Casablanca - Day 1

I don't think that any amount of planning can fully prepare you for what lies ahead in any travel completely. This whole thing started about 24 hours ago when Maria took both Chase and I to SFO international and I kissed her good bye (miss her already). We got on a direct flight to London Heathrow. When we got there we had a 7 hour lay over. As our internal clock was registering 3AM and it was 11AM for the rest of the brits we figured we might as well make use of the time.

We went to the local Hilton - which is attached to Heathrow and would make an excellent stop over with anyone who had time to kill. We used the spa and proceeded to get in a workout. Half way through a sweaty work out a fire alarm was called and we had to abandon the building and wait half an hour in the parking lot freezing in the shitty English climate. After that we grabbed our luggage in haste and rushed to the check in counter - only to find out that that wasn't our luggage after all. We ran back to the hotel and grabbed the right gear. The ladies in the check in counter thought we were idiots.

We are now in Casablanca. We have a swank little pad called the JM suites which is within walking distance to a few hot spots. We checked out a local bar (only thing open) and were immediately greeted by the locals - who I think felt sorry for a bunch of dimwitted American new-bees. Before long we were drinking beer with the best of them. I don't remember people being this nice since Madrid. If the rest of Morocco is this nice I think we are gonna fit right in. On a side note, I haven't had to resort to selling Chase to the highest bidder just yet.