A Month in Morocco: And Then I Got High

I made it clear to Mohamed that I wanted to walk to the home-stay destination in the Black Desert and not ride a camel. Three days prior, the short ride from the chateau to the Sahara camp had been excruciating and I wasn’t about to do it again. Having ridden camels on two continents I can say with absolute certainty that my anatomy isn’t suited … Continue reading A Month in Morocco: And Then I Got High

A Month in Morocco: The Sound of Africa

My Sahara guide’s name was Mobarak, but he asked to be called “Black Stars.” He was a kind, hospitable man with a peaceful aura. On our first day at camp, Black Stars passed tous his grandmother’s wisdom, “If you need something, ask. If you are too shy to ask, that’s your problem.” After dinner, Black Stars recommend we leave camp and look at the desert … Continue reading A Month in Morocco: The Sound of Africa

A Month in Morocco: Needing People

I spent my first night in the desert with an international cross section of people: A Swiss couple in their late 70s who had just circumnavigated the globe in a sailboat, three Australian law students on holiday (two men, one woman), one Aussie dropout with baby dreads (man), Lithuanian newlyweds, two dating thirty-somethings from Chile and Mexico who are grad students in Holland, and a … Continue reading A Month in Morocco: Needing People

A Month in Morocco: Waiting for the Bus

The bus station, like most round the world, was situated in a derelict part of town. I arrived before it opened and found the main entry blocked by multiple piles of yellow vomit, one being consumed by a feral tabby. When an employee arrived, she aptly hosed things down then waved me inside. When she confirmed that I was traveling to Marrakech (I wasn’t), we … Continue reading A Month in Morocco: Waiting for the Bus