I was in Morocco, part V

I've been back in Munich for a couple days, and it's time to finish my story about Morocco. From Fez we took a taxi to the train station, and then a train all the way back to Casablanca. It doesn't cost much to upgrade from second class on the train to first class, so we enjoyed once again sitting on the upper story of the train. And the air conditioning worked very well, so it was a comfortable ride. It hardly seemed like a 3 1/2 hour journey. Sitting across from us were two young men from England, and we had fun talking to them. Once again in Casablanca, we took a taxi to our hotel. It was a relief to be in a large hotel again, with lights that worked well and a real window, a shower that drained well, carpets that seemed clean. We knew where we wanted to go to dinner that night, we had spotted a restaurant a week earlier that looked nice. I tried (once again) to get roasted chicken, but, once again, they didn't have it. So I ended up with a breaded chicken breast. It wasn't very good, and my tummy didn't need any more trouble than it already had, but it was dinner and it filled me. We went back to our hotel and I had a nice glass of wine while Rob had a can of Casablanca Beer in the bar.
The next morning we got up leisurely, ate some breakfast, wandered, ate lunch, took a taxi to the train station, took the train to the airport. For our final train ride we didn't have enough dirhams to go first class, so we rode in second class. A little dirtier, but the seats were still comfortable. When we arrived at the airport, the first inspection happened at the entrance to the airport, before we even got to the ticket counter. After getting our tickets we had another inspection. They let us bring our bottles of water with us. Amazing. It felt really good to get on the airplane, to know that we were on our way back to Europe. At this point I don't think I'll return to Morocco any time soon. Aside from having a sick stomach almost the whole time we were there, it was difficult to deal with such a complete language barrier, the heat and humidity, the culture, dealing with people begging to be hired for taxi rides, to give us a tour, to eat in their restaurant, to buy their goods...
And so we arrived in Madrid. It was too late at night to get a flight to Munich, so we had booked an airport hotel in Madrid. Except it wasn't at the airport. It was an hour's train ride, into the middle of the city. We negotiated the trains (3 of them) and were exiting the last station when I heard Rob shouting on the stairs behind me. Then he punched a guy! It turns out the guy had his hand in Rob's pocket, trying to steal his wallet! We had been so cautious in Morocco, and nothing had happened, and then we got to Madrid, and this! We couldn't believe it. Checked into our hotel (beautiful room there), and headed out for dinner. It was "only" 10 pm, so we thought it would be no problem. But 10 pm on a Sunday night. Most places were closing. We ended up eating tapas at a cafe counter. It was good, it was fast (it gave Rob heartburn all night), and we went to bed. Woke up at 6:30 am Madrid time, which of course was 4:30 am Morocco time), got a taxi, went to airport, flew home to Munich. Ahhh...it's so good to be here!