Daydreams of Casablanca: Why this city?

There is nothing more magical than the moment when the heart decides it must leave, must abandon all that is familiar and embark on a journey into the unknown. Casablanca was not just another city on my list. It was a destination that had obsessed me for years, a place I had dreamt of, a city that, in the sea of all the world's destinations, continually caught my attention. Perhaps because I had always felt that somewhere there, in that sun-soaked African city, there existed an answer to a question I dared not even ask. Perhaps because Casablanca had already become a symbol of something that never was – unattainable, unknown, perfect in its unattainability.

I was always drawn to the idea of escape, of going to a place where I could be someone else, where I could forget who I was before and simply surrender to the moment. Casablanca seemed like the perfect place for that. A city where I could erase the past and create new memories, a city where every step would be a step closer to discovering what I had always been missing. Yes, perhaps I was searching for love, perhaps I was searching for answers, perhaps I was searching for myself. But at that moment, the only thing I knew was that I had to go, that I had to see Casablanca and feel it on my skin.

Imagine a city full of contradictions – modern buildings standing alongside ancient markets, towering skyscrapers rising above ancient streets, and the sounds of everyday life intertwining with the scents of spices coming from every corner. Casablanca is not just a city; it is a feeling, a state of mind, a place where past and present coexist in perfect chaos. And in that chaos, I sought meaning, I sought myself.

I have always believed that cities have a soul, that every city has its own story that it carries through the ages, hidden behind its walls, in its streets, in the eyes of its inhabitants. Casablanca, with its blend of cultures, languages, and history, was the perfect place to discover that soul. I had always felt that the streets of this city were covered with the shadows of past lives, with secrets waiting to be discovered. And I was ready to uncover them.

Maybe Casablanca was appealing because of its mystery, because of its blend of the oriental and the modern, because of the way the past spills into the present. Maybe it was the uncertainty, the unpredictability that came with it, that attracted me. There is nothing more thrilling than traveling to a place where you don't know what to expect, where every corner hides something new, where you can lose yourself and find yourself again. And that is exactly what I was looking for – a place where I could lose myself, a place where I could leave my thoughts, my worries, my past and simply exist in the moment.

As I packed my things, I knew this trip would not be just another in a series. Casablanca already meant more to me than I was willing to admit. It was a destination that already had a place in my heart, a place I needed to see, feel, experience. I wasn't interested in the tourist attractions, I wasn't interested in the fame that the city carries with it. I was interested in what was hidden, what was not written in the guides, what I could discover on my own, in my own way.

As someone who loves to explore alone, this trip was the perfect opportunity to fully surrender to my thoughts, to lose myself in my own steps, to let the city guide me, to take me wherever it wanted. There was no plan, no pre-defined routes or places I had to visit. All I had was a desire to feel Casablanca in my own way, to experience it through the prism of my emotions, my experiences, my dreams.
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And so, as I sat on the plane, watching the clouds stretch out beneath me, I knew this journey would be special. Casablanca already had a place in my heart, even before I set foot on its soil. It was a destination that called to me, that attracted me, that promised me what I had been searching for – peace, answers, perhaps even love. But more than anything, it promised me the chance to lose myself in the moment, to surrender to the unknown and discover what had always been waiting to be uncovered.

And as the plane slowly lowered its nose towards the airport, I felt my heart racing. Casablanca, the city I had dreamt of, the city that had always been somewhere in my mind, was now real, tangible. And as I watched the first rays of Moroccan sun break through the window, I knew I was in the right place, at the right time. I was ready to discover everything Casablanca had to offer, I was ready to discover myself.

There is no greater thrill than arriving in a new city, than the feeling that you are on the brink of something that can change your life. And Casablanca, with all its contradictions, its secrets, its beauties, was the perfect place for that. I was ready to lose myself in its streets, to surrender to its sounds, tastes, smells. I was ready, more than ever, to find what I was looking for. Even though I didn't know what it was, I knew Casablanca was the place where I might find my answer.

And as I stepped off the plane, took a deep breath, feeling the Moroccan air, I felt my heart leap once again. I was here. I was in Casablanca. And I was ready for everything that was to come.

Arrival in Morocco: First impressions of Casablanca

Photo by: Domagoj Skledar/ arhiva (vlastita)

Arriving in Casablanca was not just a physical transition from one place to another; it was a moment when my expectations and reality finally met. This city, which I had dreamt of and waited so long for, now stood before me, and I was ready to absorb every bit of it. The first step on Moroccan soil was like waking from a dream, but the dream was still there, before my eyes. Surrounded by the sounds of an unfamiliar language, the smells of spices, and the warmth of the sun piercing through the clouds, I felt my heart race, my body reacting to the new environment.

