Morocco Travel Stories, Page 5


I found the little French girl that told me about a surf beach 15 klicks from here, now I suppose I need to know whether it is north of south, but more important is the bus.

The name she wrote down is


Chris sent me this, but I am not sure?

I am looking for a better beach to live on, as this one is deserted except for hundreds of futball players and vendors. I did see one bikini yesterday. It is cold unless totally out of the wind.


I have two clocks, one on my computer, which says the time is 6:20 AM, and another small made in China plastic alarm clock that says the time is 4:10 AM.

What time is it, and does it matter?

Today is Sunday, November 21, 2004.


Paradise to me is often found and lost, then found and lost again, but I am positive there is the next paradise around the corner or bend in the road. This paradise is not a perfect feeling, it is very imperfect, confused, full of problems and what people would say,

“That’s life.”

I awoke this morning worried and afraid, not for me, but for my parents, they have a computer they purchase a few years ago, probably in so many ways so they could e-mail me and stay in contact with one of their sons. My three younger sisters and one older brother are connected by telephone, and within car driving distance from their home, so the connection is there.

There is nothing good or bad about this situation, there are no huge problems in my life or their life, but I know I am worried about them, I only have one river of information from them and from that river, I can feel they are frustrated, therefore I am frustrated.

Their computer is a machine, and the computer I am on is a machine, but the machine is too complicated to understand and I cannot fix the machine. If my machine breaks I cannot just get under the computer and fix it, and I personally do not believe there is anyone that can fix this machine. If it is broken, it will not be fixed, it will be replaced. Sometime they will replace the hard drive, sometime they will replace the keyboard, and then with enough frustration I may replace the computer.

My parents purchased a very nice computer, full of gadgets and wingamadoodles that could at the time do about anything, it had 70 Gigs of hard drive in a time when the normal machine was 30 Gigs, and so they purchased a machine they thought would last the rest of their lives.


I convince my mother and father to get a account about 8 years ago, and they are still using the account. I would like to thank for providing them with this service to the world Free, although paid for by advertising the service is Free.

Their computer is broken, or dust as my mother says, but they are still able to write me because they have a free account. I am so grateful they have this account and not a Verizon or GTE or some other silly telephone company account, or or any account they would need to pay for, because right now!

The would be even more frustrated, and I would have to call home to see if they were ok because my frustration level would rise to a level where I needed to call them to feel safe.


I think this is the most basic of human needs, to feel safe, free from worry, that life will be ok today and tomorrow.

I have some music that plays in my head from Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones, that says something like,

“Confusion is the devils only friend.”

So, I guess Mick understood what a God is, or sang about a God to the children of the world. Therefore, to me in a round about way, Mick keeps me remembering that my enemy is confusion and my friend is clarity.

When I am frustrated, I am confused, and not clear on what to do, so I guess I would try to say to my parents.

Go to the library and use the computer for free.

Call up Tom at Computer Corner and if he cannot fix it, buy a new one, stop having every Tom, Dick and Harry tell you how to fix or not fix your computer.


I suppose I have absolute faith that everything is ok.

So I will make another cup of this nasty instant coffee, made from some strange tasting water from Essaouira, Morocco. Some name that has four vowels in it and has nothing to do with clarity.

aoui A O U I

The former name of this place, before some genius changed it was Mogador. I have no idea what Mogador means, I have no idea what Essaouira means, but one I can sound out, and the other I am confused. I say this word Essaouira wrong on a consistent basis, and nobody understands me, so to me this place is the,

“Popular Beach about 170 Kilometers west of Marrakech.”

That is clear and easy to explain, but Swari or Eswari or Esswaura is not, the name to me should be spelled Eswauraw.

Nevertheless, I am probably mispronouncing the word, this is what happens when you try to translate an Arabic word into some other language, and you get confusion.


The water is in Essaouira or Marrakech.

Therefore, there are people in Essaouira and in Marrakech.


I had a Taxi driver in Marrakech sing the song to me, and say, you just got off the Marrakech Express from Tangiers to Marrakech.

I read in what is called the Hip Guide to Morocco page for me, sent to me by Chris…

That the Marrakech Express is from Fez or Fes to Marrakech.

I have a feeling the Marrakech Express if from Casablanca to Marrakech. However, the taxi driver wanted to know…!

Tell me who sang the song?

Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young

Then he wanted to know,

Are they from the USA or England?

I do not know, but I am positive a couple for sure are from the USA.

