I am (still) in Morocco, part III

The train trip to Rabat took about an hour. We sat upstairs and could see the countryside as we chugged past. Air conditioning was advertised but not very vigorous. I felt sad seeing all the poverty along the tracks, people living in hovels with tin roofs, tires perched precariously to hold the roofs down. In Rabat (the name of the train station was Rabatville) (I immediately pictured rabbits) we were met by another taxi. He held the name of our hotel on a sign. Before we even got going, we had trouble. The other taxis (the petite taxis) were angry at him. They parked him in, and wouldn't let him out. Shouting and much hand gesturing occurred. Finally, they relented and let him back out. Unfortunately, he made a wrong turn and had to go right back through the same area. Thankfully, the drivers just glared at him but let him through.
When the taxi reached the kasbah where we were staying, a policeman whistled at him and made him pull over. They bickered for awhile, and then our driver was allowed to proceed. There WAS a sign that indicated we were approaching a one way road from the wrong way. Regardless, we went in. The road here was just wide enough for a single vehicle and a pedestrian (if the pedestrian squeezed up against the wall). We could have reached out our windows and touched the whitewashed walls. There were sales stands along both sides of the street selling water, fruit, postcards, etc. When we had driven a couple hundred meters we met a vehicle coming from the other direction, so our driver had to back up to a wider space. Forward again. Met another vehicle. The driver of that one didn't like that we were blocking the way, and I was afraid of another angry encounter. Both drivers got out of their cars and started yelling. Lucky for us, our driver opened the trunk and let us get our luggage out. Someone grabbed my suitcase, and started loping down the road with it. I had to yell at him to stop several times so we could catch up. He brought us to our door, a large blue door in the midst of all the white walls, and Rob handed him a couple dirhams. For the next 2 nights we were staying here. It was a riad. That means that besides having many rooms, there was also a garden area. There were several terraces and vines hanging overhead and clinging to the whitewashed walls. Long sitting areas covered with cushions and pillows lined several walls. We could hear birds, see the ocean (the Atlantic!) and finally relax. While I unwound in our room Rob went out to the gardens and had a cup of mint tea with our host. We spent an afternoon wandering around the Kasbah des Oudaias. We enjoyed the Andalusian garden, strolled through a museum, and ate some cookies at a cafe. We also walked around in the medina twice. We felt totally lost in it the first night, and spent at least an hour searching for food. When we found a restaurant, I was happy to see that there was roasted chicken offered. But...the waiter told us there was no chicken available. So we got brouchettes instead. They were chicken. I know, it didn't make sense to me either. (Brouchettes are like shish kebab.)
When we wandered into the medina again the next day we enjoyed all the different stalls. They were selling silk fabrics, leather sandals, fresh foods (ok, that was stinky because there was a lot of fresh fish), pottery, eggs by the dozen, junky plastic trinkets, etc. The hawkers were not as annoying as we thought they would be. There wasn't a lot of pressure to buy. And I think the only thing we bought was a couple postcards. Next stop: Meknes.