This was the day of Katherine’s return flight from Marrakech. The two weeks before we leave for her diary. It was a wonderful time together. She gained a number of adventure points but is a lot more comfortable with safe options, though lack of comfort she deals with fine. I suppose this is the effect of being Colombian, although also I have grown up in a dangerous country, but perhaps I am a man. Nonetheless, I have – apart from hustling – experienced only friendly and honest people.

But now it is again all about the serious business of collecting credible adventure points.

The drive up to Fez was largely uneventful and boring. Progress on the N8 painfully slow. I handed over car to Mikou, as well as the handy black money fee. Then I decided to stay in the ville nouvelle, and found the hotel recommended by the guide book. Again, the money you pay is not worth the value you get, but get used to it in Morocco. But it was worth it’s cost as it gave an insight into Morocco’s nightlife in nightclubs. In fact, I seemed to start off in the bar, which was full of drinking men, a couple well past their capacity. A number of women were there too, entertaining men for a dime or two or three. Behind all the religious fervor we all have a need to let our hair down and have fun. Either which way, it is slightly easier for the woman compared to in Europe, they just need to dress up and dance a bit, and they get money pushed into their pants or thrown at them. One thin respectable probably provincial Arab clearly could no longer tell the difference between love and lust.