Casablanca, in its first encounter, was not just what I had seen in pictures or in movies. It was much more than that. As I walked through the airport, I noticed different expressions on people's faces – some full of anticipation, like mine, while others carried the calm of those already accustomed to this chaos. The airport was like a miniature depiction of everything that awaited me outside – a mix of cultures, people, customs. This diversity, this feeling that the world meets in one place, was an introduction to what I would soon experience.

Stepping outside, I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin. The air was filled with scents I couldn't immediately recognize, but they fascinated me with their exoticism. Palm trees lining the road created a dreamlike scenery, while the tall buildings in the distance reminded of the city's modern side. But there was something else, something not visible at first glance, but something I felt in the air – it was the energy, the pulse that came from the very ground, from every stone, from every person I met.

The first ride through the city was an adventure in itself. The taxi driver, who spoke only basic English, tried to explain everything he saw along the way. Although the words were limited, his enthusiasm was contagious. We drove through busy streets, past buildings bearing traces of colonial past, but also of modern architecture symbolizing the changes the city had undergone over the decades. The markets were full of people, colors, and sounds that blended into perfect chaos. It was clear that this city lived by its rhythm, constantly in motion, and I was part of that rhythm, if only for a moment.

As I watched all this hustle, I felt my heart fill up. I was far from home, but at the same time, I felt like I belonged here. There was an inner peace that came from this chaos, a feeling that things were unfolding as they should, regardless of my plan. In that moment, Casablanca became much more than a destination – it became a place where I could surrender to the moment, where I could be part of something bigger than myself.

During the ride, I noticed children running along the road, elderly people sitting in front of their shops and chatting, women carrying heavy bags from the market. Every moment, every scene was filled with life. There was no room for worry or doubt – the city greeted me with all its flaws and virtues, and I was ready to accept it as it was.

Arriving at the hotel was like returning to reality. Although the hotel was modern and comfortable, it was only a temporary home, a place where I could rest, but not stay. My heart was outside, on the streets of Casablanca, among the people, in the shops, at the markets. Every part of the city was an invitation to explore, every step was a new opportunity to discover something new.

As I prepared to go out, I felt a sense of excitement awaken in me, something I hadn't felt in a long time. I was ready for everything this city had to offer. Casablanca, with its chaos and beauty, was a place where I could find a part of myself, a place where I could feel what I had been searching for so long.

First impressions are always the strongest, and Casablanca did not disappoint. The city was everything I expected, and much more. In every corner, in every smile, in every glance, I saw something that attracted me, something that made me want to keep exploring, not to stop. It was a place that accepted me as I was, a place that understood my need for adventure, for discovery, for living in the moment.

And as I stepped out onto the street, ready for my first exploration, I felt my heart race. I was here, in Casablanca, ready to discover everything this city had to offer. And I knew, at that moment, that this was just the beginning of my journey, the beginning of something that would forever be a part of me.

A journey through streets and markets: Discovering the hidden charms of the city

The streets of Casablanca are like a labyrinth, filled with life, energy, and spirit that cannot be conveyed in words. As I walked through those narrow passages, I felt like I was entering another world, a world that exists beyond the boundaries of time and space. Every street carries a story, every corner has its secret, and I was determined to uncover as many of these hidden charms as possible.

The scent of spices first caught my attention, the wind carrying the aroma of cinnamon, turmeric, and pepper, blending them into a perfect symphony of scents. The markets were full of people, merchants loudly offering their goods, tourists admiring the richness of colors and textures, and locals leisurely going about their daily business. In that vibrant mix, I felt like a part of something bigger, a part of a city that lives and breathes with full lungs.
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Every step brought a new discovery – whether it was an antique shop with handmade crafts, an old mosque that suddenly appeared around the corner, or a small café hidden behind wooden doors, where locals sipped mint tea and told stories passed down through generations. It was enchanting to see how the past and present intertwined in every corner, how old traditions still lived despite modern times.

The markets were a special experience. Walking between the stalls, I felt the richness of Moroccan culture – rugs hand-woven in all imaginable colors, ceramic dishes painted with traditional motifs, gold and silver jewelry that sparkled in the sun. It was easy to get lost in that world, to forget the time and simply enjoy the moment. I often found myself standing in front of a stall, absorbing every detail, admiring the skill and patience it took to create these items.