I say,

“I think Nash is from England.”

I do not know, but a good clear answer and this guy will feel safe, and it does not matter anyway, and if it does you have a control problem and should stay at home where you have clean sheet, that you know are washed, and the electricity actually has worked for the last 50 years, before that I am not sure. But for sure, you have water.

Graham Nash is an Englishman, the rest are American.

Thank you to this Encyclopedia of information I am able to carry with me on this computer made by Microsoft, my Oasis in the middle of confusion!

Therefore, I am grateful to Microsoft for giving me answers, and also to Microsoft for creating a machine that makes my parents very frustrated, what would the world be without a few frustrations in the day help us to remember we cannot control the world. So everything in everyday of my life is both the answer and the problem, and that is paradise.

Life is Good!


Geography - fertile land in desert: fertile ground in a desert where the level of underground water rises to or near ground level, where plants grow and travelers can replenish water supplies

2. place or time of relief: a place or period that gives relief from a troubling or chaotic situation.


Yo, I be a traveler.

I need replenished.

I need relief from a troubling or chaotic situation.


People do not want to read, what they cannot understand, and I am sure my father and mother have no idea who Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young are, but I put up some pictures to make the world happy, because in the end, people like pictures.

But for me, I must constantly work through mentally the mass confusion around me and find an Oasis in the middle of the desert where I am surrounded by confusion. So what do you do when you are a traveler and confused?

Stop and rest, for me that is the beach.

Wave upon wave, small white sound, and warm days, basic instincts like bikinis and walking in the sand.

“My house a very very fine house, with two cats in the yard, life used to be so hard, now everything is easy cause of you.”

A mis-quote from Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young

Everything is easy because of you, I am my mother and father son, and that is good.

“Teach your children well.”



I really am very clear; I need another cup of coffee, and a hot shower. The coffee is easy, but the shower in Morocco seems to be a big problem, because they seem to be short on water, or they would not charge me five Dirhams for a shower. However, an Oasis is supposed to have water surrounded by fertile land. I am sure there is water in this place, but I feel a little bad for them and this idea of fertile land.


Many travelers keep a journal, a daily report of their trip, and this is probably good, because I have learnt that if I keep writing to myself, the other self will eventually listen, and stop asking questions.

So step one today.

Coffee and Shower.

Step two

Walk down the beach.

I will wake up the guy down below the manager to get my shower, he does not wake up at 5:30 and go pray, but he probably does feel guilty as desired.


9:54 AM on Saturday, November 20, 2004

I have moved and am now settled into my next Hotel or room, the place is typical cheap country, concrete and light hanging from the center of the 12-14 foot high ceiling with double fold doors. The bed is a double and seems to have clean sheet, no cracks for cockroaches so safe from them, and there is a sink, the walls look like the calcium painted type with enough flaking to know I should not touch or brush them if I want to keep the white off my clothes. The price is perfect at 40 Dirham and 5 for the shower for a net price of 45 Dirham for room and shower, that is about 4.5 U.S. Dollars or maybe 3 Euros, something like that, but in the Medina and in the center of the actions and away from the place I was, which was a lot cleaner and nicer, but nobody there.

Moreover, when I paid, he gave me back 10 Dirham short and then finally I had to go upstairs and get the last 10, but only after, I kept hearing,

Nescafe blah blah blah I could not understand

Nescafe blah blah blah then more French as he discussed with his wife, I had yet to meet here, but as I went up the stairs it was obvious that his wife was giving him a lecture and to me this was silly. He was trying to keep I think and really do not care 10 Dirham because I made coffee or Nescafe in my room.

I really did not even care about the 10 Dirham, but thought I would punish him a little for going or entering my room. Rule number one though with me is if the management enters my room, I leave the Hotel or in this instance a sort of boarding house. So I stayed the night and left.

Hotels do not like you to use electricity and I always turn the light out unless I am testing the management to see if they are willing to enter my room, as a Hotel that will enter your room to shut off a light is not a good Hotel under any condition or situation.

Therefore, the man entering my room was out of bounds and now I am in a cheap and dirtier but probably safer room. This one has a big huge India type lock hasp and bar on it, so I can use my own lock. I feel a lot better and this the reason I chose the Hotel, plus it has some people in it, strangely that is a not easy to find.

Bad part is the one light room has the push and turn bulb and I needed to stand on the table to put my never leave home without this device light / plug adapter into it so I would have electricity.


