Destination Chefchauoen
May 17th 2005 Monday morning. The bus to Chefchauoen left Tangier at 8am. A short bald man took over the aisle. Standing right next to me, he started his speech. He shouted and gesticulated as if preaching the Khoran. I couldn't understand a word, but prefered to pay careful attention to him. After much blah-blah-blah, he fished out of his suitcase a handful of small plastic bags: he was just trying to sell his
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