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The Marrakech non-express

we went to Morroco

overcast 25 °C

Polished off Spain with a quick visit to the largest Cathedral in the world, Seville, drank Sangria and headed back into Portugal. Camped once more in our feeble tent, although it is now warm enough to survive in, and ate a huge plate of mixed meat and chips. Returned our car. Now, a word of warning: when we collected the car, we were told specifically that we did not need to report cosmetic dqamage, e.g. bumps and scratches, however, on returning the car they tried to charge us for a scratch that had been there before we set off. You want to know which company, ask me in person. Also charged us for damage where someone had tried to pick our lock, possibly in Andorra (but they don't know we went there). Left for Spain by bus, arrived Algaciras late and slept in Hostal Marrakech, which was run down but ok for a night, run by a slightly strange man.

Morning and we went to buy tickets - touts abound and try to sideline you into their own business, but you CAN buy tickets in the port, down all the way to the new buildings. As it went we sailed from nearby Tarifa, bus ride away. Arrived Tanger and booked bus to Fes (gave away some cash in tips or fees, not sure which) and wandered town until a guide of sorts caught us, told Hywel that the Welsh fuck sheep - his words - and led us into a carpet shop. Drank tea, avoided making a purchase (Hywel bought a turban, on purpose though), and shook off our guide. Late bus to Fes, got off in Meknes, realised, bought new ticket to Fes, Hywel had and excellent Kebab, I had illness. Arrived Fes, negotiated way to hotel, slept soundly.

Its been hard to tell swindlers from the genuinely helpful, but I think we missed out on an actual nice guy, he hangs around near the Kasbah and perhaps you should take his help, if you see him. Took a self guided tour of Fes, including Africa's largest Mosque, souks and tanning district - smells better than advertised. Wandered up a hill and around town, ate Couscous and left for Marrakech. Crazily hot, slow and late, met a girl named Zenab who spoke to Hywel, and arrived very tired. Battled with taxi - Hywel, star haggler, got reduction from 150 DH to 30 DH, arrived hotel, tried some French - successfully - and slept. Now exploring.

My name is Ali Baba. I am known for hanging out with 40 women and having a beard.

Also - Chocitos! Don't let the Spanish laugh at you (face of Winston Churchill, voice of Elvis).

Posted by urchinjoe 06:00 Archived in Morocco Tagged gay_travel

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