This little adapter that is a life saver, and I have had it for sale now for about year, and nobody has purchase one, not that I really care, but to me this little device is the absolutely needed electrical device for a traveler an everything else you can buy anywhere in the world, but this one takes special effort. But what do I know? (Sarcasm)


About 5 AM on Saturday 20th of November 2004

I moved this to the top, because Mom always says to say the good things first and the bad things second, although I do not normally think in terms of good and bad, but consider a both good. Therefore, to me good and bad is just normal, and I do not avoid what I do not like.

BUT Essaouira has one of the best market areas I have ever seen, like a great place to film a Raiders of the Lost Ark movie and you can see Indiana Jones running through this market easily knocking over cart, being chased by…. 2 + 2 = 4

I got it, Lucas, George (1944- ) - PRODUCER OF RAIDERS OF LOST ARK

Born 1944 is the perfect hippy age, he is the perfect age to understand Morocco, Jim Hendrix, Bob Marley, and the whole Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young thing with the Marrakech Express trips, drugs, the James Michener the Drifters etc and so forth. I am just some guy picking up the pieces and way to young to really understand, although old enough to have heard some of the noise.

The market here is special, not what they sell, but the layout, and the whole feeling of being inside a clay brink dusty, Middle East market and fort. This is the medina and walled and ancient part, although I suspect the walls have fallen down a few time over the years, and presently they are re-constructed to be good for tourist and such. Adobe brick is what make a TELL in the end or one of them tall mounds like in Arbil Iraq. This is not a Tell and does not resemble that type of situation, the whole area here is flat, with some smaller hills as you enter the city.


I wonder if it the temperature, the altitude, or the relation to Spain, but for sure the Mexicans and the Moroccans are similar. In both the countries you will meet either a person that is extremely honest, or will cheat you, if they speak English then normally they are going to cheat or very rich and do not need to cheat, because they have already done the job. But for sure, both the Moroccan and Mexicans will nab you money for no reason. I am still learning the money, and I have had them say one price and grab coins out of my hand now five times at least. This is not big money, just dimes and quarters, but they now have my attention, and I do not show them any money because the greed is almost exactly the same as Mexico.

Now some would call the poverty, I call it greed, poverty is more difficult to see, and normally real poor people is afraid of a rich person like me, but remember I am always rich in a poor country or where they think they are poor. I am not sure the level of bums here is up there with India or the percentage is about the same. There are fewer people here than in India so the bum numbers are lower, but there are some real bums here.

I saw a man yesterday that had natural dreads; this is maybe the fourth of fifth person in my life where I thought the person had natural dreads. Most people that have the knots or long Bob Marley type twisted hair and such; actually make their hair this way, but teasing, twisting, or making it knotted. However, a person that does not comb there hair and encourages it can have knot balls, like a dog, or maybe what can be on the tail of a horse. But when humans do not cut their hair, do not comb their hair, do not wash their hair, it gets a natural twisted, mangy, knotted, matted look that is considered a dread, and a pure dread by the dread specialist or advocates. Most people with dreads are dirty in my opinion and being clean and having dreads is difficult, I would say it makes totally sense that Bob Marley was here in Essaouira, I have no fond thoughts about Bob Marley and see him as trouble for the world, not as any type of savior.

But back to the natural dreads, this guy has bunched up natural dreads. Therefore, I believe that in the natural state of a human being and animal, the hair of the human normally dreads. Therefore, dreads are the normal hair of the Stone Age man, and I would say this man probably smelled the same.

5:30 am and Morning Prayer has started, this guy is a lot better squall or chant than the guy in Tangiers is, this is very good because I have to listen to it for a few weeks. I like to listen to them sing in the southern Thailand city of Pak Bara, but most of the time the loud speaker and such is not so pretty but more of an alarm clock you could not refuse.


The other people I have met here and there in Morocco from Europe have been about five times more civilized, mentally aware, or culturally clear of why and what they are doing traveling. I know there is a surf culture here also, and who knows what they are up to, but that has its only sub-culture within the backpacker community, but over-all the backpacker types, probably excluding the Rasta wanna-bees have taken a few jumps up on the Cultural Revolution chain.

Bottom line is the other western people are smarter travelers than the ones I have met in Europe, the ones in Europe are just normal Joe Blow that drink and party their way around the place, it does take more courage I suppose to travel through Morocco and this separates the brain waves. The travelers seem similar to South American travelers.


