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Just returned fr0m Morocco today.  I flew in to Paris last night and immediately went to the cheapest expensive hotel I could find to catch up on sleep.  In the morning I had coffee, which is considered breakfast here, and then got in a fight with a homeless guy, or mime, I can’t tell, but I think it was about leaving him staggering space on the side walk.  Then I was off on a whole day long train swapping extravaganza to get to La Trinitie s/Mer.  It’s nice to be back. 

  The trip to Morocco was very easy, and the boat very nice.  The owner and his pros, Gary and Kirstin, were similarly very pleasant.  They have a boat in the Azores and have cruised extensively, including the Arctic and Antarctic(  They should be on their way to the Azores right now, which is about 800 miles or so off the Portuguese coast.

This was my first passage on a luxury yacht, and I have to say is was more like being on a small island condo than what I’m used to, so “pleasant” is a word that keeps popping up when thinking about it. 

Here we are entering Rabat, Morocco. 


And here’s the old town of Rabat.


I would comment more on Morocco, but I was only there for a couple of hours, and doing so would make me sound enormously ignorant.  You know what, that’s never stopped me before!  I’m going for it. 

3…2…1… Morocco is to Europe what Mexico is to the U.S, and Canada.  The only difference in the beans and rice there is the presence of Allah.  Even the airport is familiar with lots of sun burned white people in designer shorts, and racoon eyes from wearing sunglasses without sunscreen.  They even have the essential dead cow/donkey off the highway as you drive to the airport.  I think they watch more satellite TV in Morocco though.  The roofs of apartment complexes bristle with dishes which seem to grow out of them like small plants.  If they represent the number of families in each building, you are looking at some pretty cramped quarters.   

I would have liked to stay longer, but had to get back to reality.  Yes, these observations were limited to a car ride to the airport, which is the worst way to see any place.  When I was a kid I used to read about M.C.Escher’s facination with Moorish 2D design, and later read a lot abot Matisse’s visits to Morocco.  I was only able to catch glimpses of these things from the road.  I have to explore beyond the highway next time. 

Speaking of reality, bye.


P.S. I found the camera, of course.  Everytime I’ve had something stolen it’s popped up in a bag or in my pocket or in my hand…  Of course that means that Myriam’s bike also showed up.  A neighbor “borrowed” it and put it back on the other side of the house.  That’s crime in France for ya.


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