then retired early to the Ibis to write up some notes and re-pack my bags for the flight to Rhodes next morning. 

The journey from the hotel to the airport involved a short walk and a pleasant train ride. I'll report on the slightly more stressful journey from there to Rhodes in the next post.

Cheers, Alan

Volubilis, an Ancient Roman Site in Morocco

 

Travel Date 4th July 2013  

Volubilis is less than 5km from Moulay Idriss but it was already 35C in the shade at 10 am and there is no shade on that road. The man arranging rides at the Grand Taxi rank quoted 150 dirhams (~$20) for a driver to take me to Volubilis, wait a couple of hours and bring me back. I asked the price one way. It was 30 dirhams but he said there is no rank there and I would probably have to walk home. I took the chance.

If you have read any of my earlier blogs you will notice that I like wandering around ancient places. Over the past ten years I have visited many ruins in many lands in Europe, Asia, the Middle East and the Americas. As an Australian, travelling from a land where a stone age civilisation is all that existed before Europeans arrived in 1788, the ruins of past civilisations fascinate me. Thus I make an effort to visit the remnants of those civilisations whenever I get the opportunity.

Entry was a paltry 10 dirhams. Volubilis was almost deserted. Compared to other major Roman ruins it is less well preserved and less spectacular than others such as Jerash, the Roman Forum and Colosseum, or Pompeii. Despite that I am glad I visited.

 

One feature that stands out is the number of floor mosaics which have somehow survived the ravages of time, earthquakes and vandals. This is one example, I will add several more as the closing pictures.

Wiki gives an excellent description and history of the site here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Volubilis

Briefly, Volubilis was originally a Phoenician and Carthaginian settlement from the 3rd century BC. It became a Roman town after the defeat of Carthage in the 2nd century BC and gradually became a rich and important town at the south-western extremity of the Roman Empire, with a population reaching over 20,000 by the 2nd century AD. Olives and trade were the primary sources of wealth. The Romans kept strong forces in the region because of often hostile Berber neighbours to the south and east. 

The decay of the Roman Empire during the civil wars of the 3rd century AD weakened their control of far outposts like Volubilis and it fell to the local tribes. The population slowly decreased, with a resurgence in the 8th century when it became the local capital under Idriss I. He also established Moulay Idris nearby. After his death his son moved the capital to Fes and Volubilis became deserted. 

Sadly, the disrepair of the site is not just from the ravages of time. Several earthquakes assisted, especially in the 18th century, but the worst destruction occurred in the 17th century when the local ruler used the site as a quarry to build Meknes, about 20km away.

French archaeologists started work on the site during the period of French rule. It is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The ruins cover a large area and I spent a lot of my time wandering slowly in the heat around it all. I had planned wisely and brought a litre of water with me. There was probably water available at the restaurant and gift shops down the road from the entry, but there was none available on the site. To give an idea of the scale, this is the main road looking northeast, followed by a closer look at the gate:

 

This is the same road looking southwest and a closer look at that gate:

 

As I failed Latin in my third year of High School I'll leave it for others to translate the inscription, amazingly clear after two millennia:

While wandering around the site it was clear that there had been attempts in the past to turn it into a tourist destination. There is a hotel for tourists about a kilometre away, a café and souvenir shop a hundred meters down the hill from the entrance (too far to check them out in the heat) and what appears to be the disused remains of a sound and light show area near the northern entrance. Note the light poles near the NE entrance gate in the picture above.

I enjoyed the peace and quiet. Apart from myself there were a couple who appeared to be from Sweden, a small party of Americans who appeared to be on a bus tour from Fes who left as I arrived, and a few workers who appeared to spend most of the time sipping tea in the shade. I like being alone in places like this, but I also felt sad that the Moroccan tourism people seem to be missing an opportunity.

Later, when I saw the opposite at Knossos, with long queues, hordes of tourists and Evans' reconstructions, it occurred to me that maybe that missed opportunity was not such a bad thing after all.

I spent over three hours wandering slowly around the site, taking photos or just sitting and musing on life as it was two millennia ago and on the wonderful builders of the Roman era. The murals were marvellous but very dusty. In one spot someone had spilled some water that brought a corner of a mural to life. It was difficult to resist the temptation to do the same myself, but I decided not to risk causing damage. In hindsight, looking at my pictures below, I wish I had. The final one with the partial cleaning is so much more vivid, making me wonder how bright the others would have been, and a little water was unlikely to add to the ravages of time.

I only had to wait twenty minutes for a Grand Taxi to arrive, depositing another visitor. You can't bargain very hard when it is 40C, there is no shade, and there is only one taxi, so the return fare to lunch in Moulay Idriss was 50 dirhams. I was happy to pay it.

Cheers, Alan

Morocco: Moulay Idriss

Travel Dates 3rd-5th July 2013 

The inexpensive 30 dirhams first class ride on the train from Fes to Meknes was pleasant, passing through interesting but unspectacular scenic landscapes and several small villages en-route.

