Cumin Scented Brains

Tasting sheep brains in the market was the last Moroccan straw for me and after a week long Muslim haul, I finally booked a night train to a city called Tangier in the north where I could catch the ferry to Tarifa, Spain.

I had overheard a guy saying he was going to catch the same night train as me so I asked if I could walk with him and split a cab. From what I understood I had booked a "couchette" which is a sleeping cubicle, however, upon arrival I learned that my first class ticket was in fact in a compartment with six other chairs that recline flat into one gigantic bed because sharing a big bed with Moroccan men is what I really actually wanted to be doing.

I thought I had gotten pretty friggin lucky when I walked in and learned I'd be sharing with a British family of four who had brought a few bottles of wine for the journey that they were keen on sharing. That thought died about 5 minutes after we cracked open the bottle and a Moroccan police man walked in with handcuffs and jangled them in our faces while threatening to arrest us all for public drinking on a Muslim train. We weighed our options and decided Moroccan jail was scarier than the wine was good so we put it away and went to sleep.

After sweating for 2 months straight, I was finally cold...really effing cold on this night train that was airconditioned so heavily that I was huddled with the British mother next to me named Tracie, attempting to stay warm. Finally, 10 hours later we arrived and just 35 minutes on a ferry north, the clocks rolled forward one hour, I bought a bottle of wine for 72 cents and drank it publically while sunbathing topless on the beaches...Hello Spain :)

Side note: I can't get the smell of Marrakesh out of my clothing and I'm now walking around smelling like a strange combination of cumin and spicy armpits.