But it wasn't just that, it was also in the people. Their smiles, their hospitality, their willingness to share a story or give advice, made me feel welcome, as if I were part of that world, even though I was a stranger. Every interaction was an opportunity to learn, to understand a culture so different from my own, yet so similar in its essence – kindness, pride, community.

Walking further, the streets led me to hidden courtyards, small oases of peace in the heart of the city's chaos. There was something special about these places, the silence that filled the space, the greenery that grew in the middle, far from the eyes of passersby. I often stopped there, sat on an old stone or wooden bench, and simply listened to the silence, watching the sun's rays break through the leaves and create a dance of light on the walls.

Casablanca was not just a place; it was a feeling. The feeling that every moment could turn into a memory, that every corner could reveal something new. Although the city was full of life, there were also those hidden moments, those small oases of peace where I could stop, breathe deeply, and feel my spirit connect with the spirit of the city.

These streets, these markets, these people – all of this became part of my experience, part of my memories. In that chaos and beauty, in that perfect disorder, I found a part of myself. And as I moved further, deeper into the heart of Casablanca, I knew that this place would forever follow me, that every scent, every sound, every scene would remain etched in my memory.

Casablanca was more than a destination; it was a journey within a journey, a discovery not only of a new place but also of a new part of myself. The streets were teachers, the markets were lessons, and the people were guides on this unforgettable journey. And every step, every moment, was precious, it was part of the story I was creating, a story of discovering the hidden charms of this magical city.

Film moments: Walking in the footsteps of "Casablanca"

Photo by: Domagoj Skledar/ arhiva (vlastita)

The film magic of Casablanca is not just something that lives on screen; it is a feeling that permeates every corner of the city. Walking through the streets that were once a stage for legendary scenes from the iconic movie, I felt like I was traveling through time, into the very heart of one of the most romantic stories ever told. Casablanca has always carried that cinematic charm, that sense of nostalgia and longing, and I was determined to feel it in every possible way.

My first step into this cinematic world was a visit to Rick's Café. Although the original location from the film was built in Hollywood, this replica in Casablanca revives the spirit of that time. The interior, with dark wooden tables, vintage chandeliers, and the sound of the piano echoing through the space, takes you straight back to the 1940s. As I sat at the table, I could almost hear Humphrey Bogart's voice saying those famous words, feeling like I was part of that film story. Here, the light is soft, golden, and the air is filled with the scent of the old world. Every detail, from the old photographs on the walls to the intricate patterns on the tiles, was carefully designed to create the illusion that you have stepped back in time.

As I explored further, through streets that were once filled with Hollywood illusions, I noticed how Casablanca manages to retain that unique blend of past and present. The buildings, with their colonial facades and oriental details, tell a story on their own. Watching passersby, I imagined how the film's characters once walked here, lost in their thoughts, perhaps dreaming the same dream of love and loss.

At one point, I stopped in front of an old hotel, the same one that appeared in the film. Given the building's age, I felt a sense of reverence for all the secrets its walls had seen over the decades. Every window, every door, told a story of some bygone time, of people who came and went, bringing with them their dreams and hopes.

As I walked further, I felt how Casablanca lives off these moments, off that past that defines it. But at the same time, it is a city that does not remain trapped in its memories. Its residents, with smiles on their faces, continue to live, create new stories, new memories. Although I was a tourist, a stranger, I felt like part of something bigger, part of a city that accepted me with all my dreams and longings.

The feeling of walking through history, through film, was almost surreal. Everything I had seen on screen was now before me, real and tangible. Here, on the streets of Casablanca, past and present meet in perfect harmony. I could almost feel the presence of the characters I loved, their sorrow, their passion, their struggle.

And yet, Casablanca is not just a place of film illusions. It is a city with a soul, a city that lives and breathes, despite all the changes it has undergone. And as I walked its streets, I felt how these moments blended with mine, creating new memories, new stories that I would carry with me.

The cinematic Casablanca is not just a memory; it is alive, real, and present. Walking through these streets, I realized how important it is to live in the moment, to absorb every bit of the world around you, because it is these moments that make life special. And that is what I found in Casablanca – a blend of past and present, reality and illusion, love and loss. And while the film may have ended, Casablanca continues to live, continues to tell its story, a story of which I am now a part.

