Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, I want to go to this one.

Believe it or not, the real city of Casablanca didn't have a bar named "Rick's Cafe Americain" until a just a few years ago.

That's when a retired American ex-pat from Oregon bought a crumbling building in the Moroccan town where the movie of the same name takes place, and she recreated Rick's cafe. (She lives above the joint, just like Bogie did.)

Of course, there's no Dooley Wilson at the piano, no desperate refugees selling their jewels, no Gestapo thugs hoovering up the caviar...but still, it would be fun to go and have a champagne cocktail at the bar. Here's looking at you, kid.

Photo from the cafe web site