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Tangier Journal


We first arrived in Tangier by way of a very old over crowded bus. The  dirt roads, rolling hills separating Ceuta from the port of  Tangier. We had come across the Straights of  Gibraltar.
It was a long ride. We had to stop constantly because of bad roads, cows laying out in the noon day’s heat. Not to mention problems with the bus brakes. A 29 mile harrowing adventure.

Our first impression of Tangier consisted of very young boys trying to sell us kif and hashish.

Pension Miami was the first place we stayed. Rhea was not completely potty trained and the balcony came in handy to air out our sleeping gear. 

Later, we rented a very nice apartment at 62 Rue Delacroix with two bedrooms,a balcony, a nice roof top and pull chain latrine.

Our camera and all pictures were confiscated by the Moroccan police.

Here is a link to some great pictures of  Tangier,Morocco

Halloween in Tangier

Halloween at any time is a strange time, but I will never forget October 31st 1971. We had decided we would drop white lighting and go to the disco (Underground). I was going with the girls, and Evans would stay home with his latest love interest. The acid was so pure. The big pits in the ground looked like huge craters, and all the black cats were arching their backs and looked like panthers. We made our way to the club. James Brown was playing on their sound system. The beads I had on broke and looked like they were falling in slow motion. We had a blast.

In the morning light, the smell of the Moroccan Rose and Jasmine filled the air, it had seemed so much heavier the night before. The pure white was wearing off. I went to the bakery and picked out fresh loaves of bread, tearing the insides out and leaving just the shell. Then I brought some to the apartment and Evans made coffee.

I must tell you what happened Halloween Eve. Evans and I had taken Rhea to the store to get her some Moroccan chocolates. We could not afford the snickers that she wanted, which she was not very pleased about.

There he stood! A man looking like Jimmi  Hendrix, flashy clothes, big wads of American money. I looked at him, and he started walking towards me. I whispered to Evans that I thought perhaps we had been dealing with the wrong people. He gave Rhea a snickers and candy to every child in the store.

He came very close to me and invited us to his shop.

I was very interested.

His name was Ahmad.

via pg_3_TJournal.

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One comment on “Tangier Journal

  1. Pingback: Just Faces « Eclectic Avenue =^..^=

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