There seem to be about 10 foreigners on the beach yesterday, and I saw ZERO bikinis. The day was very hot and nice, and I was there at three in the afternoon, so even the drunks have no excuse to not visit the beach. I am almost positive the beach he is empty most of the winter months. There is a surfer beach this French girl instructed me about 15 kilometers away from here and I will go explore it soon. I hope I find this girl again, as I lost the stupid little piece of paper she gave me with the name, I am hoping it will surface in my piles of junk in my room. Something like Sida…

I will surf around on the internet today to see what I can find the only place where there is more than one or two backpacker in one place has been in the Internet café. I only saw one hotel, which is where I am moving today that has any numbers of western people. I would say all in all this place is one lonely place, not a great place for people to visit in winter.

I am not a lonely type man, although for sure some people would assume this because I do complain about being lonely, but if I was really a lonely or in need of talk, I would not even venture to be here, I would have staid in Madrid with the party people. But maybe I do like some real authentic travelers so I am in the right place, excluding the confused ones that are probably here for cheap weed.


I was very wrong, I thought that this place would be a great getaway for the Europeans in the winter, it may be on the Christmas vacation, but so far, unless I am missing something they are not coming to what is supposed to be one of the best beaches in Morocco. There are more older people here than there are younger, so more in the ages of 35-55 and less in the 20-30 most of the young ones between 20-25 look like surf or Rasta people.

The popular way to come is in an old van or big semi-camper like vehicle. I am not sure which brand is prevalent, as I am not really able to tell you the names. I have for sure seen the Renault, but who can be sure. I am almost positive the Renault is French and would maybe be good in Morocco because at cultural base this place is French, then Arab, or they copy the French ways, so probably have copied the French cars.

Essaouira Morocco

Sitting in new room.

1:06 PM Friday, November 19, 2004

I have arrived to the small city of Essaouira formerly called Mogador, I have this inkling that the name Essaouira is French for something, but so far, all I can maybe figure out is maybe the word “Swarm.” I will have to refer to my French friends for help on these matters. I like to know the meaning or why they named a city so I can understand their perspective culturally on why the city is here, and how people view the city.

French and more French, I for some reason did not believe I would need to talk French, but I am surrounded by French speaking people and like they say, when in Rome do as the Romans, so I guess I will speak French. Of course, I really do not have much choice as there English is just maybe above zero on the scale. My Spanish can push me through, and hand language, but really, I need to use French. I have a bunch of Language Dictionaries in my computer so I am ready to go!


I am in a house, with a family that lives up above, Samira, Ira, and I forget the Patron, but some older man that I think is French that is the father or boss of the house. My guidebook pages do no even reference this place, so I sort of took the first trustworthy feeling kid that walked up to me here and when he pointed at the beach and said he wanted to show me a Chambre or room, I decided easier to go with the flow. Therefore, I have a room alone for 60 Dirham or about 6 dollars U.S. Not bad considering I have no clue if this is a good price or a bad price, but the Hotel Magellan near the Muniria in Tangers was 40, so I think this will do, and it does have a window, and the cleaning girl is cute, so La Vie Et Belle.

Priority number one it to have my clothes cleaned at a reasonable price, and have them dry in less than a week. Tarifa was crazily prices, and I was not in Tangers long enough to have my clothes cleaned, so I am maybe seven days past normal. In addition, they wanted 20 Euros to buy a T-shirt in Tarifa, which was 18 more than I am going to pay, so I could not buy myself a clean souvenir T-shirt. Tangier was not user friendly either, so washing is my best bet.

Laver is the work to wash I hope in French.

Je voule por laver mes vêtements.

I do not need this!

I pointed at my clothes, pretended to wash or scrub them, the put my thumb, index finger and middle finger and rubbed holding them up in front of me… ? Money? Dirhams?

Dirhams, Excuse Moi, y Pain, Si Vous Plait, Merci

Money, Excuse me, and Bread, Please, Thank you; I think I am ready for the French girls on the beach. I find Frenchie likes Alfa Theory, Type A personality with fast eyes. Moi!

Ever notice how the pretty girls are not covered from head to toe, but the big and ugly one are covered. I am referring to the Burka type clothing, or I will learn what they call it here?

The sun is shining and the birds are chirping, but there is nothing green in sight, this is brown clay and sand country, with the three story French design, like Paris, Ho Chi Minh City, Phom Pehn and any place the French go they leave behind four-story building and bread. The bread is good, I think there is enough land around her to let loose of the flat or tenement concept. The can keep the balcony idea, but lose the fourth or fourth floor, and keep the roof top laundry area. Merci! I am on the third floor with no balcony presently.


