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Slow and Silly

October 27th, 2009 by · 1 Comment · Africa, Morocco

Chefchaouen’s old medina is painted top to bottom in blue and white and rests on the slopes of the Rif mountains. If you hike thru them you’ll find monkeys in the summit forest and a funny thin leaved plant tucked between the rows of tomatoes and peppers and as a result, the entire city is completely stoned.

Closer to Spain, the language pool increases by one and Darlene has intermixed her french and spanish with remarkable ease, “combien ça coûte for una habitación?” But one ubiquitous word rises above them all, “hashish?” No, non, la, emphatically no.

Not since Cuba have I experienced such vacant service. On the small caribean island, they were just bored and on the dole, paid regardless. In the Rifs, they’re just, plain, stoned. Every menu, salad and tea is a long time in the coming. You can’t change restaurants, it’s everywhere. We even had to tally our own bill, they just couldn’t remember what we ordered or the prices.

And in the evening, passing by the doors of all the pensions and hostals, are the giggles of tourists. But for all those Moms out there, worry not, we’ve seen Midnight Express and prefer to enjoy the long, slow meals for what they are.

One Comment

  • November 13th, 2009 by Jennie

    Fo’ sho’! That was my Chefchauen experience as well. Much offers of hashish, slow everything, but damn the food was good. I probably had the most perfect carrot soup there. Ever.

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