I believe we may have blindly stumbled into a little game that the locals like to play on the unsuspecting.
We rushed to Casablanca on the promise of an early boat – and missed a long promissed visit to Andy in Spain – only to discover that first it was a bank holiday in Morocco, and second that the boat was running several days late. “Come back in a few days when we open again” was the only helpful advice offered.
So we switched our attention to replacing our leaking fuel hose. This turned out to be a very indepth architectural tour of the city’s colonial past, most of it VERY past it’s best. The only ‘real’ and open repair shop we were directed to was a run down hole in the wall affair in a crumbling street. It turned out to specialize in washing machines.
Eventually we were directed to a friend of a friend of the hotel manager. His contact looked after a handfull of parking lots. Enthusiastically he ran off to his various establishments with assorted car keys in hand. Someone’s Mercedes kindly offered up a suitable piece of tubing.
The Panda finally roared back to life without showering the engine with petrol. Success!