I will leave at 23:50 by train tonight for Marrakech, Morocco, this is more of a changes in latitude, do not want to buy a jacket move, than any type of tourist move. It is cold here, at about 35 degrees above the Equator. So if I go Marrakech I am at 31.5 degrees or close, and that is maybe enough to feel a better. I really need to get to about 23.5 or the Tropic of Cancer before I know I will be ok. I do need and attitude adjustment and the beach Is my cure, so when I arrive to Marrakech tomorrow I will instantly get on a bus to Essaouira. It is about 106 mile or 170 kilometer from Marrakech, so I anticipate I will arrive around two in the afternoon.

Tangiers is nice, but not very exciting, I believe during the summer you probably have a city full of crazy European travelers, but right now in November, it is dead. However, it does have a good French taste in my mouth, and I am hoping to take a big bite as I go to the beaches of Essaouira.

The Encyclopedia says Essaouira had about 50 thousand people in 1994 so that means I would guess up to 100,000 now, and hopefully has a small feel about it. Just hope it is not full on, no stop tourism, or as I would say,

“Sold to the tourist trade city.”

Nonetheless, it is warmer, and Frenchie warm. This place is probably a good place to come, learn French cheaply, and fun.


This is the name of the Hotel across from the Muniria in Tanger, Morocco.


I walked around and stood around for one hour on the main street above my Hotel trying to take photos of the Djellebas clothing.

I am still not clear and really do not want to know that much, but more or less find it interesting to learn about customs and clothing.

However, there are many types of long dress like covers for both men and women. Some have hoods and other do not, but then the women may on some occasions have their head in a scarf or another type of Islamic covering. Not often in this area of Tangiers, and I am sure it changes there is an occasional woman with an attached scarf like a belly dancer would have across here face. The normal girl has the long dress like clothing and maybe a scarf. The girl in the internet café has her head wrapped style and normal western type jeans or pants.

The fashion here is so varied that you cannot say that any one type of clothing is typical. There is a real bleeding of cultures where I am located because I am in the center of a commercial area and none of the normal society rule apply harshly where people do business. Societal rules are more for small villages and neighborhoods. I am not able to escape the city norms without taking a taxi away from the center and really cannot be bothered, plus this Tangiers is a border town so would still be questionable as to what is closer to the long-term types of Moroccan culture.

There was a working girl with normal Western clothes standing on the corner, so I slowed down. What happens then if she is a working girl they will say hello. So this one said something in French with was probably hello, but they tried about three languages the other day and I ignored them so I was 90 percent sure they were working girls.

When I encounter a beggar or working girl, I normally forget which language I talk, and just nod my head. I will not reply unless for some reason I am amused, because that is their goal to entrap you in a conversation. It is difficult thought when they are well mannered and speak English to remember and keep my mouth shut.

So this one says hello, I stop, and she wants to know.

Britannia or Espanol

Meaning in Arab way, English or Spanish,

I said,


She proceeds to mumble in Spanish and is very difficult to understand. I stand there with my camera in hand. I am trying to take photos and walking around with a camera in hand is like saying.

“Hey, come and rob me.”

However, it is very early, about 10:00 AM and strangely, these women are working in the morning and at night, they disappear.

Ok, then she finally says,


Meaning girl in Spanish,

I say,

“Cuantes Cuesta?”

How much,

She says,

“No problema.”

Now I am positive at this juncture that she is a working girl, but keep going to make sure I understand, plus a couple of girl I want photos of are starting to come around.

I say,

How much again, she does not answer,

I repeat.

No problem in another language means a huge problem when you go to pay because the price will be out of the world, plus I am curious what the going rate in Tangiers is.

She says, I think,


Or 30 dirham or however you spell the money here.

This is about 3 U.S. dollars at an estimating value of 10 Dirham to the dollar, so maybe this is correct, but I am still not sure.

I then say,

“Habitaciones?” or “Cuarto.”

Normally they ask about room.

So all these three girls say Soent or like So with ent on the end.

I think she is saying 7, and I am laughing that a room for 7 is cheap, but they could also mean setenta or 70. We go through some discussions and I am trying to maneuver into a good position for a quick photo, so I must keep up the conversation. Finally, the fat one comes into view and I change the subject to the Deejeblla. I have no idea how to say this, and ask in Spanish,

“Que tipo de ropa esta ese.?”

