I woke up with a clear mission: change money into Moroccan dirhams and finally witness a team train for the first time since arriving. That team? The Super Falcons of Nigeria, preparing for their quarter-final clash against the Copper Queens of Zambia.
Since the plan was also to finally get proper food, I didn’t bother with cereal. After working on my laptop, I took a shower, got ready, and set out to find cash, because no money meant I just might have to trek to the training ground. (Just kidding.)
Now, back to the issue that keeps humbling me: the language barrier. It took much longer than expected to get clear directions from the Moroccans I asked, because most didn’t speak English, and my French is… well, let’s not talk about it. I walked around for a while, spotting street sellers with fruits and vegetables. And did I mention I’ve been using Google Maps since I got here?
Well, either the map misled me, or na me no sabi read am. Because the place I eventually found to change my currency to dirhams was actually very close to the areas I had visited the day before. And the rate wasn’t even as good as what I got at the airport. Reality check.
Anyway, I booked a ride and finally headed somewhere I could see English-speaking people. And oh, the joy when I saw Joy (Euphoria), I hugged her like I had just been released from language prison. Familiar faces. Fellow Nigerians. A moment that truly felt like home.
After we wrapped up at the spot where we met, it was time to go find proper food. And I wasn’t the only one hungry!
Remember Dr. Victor Ademola, who gave me those helpful city tips in Diary Two? He didn’t come along, but his advice definitely did, and we headed to the place he recommended: Crusty Chicken Bourgogne, located at Mohamed Avenue Tan Tan, Casablanca. (Free publicity, you’re welcome)
The cab driver, Mr. Aziz, was actually cool, reminded me of Khalid from Diary One. He understood a bit of English. It felt like a breakthrough, no matter how small.
When we arrived, wow. They had rice. Actual jollof rice, with chicken and pepper sauce. I breathed a real sigh of relief.
We placed our order and were handed a small circular buzzer that would vibrate when the food was ready. Then Mikolo, who took some fantastic photos for us today, smiled and said, “Technologiya!”
Less than two minutes later, buzz.
We picked up our food and booked another ride, this time to the training ground. I don’t know why it was so far, but on the way there, I finally ate.
My verdict? A 6/10. Respect to them, it wasn’t Nigerian jollof, but it did the job and saved me from another snack-only day.
We arrived at the training ground, took some pictures and videos, and met other Nigerian journalists there. Finally, the players came out. We made the most of our limited access, more photos, more footage, before we had to leave and let the team train.
Next up? Another ride (of course), this time to Morocco Mall (L). The cab driver on this leg of the journey was especially chatty, speaking rapid Arabic and occasionally switching to French, with gestures and laughter filling in the gaps. I barely understood a word, but somehow, we managed a conversation. And OMG, the mall’s size! Bigger than stadiums in some countries. It was beautiful. We toured the place, fed our eyes, and then fed our stomachs with pasta, soft drinks, and ice cream.
Big shoutout to Mr. Edafe Matthew for treating us and making sure we were well-fed. After days of struggling to find a proper meal, today felt like a feast and with English-speaking company too. What a day!
After eating (and sneaking in some work at the mall), I booked one last ride, back to my hotel. I needed to rest after such an eventful day.
I truly enjoyed the food and the company… but hey, one thing remains:
I still haven’t found good bread around here. The search continues.
Tomorrow brings the pre-match press conference for Nigeria vs Zambia, maybe, just maybe, I’ll finally find that bread.
Stick around, Diary Four’s got the next slice of the story.