The cuisine of Casablanca: A love affair with flavors

If there is something that can truly reveal the soul of a city, it is its cuisine. In Casablanca, every meal becomes a love affair with flavors, an opportunity to indulge in a passion that transcends the boundaries of ordinary nourishment. The cuisine here is not just a way of preparing food; it is a cultural ritual, an art passed down through generations that speaks of history, tradition, and a love for life.

My first experience with Moroccan cuisine happened in the heart of Casablanca, in a restaurant that was both luxurious and intimate, with the warm light of lanterns casting soft shadows on walls adorned with intricate tiles. I sat at the table, surrounded by the sounds of quiet conversations and the scents that filled the room, and I felt something awaken in me – a desire to taste everything, to feel every flavor, to connect with this place in a way that goes beyond words.
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The first bite, a lamb tagine, was an explosion of flavors. The combination of spices, meat that melted in the mouth, and the sweetness of dried plums created a harmony that was incredibly rich, yet perfectly balanced. It was not just food, it was a story – a story of Moroccan cuisine, of its ability to take simple ingredients and turn them into something extraordinary.

Couscous was next on my menu, served with vegetables cooked to perfection. Every grain of couscous was like a small pearl, absorbing the flavors of the vegetables and spices, while every bite brought a new surprise, a new layer of taste. It was a simple dish, but in its simplicity, its true beauty was revealed. I was enchanted by how these basic ingredients, which might seem ordinary elsewhere, were here transformed into something almost sacred.

Of course, no Moroccan experience would be complete without mint tea. It was served with such care, poured from a height into small glasses, while tiny bubbles formed on the surface. It was a tea with a taste of freshness, but also with a dose of sweetness that perfectly rounded off every meal. I sat, savoring every sip, watching the people around me – locals who talked and laughed, tourists who explored new dishes with equal enthusiasm – and I realized how much this cuisine is an integral part of the culture and everyday life of Casablanca.

I was fascinated by how every dish combined spices, how every aroma had its place, its meaning. It was not just food; it was music of flavors, a melody that filled not only my stomach but also my soul. Every meal became a small ritual, an opportunity to connect with the city in a way that was personal, intimate, almost spiritual.

The restaurants in Casablanca, whether luxurious or modest, offer experiences that go beyond just food. They offer a story, a story that goes back centuries, a story of spice traders who brought these exotic flavors to Morocco, of families who passed down secret recipes for generations, of a love for every ingredient, every spice. That love for food was palpable, present in every dish I tasted.

As I sat at the table, surrounded by all these wonderful flavors, scents, and sounds, I felt the connection between me and Casablanca deepen. This was not just a meal; it was a lesson about life, about the importance of taking time to enjoy the simple things, about respecting tradition and celebrating beauty in every moment.

Casablanca captivated me with its cuisine, with its ability to blend flavors and create something that is both simple and complex, familiar and exotic. It was an experience I will carry with me for a long time because it reminded me of how important it is to connect with a place through all the senses, how important it is to truly feel the spirit of a city in every bite. And in Casablanca, every bite was a love affair with flavors, something I will forever carry in my heart.

Nights in Casablanca: The scent of spices and the melody of the city

Photo by: Domagoj Skledar/ arhiva (vlastita)

At night, Casablanca becomes a city that lives in the rhythm of its streets, in the rhythm of a heart that beats faster with the arrival of evening. When the sun sets and the sounds of the day quiet down, the city transforms into a magical scene, where every corner shines under the light of street lamps and traditional lanterns. Nights in Casablanca are not just a moment of calm; they are a time when the city's magic spreads through its streets, accompanied by the scent of spices and melodies coming from every alley.

As I walked through the evening streets, I felt the warmth that came not only from the light but also from the energy of the people who bring the city to life. Every step carried a new note, a new scent, a new scene that filled my senses. The markets, bustling with life during the day, become places where the scents of cinnamon, pepper, turmeric, and mint mix at night, creating an aromatic symphony that fills the air. This fragrant cocktail was irresistible, pulling me deeper into the heart of the city.
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Street musicians created melodies that echoed among the walls of old buildings, while traditional Moroccan songs blended with modern rhythms, creating a unique soundscape. Every street corner had its own story, its own rhythm, its own sounds that invited you to dance and laugh. And as I passed by these musicians, I felt my soul sync with the city's rhythm, how every tone connected me with a place that was both foreign and incredibly close.

Casablanca at night is a city that breathes through its music, through its people who celebrate life at every moment. There is no room for silence here; everything is filled with sounds, whether it is the murmur of conversations, the sounds of instruments, or simply the rustling of the wind carrying the scents from the markets. The night brings with it a new dimension, revealing hidden sides of the city that are hidden beneath layers of noise and bustle during the day. Now, under the cover of night, Casablanca becomes a city of dreams, a city where every corner turns into a scene from a movie.

