About three quarters of the way through the flight or so, a stewardess moved this girl into the empty seat in our row, because her TV wasn’t working wherever else she had been sitting. My first impression was that she was a spoiled 17 or 18 year old, who just couldn’t last the rest of the flight with out having a TV to watch. Turns out I was only partly wrong, she still seemed like she was spoiled, but she was actually 22, which she told me, along with random facts about her life, like she’d been to some rehab place in Canada and now didn’t like Canadians (I didn’t ask her what she was in rehab for), how she was a huge klutz and had hit her head on her dresser that morning after which she fell down some stairs giving her a huge bruise on her elbow. After about 5 minutes of her blabbing I tried to give her hints that I didn’t really want to talk to her, but on top of all that she’d already told me about herself, I found out she wasn’t the brightest in the world either. Putting in ear phones and listening to music didn’t even get her to stop talking, so I finally just pretended to be asleep and tried to ignore her after that. She eventually did stop talking after a while, though I’ll have to say I enjoyed the first part of the flight better than after she got there.
The rest of the flight was pretty uneventful, so I wont bore you with minute details of me trying to sleep or entertain myself through watching highlights of the 2011 Rugby world cup, or of the only half edible breakfast that was served about an hour before we landed. I did learn a new way of trying to sleep from the East Indian guy who was sitting across the isle from me, the one who was picking his ear with the little stick earlier. He had his table down and had proceeded to put both his feet on top of it, forcing his body into what looked like a pretty uncomfortable position, but he managed to get to sleep it seemed, so maybe it works. Might have to try it on my next flight if I’m tired and agile enough. But soon enough it was over and I made my way through British customs, made my way down to baggage claim area, where I thankfully found my bag and proceeded to terminal 4 across the airport to recheck my bag and wait for my finally flight to Morocco.
Heathrow turned out to be a bit more exciting than I thought it would be, at least for a little while, when a car somehow caught on fire in the parking lot just outside the building that I was waiting in, so we got to watch that burn for a while, pollute the air with black smoke and destroy the ozone layer a little bit more, but then some fire fighters came and put it out, and Heathrow went back to being boring again.
Finally got to check my bag in and head through security to go find my gate for the flight to Morocco. It was all I could do to not fall asleep, and thankfully they started boarding almost right away, so I was able to get on the plane, stow my bag and fell asleep almost immediately. I slept for most of the flight, except for when they brought the meal, which was pretty good seeing as I was quite hungry, haven’t eaten for almost 8 hours. The flight seemed to go by pretty fast, and we landed at a pretty dark Casablanca airport right on time at 8:10pm. Took me longer than I thought it was going to to get through customs, because I forgot to fill out some kind of entry form that I was supposed to have, so was pushed to the back of the line to get that done, but finally got through and picked up my bag down stairs. It always amazes me that your bag makes it through all the mazes of conveyor belts at airports and somehow makes it on to your flight and comes out on the other side. One more trip to add to my list with never having lost any bags. Lets hope that that list keeps growing. Made it onto the 10pm train out of the airport that runs into town to Casa Voyageur, where I was to meet Stephen at 10:30 if he had made the early train, or 12:15 am if he didn’t make the early train. He not only didn’t make the early train, but the later train was half an hour early, so I ended up sitting there, trying to converse with a couple people of taxi drivers who were all trying their hardest to get me into their taxis, but I finally got across that I was waiting for a friend to arrive, and finally promised Hassan that I would take his taxi if he was still there when my friends arrived. Not going to lie, I was getting kind of anxious I guess when Stephens train wasn’t showing up, but he finally made it and true to his word, Hassan was there to take us into Casablanca to find a place for what remained of the night. First hotel we stopped at turned out to be full, so we gave in and went with Hassan’s suggestion, although slightly more expensive. Right then I just wanted a place to where we could stay for the night. Turned out to be pretty nice, and despite both of us being quite tired we talked until nearly 3:30am before finally going to sleep. It was good times, catching up with each other on what we had both been up to the last year.
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