Mo Rock Oh!

Neither of us can really remember the though process, but somehow Crazy Al and I ended up in Morocco with a couple of massive hangovers, no sleep and absolutely no plan on what we were going to do other than a vague “ride in the desert on camels”.

And so the alcohol-less and espresso fueled adventure started.

Thanks to our spectacular planning, we arrived in Marrakech just in time for the only day of the year that Muslim cities shut down; the Eid. Which apparently you celebrate by slaughtering sheep in the street, then barbequing their skulls on makeshift fires on the footpath. Kind of like a Christmas tree, I guess.

After spending several days recovering from London, we headed up to Fez, somehow managing to speak for five hours with our friend despite having no common language. After a few days of sleeping next to an early rising mosque, watching poor donkeys laden with the remains of sheep and seeing the amazing souks we headed to the old Roman ruins of Volubilus. There we took in the amazing architecture amongst the early morning sunshine, of course - when in (ancient) Rome, it’s customary to do as the Romans do – so we had a quick bathe in the baths.

From there, it was east, over the atlas mountains for a Christmas lunch of olives, wine and laughing cow cheese with apes and on then to a wild journey on the each of the earth with no musical entertainment in the car other than our completely wrong rendition of the 12 days of Christmas. Through desert downs we traveled, into oasis’s – debating what the plural form of an oasis is. Travel we did, until ending up at the end of the desert, trapped by the Kings seemingly endless motorcade of military vehicles where we started our desert trek * to visit some desert nomads**

After the most disappointingly touristy night with nomads, we headed back to Marrakech and then to the coast. Taking the towns of Raba, Essaouira in before heading to the far southern end of Morocco to the tiny coastal town of Mirleft where we were able to get some sun on the beach.

Now, without car, we took to the local intercity taxis (A Mercedes crammed with at least 7 people – sometimes goats) to make our way back to Marrakech via the tiniest of roads near Jebel Toubkal and then to stay in the most haunted hotel in the most haunted town in Morocco – a town that isn’t really on the map.

Ahh….  Morocco – what a place!

* A 2 hour camel walk on the edge of town
* Apparently nomads in this day and age have concreted toilet blocks with plumbing.