Casablanca, Morocco: Cosmopolitan Life in Motion

The Drive North: Rabat to Casablanca

The drive from Rabat to Casablanca is short, just over an hour. Somewhere between cities, the car had picked up the unmistakable Moroccan layer of fine brown dust, the kind every car collects after a few weeks on the road. A sign it’s been used properly.

Along this stretch, people stand by the roadside, waving as you pass, offering car washes. I pulled over. While the car was cleaned, I sat at a small cafe facing the road with a Moroccon mint tea, surrounded by locals doing the same thing; sitting, watching, passing time.

The wash took about twenty minutes. When it was done, the car felt reset. Clean again. Ready.

As I drove further in, Casablanca opened out. Wide roads lined with palm trees. Modern blocks and cafes stacked into the city rather than spilling out from a historic core.

It felt cosmopolitan in a way the other cities hadn’t. Less medina-first, more built for movement. Casablanca is one of Morocco’s newer cities, shaped as much by the 20th century as anything older. You feel that immediately. 

Settling In: A Home Base in Casablanca

I checked into my Airbnb on Rue Prince du Jour, tucked into a central residential pocket of Casablanca. The apartment opened into warmth: wood-panelled walls, soft lighting, clean lines with a mid-century feel.

Outside, the neighbourhood felt lived-in with small cafes spilling onto the pavement, corner shops, locals drifting with no sense of rush. After weeks on the road, it suited me perfectly. It felt like somewhere you could settle, and start moving through the city properly rather than skimming its surface.

First Steps in Casablanca

After dropping the bags, Roly and I headed straight back out to get a feel for the neighbourhood. We stopped at Soo Beef for a late bite, casual and unfussy. On the way back, I picked up a bottle of wine from Aperik Casablanca, one of those local wine shops that quietly signals the city’s more cosmopolitan side.

By the time we walked home, the light had softened and the pace of the street had eased. Casablanca felt easy to slip into. It was the kind of first evening that doesn’t try to impress, it just lets you arrive.

Casablanca, From Morning to Midnight

The next day kicked off with coffee at % Arabica Casablanca, right on Boulevard d’Anfa. Bright, modern, sharply designed, the kind of spot that immediately sets the tone for Casablanca. Good coffee, city energy already switched on.

From there, I headed to Arab League Park on a date with Jamie, a guy from Bristol who’d also escaped the British winter and was spending a couple of months travelling through Morocco. The park felt like neutral ground, where conversation can move as freely as you do.

We walked, talked, looped without really noticing the route. Locals passed by in every direction: families, couples, runners, friends meeting mid-path. It’s one of Casablanca’s rare pauses of green in a city that otherwise runs on wide roads and forward motion, and it worked perfectly as a starting point. 

By early afternoon, the Atlantic became the plan. We landed at Bianca Café, set right beside Plage Lalla Meryem, and let the day run on its own terms.

This part of the coast is pure Casablanca. Busy tables, mixed crowds, wine poured freely, conversations stretching long past lunch. The ocean sits right there in view, anchoring the scene while the city carries on around it.

We walked the beach as the light began to shift. Horses and camels moved along the shoreline, riders cutting clean silhouettes against the Atlantic. Families and couples claimed patches of sand, angling for the best view as the sun dropped toward the horizon.

As dusk set in, we peeled back inland. Dinner was at Yoobi Sushi, followed by cocktails at Chez Fred.

It was Casablanca in full flow. Coffee to park. Park to ocean. Ocean to night. Wide streets, palm-lined avenues, constant movement. A city that doesn’t slow down, it just changes gear.

Casablanca, Between the Moments

The rest of my time in Casablanca came from moving through the city, not ticking it off. Window shopping turned into repeat passes along neighbourhood streets lined with independent fashion boutiques, sharp tailoring, European silhouettes, unexpected details that didn’t need explaining.

Daily food markets slipped naturally into the pattern. Crates of fruit stacked high, familiar faces reappearing. Casablanca reveals itself in fragments like that: a mural cutting across a blank wall, a mosque minaret rising between apartment blocks, a pocket park carving green space through concrete.

Meals anchored the days. A long lunch at Vichos Casablanca, tapas designed to stretch an afternoon without trying to. Pastries at Guest Pastry Bakery, locals drifting in and out with purpose. Casablanca eats well, often, and without fuss.

Match Night: Casablanca After Dark

That night, the city flipped into full celebration mode. I caught Morocco’s Africa Cup of Nations semi-final on my laptop. When the final whistle went and Morocco took the win, Casablanca answered instantly.

Cars flooded the roads, horns blaring in waves. Flags appeared from windows, draped over bonnets, pulled from nowhere. The noise carried late into the night, joyous, relentless, impossible to ignore. It echoed the same charged celebrations I’d witnessed previously in Rabat, the city moving as one, pride loud and unapologetic.

Next up is the final. I’ll be watching that one from Marrakech. 

Notes from the Road: Casablanca

First impression: Big, modern, and confident. Palm-lined boulevards, wide roads, constant motion. 

Neighbourhood life: Lived-in streets beat landmarks. Cafes on corners, food markets on repeat, the same faces appearing day after day. That’s where the city clicks.

Style watch: Independent fashion boutiques quietly set the tone, clean tailoring, European silhouettes, nothing trying too hard. Casablanca knows how to dress.

Food rhythm: Long lunches turn into late afternoons. Tapas, sushi, pastries, wine shops you’ll revisit without planning to. Eating here is casual but deliberate.

Coastline energy: Urban beach culture. Lunch slides into sunset, horses and camels crossing the frame like it’s normal.

Overall: Casablanca is modern, functional, and cosmopolitan, a city best experienced by moving without agenda and letting the days stack naturally.

Now, it’s time for the next route.

Next stop: Marrakech