One more stop in Africa before getting to Brazil

On Monday, 22nd of August, at the midday I arrived in Morocco. I felt the heat of the African air at the same moment when I left the plane.

The flight was quite… weird? Hard to define it in one word, but it wasn’t my best experience. I flew with Royal Air Maroc airlines. Flight attendants didn’t speak English and that was the worst thing for me, because mainly they spoke French and Arabic, so I had little problem with communication.

Flying over Morocco

Another thing is that there was sitting only one man next to me and before we even departed, he had got a fizzy drink, even though no one else was offered that in that moment. I wanted to ask him how is it, that he got it as the only one person on the board – but I think that the flight attendant saw my face and offered me that as well and I have to admit, it worked, coz I didn’t ask about it anymore haha. Later, the same guy was offered two meals, instead of one (the flight took only 1,5 hour) and again they asked if I would like it as well (tho this time I refused). Maybe that man was kind of Moroccan celebrity or just a friend of flight attendand ? Interesting.

When I got my luggage I went to look for Acommodation Desk – the place where you can get a free hotel acommodation if your stopover is more than 8 hours (I think it was 8 but in some airlines it’s for example 10). It’s good to check it earlier if this option is available for you – many airlines offer that on larger distances and not all the people know about it.

view from the hotel

On my way to Acommodation Desk I met one guy who was flying with me from Madrid as well. We started to talk and it turned out he was Brazilian and was flying to Brazil, to visit his family after 2 years (!!!) of not seeing each other. I honestly can’t imagine this feeling, of not seeing your relatives for so long. 6 months, one year – yeah, but 2 years is already such a long time. He actually wanted to surprise his mother and didn’t tell her he’s coming, but in the end he decided to call her and tell her about it – he didn’t want to give her a heart attack haha :)

This way we spent all the day together. We both got acommodation at the same hotel close to the airport (plus 2 free meals). We wanted to visit Casablanca after the lunch… but unfortunately we couldn’t manage it.

To get to the city we had to take the shuttle bus back to the airport, and then take the train. So we got at the airport at 3.20 pm. We had to pass through security control, and then we were asked what are we doing here – if we aren’t here to take the flight. We answered we want to take the train to the city, so one of security guard walked us together with another group of tourists to the railway station.

In front of stairways to the railway station, there was a display screen which showed that the next train was coming in 40 minutes and we found out that the trains are only every hour. We wanted to be back to the hotel around 6 pm, as we wanted to take the shower before the next flight, pack again all our things and have a dinner (we were supposed to leave the hotel at 8 pm). So we started wondering if it made any sense to go there, if we had enough time and if the train on the way back to the airport also are only every hour (tho it was quite logical but we wanted to make sure). Suddenly, the guard started yelling at us in French and Arabic, why we weren’t going downstairs? We tried to describe what was our problem, but he didn’t understand anything and was still yelling. He asked if we speak Spanish – so I was happy and I was sure that finally we would be able to communicate… I was so wrong! His Spanish was just French mixed with Spanish accent, I couldn’t understand him at all. He said that he doesn’t know where I am from Spain, but he can’t understand my accent… funny. I explained him I am actually from Poland, but people from all around Latin America and Spain never have problem with understanding me… Finally he saw his colleague who spoke English and called him to come to us. He was on the contrary very kind, and explained us that we didn’t have enough time to go to the city if we wanted to be back in the hotel by 6 pm – we would have maximum 10 minutes in the city, so it didn’t make sense.

I almost don’t remember the flight to Sao Paulo. I was sleeping most of the time, but I can say that bathrooms were bit dirty and the food wasn’t tasty either.

flying over Brazil

When I got to Sao Paulo, I had to wait another 6 hours to take flight to Porto Alegre. I was tired and feeling cold – believe me or not, but in the morning it wasn’t really warm there (even inside the building). In Porto Alegre I had another stopover, another 3 hours waiting, but at least there was quite warm and sunny. When I arrived in Foz do Iguacu, it was already 6.30 pm… after 4 flights in row, I finally got there. I was pretty exhausted, starving, but also feeling the happiest person in the world when I saw him, waiting for me in the airport… after so much time.