Brian on the Road

We headed to Rabbat, where my stomach decided it had enough of being on an all-fresh, all-healthy diet and revolted. Can't say I blame it. I did manage to get to the Chellah, an acient fort. Took lots of pictures of people that look completely different from me. It was also an enteratining cab ride with a driver whose French was just as broken as mine. But I made it, and managed to squeeze in some Tour watching at the hotel. It was in French, but Le Tour is Le Tour.

We hit a Tex Mex place for dinner with a group of Moroccans, which in conjunction with the random music I've been hearing everywhere put my irony sensors on overload. We were in a cab with a cabbie who could sing most of 'Hotel California', but didn't understand a word of English. But we had a good singalong. Dinner was around midnight, which just starts to mess with your mind after a while.

After that we rolled to a huge club in the middle of nowhere. Two things stood out: 1) Moroccans at the club were quite concerned with their appearance. Lots of designer jeans and trendy-ish haircuts. Also quite a few guys who seemed to be working on eating disorders. 2) House music is probably popular because it's the same everywhere. I don't really care for it, but there you are. Oh, and I was informed that a lot of the women at this club were prostitutes, as if I didn't have the whole 'doesn't speak my language' thing working against me. So a good game of 'Spot the Hooker' was started. It's tougher than it seems.

Everything in Morocco is cheap except for alcohol. And you can't get bacon anywhere.
Anyway... we headed up to the Mid-Atlas mountains with a friend of Sara's, and stayed at his place for a while. We ate incredibly well, hiked into the plateau-filled desert, shot guns, and went off-roading. I'll post the pics at some point. I'd like to thank Nintendo for my excellent showing with the clay pigeons and shot gun. We got back to Casablanca on Tuesday morning and took off again from there. More to come.