Now, Mo ain’t the chattiest fella and adamantly refuses to pose up for a pic so we pass the four hours or so to Casablanca without much comment.
With the Moroccan capital Rabat now three hours behind us, we get to Casablanca to find the consulates there have shut down and that we need to go to… Rabat.
As it’s now midday on a Friday there is zero chance of getting back to Rabat before the visa door slams shut. Seems we’re in Casablanca for the weekend.
Thankfully, we're saved from the gin joints by a master of spiritual Gnawa music called Abdenbi el Gadari in town. I met him first six years ago and amazingly he remembered me when we dropped by.
He was good enough to welcome us into his home and play for us. God bless the man. It more than made up for missing the Jajoukas.