As I stepped out of the plane onto the hot desert steps, I felt the heat as if like a wave going through my body. It felt warm and safe, as if nothing could go wrong with the holiday. I changed my mind as soon as I stepped into baggage reclaim, where we waited for ages.
It seemed like hours before all our bags arrived and I was worrying because I thought that they had gone missing! As we went through customs people were charging about as though they were the only ones who were hot and waiting in a queue, in fact I was boiling up and felt as though I was going to faint if I did not get some water quickly. Luckily, my mum had some in her hand luggage so I quickly took a large gulp out of it and felt better in seconds.
As we all carried on through customs, security men were looking and watching us with a beady eye that made me feel uncertain of arriving in to their country when I had an almost definite feeling that they wanted us out. My dad showed our passports to the man and again, it took a long time because they had to give you a stamp because we were outside Europe and also because they did not have the latest technology to do it faster, like in England.
I thought as though nothing else could go wrong as we stepped out of the airport in to the thick sweltering air, but as it turns out, it did. My dad told my mum and I that we needed to find a taxi so that we could get to the airport and settle in before it got to late. There were taxi’s queued up everywhere and I could not believe my eyes when I first saw it.
There were men all huddled together trying to work out who’s turn it was next to take a tourist in their taxi. It all started out very civilised, discussing who they thought should go out on the next round robin trip. Then some of the men started shouting and my mum started to feel a tad anxious because all we wanted to do was to get in to a taxi and get to the hotel before it got too dark. We did not know where the hell we were and I started to feel slightly weary as well. We were in a foreign country that we had never visited before and nobody around us could speak a word of English and we of course could not speak a word of Arabic either.
One of the men suddenly began to drag my dad with our suitcases to the boot of his taxi. My dad told us to hurry up, so my mum and I began to run through all the men so that we could get to the car. Although the man could not speak any English, he seemed quite pleasant and helped us to put our bags in the boot of his car. The taxi that he was using was a very old Mercedes that had certainly seen better days. It clinked along through the traffic on what I thought was a motorway or maybe was just a very busy dual carriageway.
As we approached the hotel, I could see my mum’s face changing, from an extremely nervous face to a relieved and hopeful face. From the outside the hotel looked out of this world and I could not wait to get inside to have a real look at it and explore it. It was a typical Arab building, the orange colour and the shape of it reminded me so much of being back in Egypt like last year and that is what made me feel more at home.
As we got out of the taxi, a security man who was working on the door of the hotel opened the doors for us and took out our luggage from the boot of the car. He seemed very pleasant and we all felt relieved to be at the hotel finally after the huge ordeal of being at the airport. My dad paid the taxi man the fare for the journey and then went inside to what was an absolutely magnificent hotel, it was like something out of the movies. It was absolutely stunning. My dad then checked us all in and we got settled for what was going to be and extremely exciting and life experiencing week in Morocco.