absense makes the heart grow fonder...

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Its been over a week since the last entry here - as many of you know im now back in blighty, but feeling compelled to tie up the loose ends and the "cliff hanger" of excitement I last left on I had better fill in the gaps.

So I left Marrakech on the Saturday night the bus journey was reasonably straight forward, I met some American girls who were doing good things (teaching kids to speak english, looking after refugees etc) but my conciense was clean - I do that kind of thing when not on holiday, ask Mr Marks at Bridgewater High School.

The arrival in Essouria wasnt as straight forwards as I would have wished - For starters Essouria is situated on the South West Atlantic Coast of Morocco - its a cold and windy place especially in the evening which is kind of strange after the 50c in the rest of Morocco. The slightly camp vest and shorts I was wearing werent really appropriate and secondly no where had any rooms avaliable.

I called into the place I wanted to stay which was called "Dar Afram" a cool funky kind of place (a little pricey compared to the £2 a night in all the other places Id been staying) but very nice..unfortunately they had no rooms so it was a matter of walking around with the local drug dealers in tow trying to find a place for the evening. Eventually after exhausting most of the possibilities I found a room but it was staying with some toothless dude and his family (cosy). It was past midnight and I decided if i slept with one eye open it could be ok. (I also had no cash on me so I had to give him my phone as a deposit - none of this felt too good) Beer was back on the menu in Essouira so I decided if I drunk enough i might get a decent nights sleep - the next morning (after struggling to find the house within the medina at 3am and without a torch to guide me anywhere) I realised I was wrong. I moved to Dar Afram which was much more comfy and had less chance of me ending up in the obituaries of the national newspapers (memories of "hostel" etc didnt help this paranoia).

Having bumped into some french amis from Marrakech and having some breakfast with them myself and an American girl "Carnie" went for a walk down the beach to the Hendrix "Castle Made of Sand" type monument. The beach was nice but excessively windy - and I didnt quite feel right - the next 2/3 days I spent in bed with a stomach bug which made previous tummy problems look like a walk in the park!
Yet again my Spanish amigos caught up with me and arrived in Essouira before I left - we had a brief reunion and as ever a impromptued music sess in my hotel (and in a music shop) before I had to leave Essouira and start my journey home.

1530 Wednesday Bus to Marrakech
2100 Overnight train to Tangiers (after watching the frankly appalling maroccan national football team beating an even worse Benin)
1000 Ferry to Tarifa (a lovely place where after now stinking of travel without air con a dutch girl suggested I went for a wash in the sea)
1430 Bus to Sevilla
2100 Flight back to blighty! (small skid on landing)

The journey was quite an achievement - going from 3 days of not being able to hold onto any solid or liquid passing my lips it was a nearve jangling ordeal for myself, my pride and all those around me - social suicide (shitting yourself) on a plane, train, bus or ferry just isnt on, but with a pack of blockers swollowed and a stiff upper lip we all got home with clean pants and ego intact.

Im now back and it has to be said more pleased than ever to be eating food which seems familiar to my belly, looking up dissapointedly at grey rain filled skys, and fearing the start of another monotanus term at school - as a good friend text me as I lay in murky moroccan sheets (feeling even more murky) "theres no place like home!" x

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