On arrival in Meknes I could only find one grand taxi at the station. He was aware of the bargaining power that gave him and demanded 150 dirhams for the 20km ride to Moulay Idriss. I declined and decided to have lunch at the café near the station.

While eating lunch I saw a clear example of the more relaxed attitude of the Moroccans to displays of affection compared to some other Islamic nations. With the recent change in Qantas transfer hubs from Singapore to Dubai the law against public displays of affection in the United Arab Emirates, including cases where visitors have been jailed for kissing their spouse, were in the news before my trip. In the public square in front of the Meknes station I saw a young girl run up to her boyfriend, meeting him off the train, and give him a steamy kiss that would have done Hollywood proud while they tried to merge fully clothed bodies. Apart from myself nobody gave them a passing glance.

My grand taxi driver was still waiting hopefully at the station. We agreed on 130 dirhams. Not much of a discount, but better than none. I discovered the real purpose for seat belts in his cab. They are to prevent the seats flying through the windscreen when the driver puts the brakes on. Although some grand taxis had rear seat belts, all of the clips had disappeared under the seats.

 

Later the return journey cost 10 dirhams, although I was squashed in with four other passengers plus the driver on that trip. That was when I discovered the grand taxi rank is near the other, minor, Meknes Al Amir station. It would have been cheaper to take a Petit taxi to that station first. Why they wait there, at the minor station the express does not stop at, I have no idea.

I booked at Diyar Timnay through Booking.com. It was more a guest house than a hotel, but it was clean, air-conditioned, with working wi-fi, pleasant enough and very cheap. Once again everything was on a slope. Down forty-odd steps from the street to the accommodation entrance, up twenty-odd steps to reception (if it was attended, up two more flights to the restaurant if not) and up another flight to the room. 

I became pretty fit in Morocco. 

I enjoyed my two days in Moulay Idriss. It was much more relaxed than Fes. Fes is not overcrowded by tourists but in Moulay Idriss, apart from the side trip to Volubilis, I was the only tourist I saw during my stay. There may have been other tourists, but our paths did not cross. When I was not walking up and down stairs or slopes I relaxed over coffee and watched the locals wander by.

 

As a lone outsider I was an object of curiosity wherever I went, but unlike other countries I have visited where tourists stand out, such as Egypt, India and Thailand I was not constantly hassled by children or adults pushing souvenirs and trinkets, demands for baksheesh or by beggars. Only once did a salesman approach after I had already inspected hats he was selling. I didn't mind that because I actually wanted the hat and waiting for him to make the first price offer was the best way to start the bidding. 

Being conscious of watchful eyes I was careful to try not to offend carelessly, such as eating with my left hand or similar gaffes. It is a small, dusty town with a central shops district. All built up and down slopes, of course. 

Possibly I was there in the off season but it may have had more to do with a lack of promotion of the town or nearby Volubilis by the Moroccan tourist authorities. More on that in the next post on Volubilis. There are several restaurants. I had the tastiest and tenderest beef tagine of my trip in one of those for dinner on my first night. 

I strolled, well, more like climbed and descended up and down the old medina a few times. 

It was similar to Fes, but smaller and less densely populated.

 

Part of the medina was out of bounds to non-Islamic visitors, as this section is reputed to be the resting place of Moulay Idriss I, great grand-son of The Prophet Mohammed. He founded the town in the eighth century and also commenced construction of Fes which was later continued by Moulay Idriss II, his son.

No need for translation.

The mosque and surrounds are considered one of the holiest sites in Islam, thus the ban on infidel visitors. The sign and this barrier made it very clear.

The medina had some wonderful old buildings and appeared to be cleaner with less litter or graffiti than Fes. Apart from watching my footing for cobblestones and irregular pavements I also had to watch for the leavings of the medina taxis and listen for 'a-ten-see-on!' from the mule-drivers. I didn't get lost in this smaller medina but spent quite a long time wandering the alleys. 

 

 
I also spent a couple of hours wandering the 'new' town, although most of the buildings were no longer very new.

 

Volubilis in the distance from Moulay Idriss

The third floor restaurant of Diyar Timnay had marvellous views. Before I visited Volubilis on my second morning, I noticed a man on the building next door chipping away with a hammer at the top of the bricks on the wall surrounding his flat roof-top. The first picture was taken the previous evening.

 

Within half an hour he had started to lay bricks on top of that, aided by a child who passed bricks and mortar to him as needed. 

 

By the time I returned in the afternoon he had completed most of a 1.5m (5') height extension to the wall and provided his home with a roofless extra storey. It looked pretty fragile, but it was still up when I left.

The locals were neither friendly nor unfriendly. Although I was obviously noticed they seemed to accept my intrusion on their lives as normal. None approached me to offer hospitality, nor did any appear to object to my presence. The only harsh words I heard were from a man who mistakenly thought I was about to enter the forbidden area, but he was profusely apologetic when he realised I was not.

I mentioned earlier that old mercedes go to Morocco to die after decades more service as Grand Taxis. This is the Grand Taxi rank outside my guest house at sunset.

 

Cheers, Alan