During these night walks, I often stopped at a small café or tea house, where I would sit by the window, watching passersby. The rays of light from the street lamps created a dance of shadows on the walls, while the scents of mint tea and freshly baked cakes filled the air. People came and went, some with smiles, some in quiet conversation, but all were part of the same nocturnal symphony that enveloped the city. I felt how I was getting lost in that atmosphere, how I was becoming part of that rhythm, how Casablanca was becoming not just a place, but a feeling, an experience.

A walk through the medina at night was a special experience. Its narrow streets, bustling with traders and buyers during the day, now turned into quiet passages, lit only by an occasional lantern or the glow of stars. There was something special about that contrast between noise and calm, between light and shadow, between hustle and silence. I felt how the night air filled me with energy, how every breath brought a new wave of life, how Casablanca, in its nights, accepted me and led me through its secrets, step by step.

Nights in Casablanca are like a journey through another world, a world where time stands still, and every moment becomes precious. These are the moments when the city reveals its true face, when it becomes more than a destination, when it becomes a friend, a lover, a companion. In these nights, I felt how Casablanca embraced me as I was, how it opened its doors to me and invited me to enter, to be part of it, even if just for a short while.

And as I walked through those night streets, I felt how my heart filled with love for this city. Every scent, every sound, every scene was a reminder of how beautiful life is, how important it is to feel, to experience, to be present. Casablanca taught me that nights are not just a time for rest; they are a time for dreams, for enjoyment, for connecting with what surrounds us. And in those nights, as spices and melodies mixed in the air, I realized how important it is to simply be, to simply feel, to simply love.

A romantic soul in search: What did Casablanca reveal to me?

Photo by: Domagoj Skledar/ arhiva (vlastita)

Sometimes it seems that we travel with the goal of finding something outside of ourselves, but in reality, the true search always leads inward. For me, Casablanca was much more than an exotic destination, much more than a city filled with history, flavors, and sounds. It was an opportunity to connect with that part of myself that had been searching for answers, meaning, and love for years – a love that is not necessarily tied to another person, but to life itself.

Standing on a terrace above the city, watching the sun slowly descend towards the horizon, I felt how all my fears, insecurities, and longings merged into one moment of silence. Casablanca, with its mix of old and new, with its ability to be both nostalgic and modern at the same time, made me question everything I had known about myself until now. This city, with its chaotic streets and peaceful moments, became a mirror in which I could see my soul more clearly than ever before.

In Casablanca, I realized that the search for love, in which I had lost myself so many times, was actually a search for myself. Love is not always a romantic story with someone else; sometimes it is a deeper understanding and acceptance of oneself, of one's past, dreams, and flaws. Casablanca revealed this to me in a way that was gentle, yet at the same time inevitable.

As I walked through the streets, feeling the scent of spices, listening to the melodies that mingled with the night air, I felt something change within me. Every moment in this city was an opportunity to stop, to reflect on my life and what I truly wanted. And I realized that what I had been searching for all along was right here, within me, waiting to be recognized.

Casablanca gave me the courage to accept all parts of myself – those I love, but also those I had tried to hide. It taught me that love is not always found in grand gestures or dramatic moments, but in the small, everyday things. In the smile of a passerby, in the taste of the first sip of mint tea, in the view of the sea as the sun sets. Love is in every moment, we just need to recognize it.

This city taught me that love is a process, not a destination. That life is made up of moments, and it is important to live each one with a full heart. Casablanca reminded me to stop chasing perfection, the ideal, and to simply be present, to be grateful for everything I have, for everything I am.

Now, as I prepare to leave this city, I feel how Casablanca stays deep in my heart. Not as a place I visited, but as an experience that shaped me, as a journey that took me deeper into myself. Although I am leaving, Casablanca remains with me, in every part of my soul, in every moment of my life.

This search, which brought me to Casablanca, ended in a way I could not have predicted. I found love, but not the one I expected. I found love for myself, for life, for every moment that was given to me. And that is the most valuable discovery I could have received.

Casablanca showed me that life is beautiful in its imperfection, that our dreams are precious, even when we don't achieve them, and that the most important love is the one we feel for ourselves. This city gave me the peace I had been searching for so long, and for that, I will always be grateful. Casablanca has become a part of me, a part of my story, and I will carry it with me forever, wherever I go.

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