I point at the fat girl with my camera in hand.

More or less what type of clothing is she wearing and I raise the camera and


they all go running and warn me,

“No photos.”


As I appear to be the dumb American, very simple ploy and works on the whole world, as the world always assumes Americans are naïve, so we can do that Texas play stupid thing and learn what we want.

I finally figure out that she wants 100 or cent in French for the room, but I say cien, and I do not think they know the word for 100 in Spanish. So for sure the Spanish here is not good.

But I am not sure what she wanted, and I walked away, happy to have this photo, to say the least there is not much leading into temptation on this street.

Oh, yes, she told me 3 ways to say the word

Deejab or Dejebella or Dejeb or whatever type of clothing you call that thing with a hood. Spanish, French and Arabic or Moroccan language I believe she was explaining.

All this to research the type of clothing, now I suppose I could find some very good English speaking person and have them edit, change, put their best foot forward, and totally misrepresent this type of clothing, but to learn, I know I must push and much around.

I decided it was not a good idea to put the photo HERE.

Sorry, it came out dark anyway.

I went into a men’s clothing store and took this so I would not irritate people.

Djellebas from the back with the hood


Djellebas on old man.

Mission Accomplished.


Note this interplay with the girls is dangerous, and should not be repeated. I am very serious about this, and I am very experienced with dealing with different cultures. Do not take photos of these types of girls or in these types of areas. It is just up the hill from my Hotel the Muniria and is on the way to the Internet Café, I have passed it for two day a few times, and have already cased the place for watchers and any type of heavy handed person.

The girl was curious about the USA and was willing to have some fun talking and knew I was pulling her leg, and not serious, but she could have been a big problem…


English is the Language of Travel

As I sit here on a French computer keyboad in Morocco and read some of the news around the world it would be possible for me to believe that the French language is the language of Africa of the travel language of Africa.


I was reading this dodgy article on CNN and of course I do not trust anything it says, but I do have to read some news...

I could not discern who quoted this, I think it was this dingaling reporter from CNN trying to put words in either Chiracs or U.K. Europe Minister Denis MacShane mouth.
(Reprters like this Robin Oakley CNN European Political Editor should be taken out back have their mouths washed out with soap for telling lies.)

There is also rivalry over whether French or English is the dominant language.

Now I can 100 percent say, fortunate for me, English is the language to learn if you travel, then if you had a good understanding of Chinese or how the Asian Languages work, then learn Spanish, the if you wanted for some fun learn French, but not really needed. German is not needed in the least, but as always learn to say hello and thank you in all languages. Bad manners can get you killed, so be careful Chirac and Robin Oakley.

I was told by a Beautiful French woman,
We love to listen to Americans speak French with an American accent.

... I cannot find the quotation marks on this machine.

So learning French and French women is a different issue. I consider France one of them easy to accommodate cultures...

Marrakesh Express Lyrics

Crosby Stills Nash Young - Marrakesh Express Lyrics

Looking at the world

Through the sunset in your eyes

Trying to make the train

Through clear Moroccan skies

Ducks and pigs and chickens call

Animal carpet wall to wall

American ladies five foot tall in blue.

Sweeping cobwebs from the edges of my mind

Had to get away to see what we could find

Hope the days that lie ahead

Bring us back to where they've led

Listen not to what's been said to you

Would you know we're riding

on the Marrakesh Express

Would you know we're riding

on the Marrakesh Express

All on board that train

I've been saving all my money just to take you there

I smell the garden in your hair

Take the train from Casablanca going south

Blowing smoke rings from the corners of my my,my,my,my mouth

Colored cottons hang in air

Charming cobras in the square

Striped Djellebas we can wear at home

Don't you know we're riding on the Marrakesh Express (X2)

They're taking me to Marrakesh Express

Don't you know we're riding on the Marrakesh Express (X2)

They're taking me to Marrakesh

All on board that train (X3)


Ducks and pigs

hmm... Pigs are not real popular in Islamic counties.

hmm... Djellebas is some type of clothing worn by the Moroccan people, but maybe all of the Arab countries. There is a new type of clothing here I have never seen before that has a hood, and is pointed on the top occasionally. I will take some photos. There are some prostitutes down the street surrounded by young men, I can take photos of two subjects at one time. These girls are fully covered for modesty I assume, maybe a contradiction.

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