New photos from the casbah, gracias a Guillermo (Will S.)

Not a lot of photos of this little guy, too bad. Need more! But this one is about perfect -- he's so amazingly calm that this is pretty much how he looks all day long. At night, though, the story changes.

Will arrived and the first order of business was -- fajitas con tortillas hechas a mano. While the first was tasteless, subsequent ones were blissful to eat.

Tortillas were followed by an hour or so jamming on the guitar. You can see the palmerie from my room, as Will is here, seated on the edge of my bed (but my room has since been rearranged with the desk where he is now, in the hopes of being able to write stories each morning on a ream of yellow paper that my friend gave me when she left Morocco.

Il maestro della musica, inondato qui per le date.

Next week I head out there, into the Saghro mountains on my way to Iknioun, trying to see if we can host another bike tour on the path there.

After running through the garden to get to my lookout point, just in time for the sunset, Mohamed u Mahmoud found us seated on the wall next to his house and invited us in to meet his family and have almonds and mint tea.

On the way, we passed this, maybe the oldest casbah we have.


Not sure which is my favorite color -- and not sure either which one gives you the runs.

I'm convinced my host dad is using all of these to make date wine. ( But don't tell that to the police) But I bit one and discovered that the big, dark ones become as strong as whisky less than a week after being plucked -- just walk around the house and you get bowled over by the smell of it -- and they look like a welt that has become puffy with fermented juice, like you'll touch it and it'll pop). Thanks to that, I walked through the palm trees dizzy for half an hour, hating my ignorance.


It's a nice life. Glad to have my friend come!