The basic problem was finding our spot on the train. We had tickets for car 1, cabin 4, beds 44 and 47. The first conductor sent us to the first car on the train, which when we got inside was mobbed with people but no beds.
The second conductor sent us toward the back. We found the first car designated "1," but a) no apparent beds, and b) no 47. There a third conductor directed us to the last car on the train. Which had a cabin 4 containing (short) beds 44 and 47. Success!
One last wrinkle. In all our car hoping, one of the conductors took our tickets. This was fine, until another conductor wanted to see them. We played ignorant tourists for awhile -- not hard -- and eventually the two conductors connected and we were fine.
The sleeping car turned out to be well worth the money (€35). Although a car holds four beds, we were by ourselves in ours allowing the niece, who apparently has a fear of bunks beds, to try both top and bottom. Looking in the rooms in the morning, most seemed half full at best.
Didn't see much of the trip at night -- it was dark, and I'm coming down with something so I was sleeping -- but the scenery approaching Marrakech was striking and seemed to me like "Africa" (for all I know). It was flat and dry, with donkeys pulling carts, and people farming cactus of all things.
Still no sign of the actual city, though. Happily, it's the train's last stop so I'm not too worried I missed it. Maybe if another half hour goes by and we still haven't reached it.
Oh, and the niece's description of the water closet as a "honey bucket on wheels" was fairly apt.
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