Just like the recent Jimi Hendrix album of unreleased songs comes an unpublished blog from the renowned Moroccan adventurer. Let's give up thanks that it was rescued from oblivion and, more importantly, it's the last one.
How many times have you seen a solitary shoe in the gutter or by the side of a major road? If the answer is never, it won't be soon because you will see one. Here's one I made earlier on the road out of Rabat to somewhere.
And I didn't put it there either. Scoff ye not because it is a phenomenon of the modern day. I may start up a website dedicated to this very phenomenon.
And so, it's farewell to Rabat. I will miss the millions of cafes where you can get a real coffee and mix with your fellow man (no women allowed apparently)
I'll miss my taxi driver offering a bite of of his sarnie.
Taxi drivers have been a feature of these blogs and quite rightly. The other day, on the way to work (0745) the driver is singing away in Arabic - something like "Allah is just alright with me..etc" and I'm belting out "Swing low sweet chariot". We arrived far too soon.
I'll miss the best olives in the world, mint tea and awesome bread.
I won't miss being woken up by some git wailing at 0530.
I won't miss the rubbish everywhere but I will miss the ace dustmen who clear it all up from time to time.
And I won't miss the drama of going to buy a bottle of wine.......
It was "Blood on the supermarket steps" today, as I descended into the basement of Carrefour where they sell the demon drink (it is deliberately separated from the main supermarket), I witnessed a sight not even my Glaswegian friends would be familiar with. The "bouncer" in the booze section of Carrefour - and he is a bouncer, he's there all the time and he just stands behind the cashiers and shouts at people occasionally. Oh, and he's also built like a brick shithouse. Said bouncer, I'll call him Ali, was manhandling a chap out of the supermarche and then punched him, slammed him against the wall and threw him down on the steps. There was blood spattered all over the steps and Ali was about to pound the other guy into oblivion. A very brave chap stepped in and prevented further damage. It's not like a trip to Sainsburys.
It rained as I left Rabat, quite a lot. Was Rabat crying at my departure...?
How many times have you seen a solitary shoe in the gutter or by the side of a major road? If the answer is never, it won't be soon because you will see one. Here's one I made earlier on the road out of Rabat to somewhere.
And so, it's farewell to Rabat. I will miss the millions of cafes where you can get a real coffee and mix with your fellow man (no women allowed apparently)
I'll miss my taxi driver offering a bite of of his sarnie.
Taxi drivers have been a feature of these blogs and quite rightly. The other day, on the way to work (0745) the driver is singing away in Arabic - something like "Allah is just alright with me..etc" and I'm belting out "Swing low sweet chariot". We arrived far too soon.
I'll miss the best olives in the world, mint tea and awesome bread.
I won't miss being woken up by some git wailing at 0530.
I won't miss the rubbish everywhere but I will miss the ace dustmen who clear it all up from time to time.
And I won't miss the drama of going to buy a bottle of wine.......
It was "Blood on the supermarket steps" today, as I descended into the basement of Carrefour where they sell the demon drink (it is deliberately separated from the main supermarket), I witnessed a sight not even my Glaswegian friends would be familiar with. The "bouncer" in the booze section of Carrefour - and he is a bouncer, he's there all the time and he just stands behind the cashiers and shouts at people occasionally. Oh, and he's also built like a brick shithouse. Said bouncer, I'll call him Ali, was manhandling a chap out of the supermarche and then punched him, slammed him against the wall and threw him down on the steps. There was blood spattered all over the steps and Ali was about to pound the other guy into oblivion. A very brave chap stepped in and prevented further damage. It's not like a trip to Sainsburys.
It rained as I left Rabat, quite a lot. Was Rabat crying at my departure...?
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