Casablanca is the economic engine of Morocco, a sprawling Atlantic port of more than three million people, and it is the opposite of a postcard town. The name, meaning white house in Spanish, goes back to Portuguese and later Spanish settlers, but the modern city grew mainly under the French in the early twentieth century, when it was laid out with broad boulevards and Art Deco and neo-Moorish buildings, many of which survive in the centre, a little shabby and very handsome.
Everyone goes to the Hassan II Mosque, completed in 1993 on a platform jutting into the ocean, with a minaret about two hundred metres tall, one of the highest in the world. Its roof can slide open, and parts of the floor are glass, so worshippers can look at the sea. Craftsmen from all over Morocco carved the cedar and marble. It is among the few mosques open to non-Muslim visitors on guided tours. The Corniche, a seaside strip, is lined with beach clubs and restaurants.
The famous film was not shot here at all, but a recreation of Rick's Cafe near the old medina trades on the myth. Real Casablanca life is in the markets, the Habous quarter built in the 1930s as a showcase of traditional design, and the busy streets full of small cafes where men sit over coffee. Traffic is wild, with taxis, buses and trams, and riding demands full attention, so avoid rush hours and give trucks room.
From Casablanca the coast road runs north toward Rabat and the toll motorway is fast. South, the road to El Jadida passes salt flats and white-walled towns on the Atlantic shore. Fuel is easy and plentiful. For food, find a grill for fresh fish, or order a tagine of chicken with preserved lemon and olives. Weather is mild, with morning mist and cool breezes in summer. If you come in spring, sit by the water at dusk and watch the city's lights come on.