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That's how I was feeling about 20 minutes ago. Where was I? Looking for the Casablanca Youth Hostel, and realizing that I had headed the wrong way to get there. As in the OPPOSITE direction of where I wanted to be. Lugging my 50-ish pound suitcase behind me. (Ok, I don't really know how much it weighs, but I'm nervous that it's going to be over my 50-lb limit and I keep re-writing a mental list of what I'll ditch if it's only a little over, b/c if it's too much over I'll have to suck it up and pay some crazy fee of $60 or sthg.)

Streets in Morocco tend not to be clearly marked with a name. It's apparently not a big deal. Here in Casa, from what I've seen so far they are marked a bit better than in other areas, but the map I was using (in the lonely planet) didn't show many of the street names, so that wasn't much help anyway. But then we realized (me and Michael, I picked him up in Rabat - ok, he was at ALIF, too) that we were walking parallel to the train tracks. And the map showed that the tracks should have stopped behind us. NOOO. So there were a few guys around, so he asked for directions. Yup, the other way, then turn right the guys says. Turning right does not seem accurate, but we do believe the 'go back where you were' part.

We headed back and saw a couple of girls, which meant it was my turn to ask. Yep, keep heading straight. The road forked and they had gestured to the left fork, but we weren't sure so we stopped to check the map. Yup, indeed that one would take us to the medina... and the opposite side from where the youth hostel was. Good thing we checked. We crossed the street to the correct fork and kept walking. After a bit we checked the map again, still looked right.

Then, what is that? Could it be? A SIGN, directing us to the hostel?? Amazing! We followed it and saw a cute, clean place. With women working there speaking English, French and Arabic. And being friendly. And it's got wifi. And a big, clean sitting space. And apparently breakfast, even during Ramadan. I bet it's just tea and bread with jam, but I have been dying for tea now every time I get up. Got too used to it with the host family, I guess. My body can't cope without the daily jumpstart of a tablespoon of sugar. I'll break it of that when I get back home.

We may be lucky enough to be able to stay two nights, but it's unclear as apparently the online reservation system seems to let them know each day who is coming, even though you have to reserve online 3 days ahead. Although I will have to ask anyway if they can call me a taxi at 2AM tomorrow because I have to be at the train station at around 4. Ridiculous, I know, but it's either that or take a train that would get me there at 11pm and make me wait ALL NIGHT. And the chance of a little sleep is better than no chance at all. I think.