It’s illegal to take Tunisian currency out of the country, so when we arrived in Morocco, we were without dinars and in need of dirhams. Unfortunately, Rich’s ATM card wouldn’t work. He tried multiple machines at the airport and all over Rabat. He received a variety of error messages, leaving him empty handed. Luckily, mine was still up and running, so it was more of an inconvenience than a serious problem – one of the upsides to having a travel companion.
Rabat is all business. It’s well organized, relatively clean, and surprisingly modern. It was a decent place to stay while dealing with our visas. Monday morning rolled around and we were ready to go, bright and early. We arrived at the Mauritanian embassy shortly after 8am, assuming it would open around 9am. When we arrived there was a small line outside.
We met a handful of other travelers, most just passing through to destinations further south. Everyone seemed genuinely concerned about the current security situation due to various travel warnings. We shared in their concern, but decided we’d take our chances and proceed with caution. A little crazy? Perhaps. Only time would tell.
After filling out their lengthy application, littered with unnecessary questions, we each forked over 340 dirhams and two copies of our passports. We were told to return at 2pm to collect our visas; it all seemed too good to be true.
As promised, our visas were ready for pickup later that afternoon. We requested six weeks, but only received four – I guess they were feeling a little stingy. We also learned that our visas started on the issue date, not enter date, meaning a mad dash to the border was imminent.
