Highs...

The next few days passed in a blur of activity as we tried to get started on the long list of things that needed organising. So far the list has remained around the same length because as soon as we cross something off a few more things are added. Plus, the amount of time it takes to get something done here is usually three times what you’d anticipated, so we rarely achieve as much in a day as we’d hoped.

There were several highlights among the daily tasks though.

Firstly, we were overwhelmed by the generosity of the people we’d asked for financial help and the speed with which the emergency house funds arrived. The day after we’d asked for assistance these people came through for us, only adding to the sense of fortuity surrounding everything that has been connected with this project so far.

Secondly, we moved out of the guesthouse and into temporary rental accommodation with a lovely American lady who generously opened her home to us. Having a kitchen to use cut down on the expense of eating out three meals a day and we started to feel a little more settled in the medina.

Thirdly, we went back to our house kitted out in old clothes and armed with bin bags, rubber gloves and cleaning products. Clearing out the rubbish, dust and grime that had accumulated felt like progress and it was good to see the house emerging from under all the garbage. During this afternoon we also met some of the neighbours – a troupe of local boys scampered into the house after us so I decided to let them explore. After they started harassing us for money we had to kick them out however, and they then spent the rest of the afternoon knocking on the door every 30 seconds, despite repeated threats from Vincent. Finally I heard a local lady come out of her house and start berating them in Arabic, so I went outside and stood by her with my arms crossed, looking stern. I don’t know what she said to them, but it worked! I thanked her profusely and introduced myself in my limited Arabic, and she invited me to see inside her home a few doors down. I went but we were unable to communicate any further, so I resolved to start learning Darija (a Moroccan dialect, different from classical Arabic) as soon as possible.

Fourth, we visited the Centre Regionale d’ Investissement to obtain information on opening a business. We found a very helpful guy who gave us all the criteria for opening a restaurant and the forms for registering our business name. After our meeting with him, we walked back out into the street where Vince suddenly stopped and shivered, then grinned. “What’s up?” I asked. “I just got goosebumps!” he said. “It finally feels like this is really happening, we’re really going to open our own restaurant.” It was a good moment.

During the week we were invited to dinner by a super couple, her American and him French, who act as consultants for people restoring houses in the medina. They were a wealth of information on the processes we needed to undertake before getting a permit to start work on the house.

[There are two ways of getting work done in the medina, one you do all the paper work, get proper permissions and pay quite a lot up front to get things done legitimately. Two, you get a simple permission and pay under the table to get things happening quickly. We’re taking the first route because we want to open a restaurant and need to have everything above-board in order to get licenses down the track.]

It seems the first step is to get a topographic survey that shows the house in relation to the surrounding properties and clearly delineates the outline. They will also provide base plans for how the house is now. After that we need to get a structural engineer to check the walls, ceilings, floors and general structure to see what needs fixing. We then tell him what we want to modify and he sees if it can be done without the house falling down. He produces an ‘attestation de stabilite’ which then needs to be adhered to throughout the building process. Then, we get an architect to daw up the plans for the modifications we want to make. Finally we submit all this to the ‘baladiya’ who issues the building permit (hopefully!).

Feeling daunted by all this and wanting to ensure the paperwork is done right, we discussed bringing in the couple to help us through the beginning of the project. They came and saw the house later in the week and gave it the once over. She is a structural engineer herself, but isn’t licensed to practice in Morocco. However we were keen to hear a professional opinion on the structure of the house.

Downstairs started out fine, the cracks in the walls were not disastrous and most of the wooden beams looked ok – except for the kitchen. We may have to check out the plumbing, sewerage and drainage under the courtyard but this was expected. The second floor was also ok, the wall we want to take out to create another balcony could most likely be done. Some of the beams would need replacing and a wonky floor would need pulling up. The third floor was where the serious – read expensive – issues were revealed. This level had been added later, and unlike the lower levels was made of concrete. The weight of this was what had caused the cracks in the walls below. However the main problem was the ceiling, where the plaster was flaking away to reveal rusted metal beams. Apparently this meant that the concrete roof – which is also the terrace – was probably rotten and would need to be completely redone. We hadn’t seen this level when we originally viewed the house, as the family living on this floor was out and had locked the doors. Although even if we had seen the dodgy ceiling beforehand, we would have still bought the place anyway. Further inspection of the roof terrace showed that a section of it had been re-concreted to cover up the problems beneath. The verdict? Overall a great house with some fantastic original features, a stunning view, but an unfortunate roof. It could have been a lot worse.