Tangier Memories Justified


Bellowing_Clouds_Tangier

Bellowing Clouds ~an azure blue sky above Tangier

A few weeks ago I started having my usual dreams of Tangier and realized it was after all the month of July. We had arrived in Tangier mid July 1971 having flown from Dulles to London and then backpacked through , France and Spain. It was a journey of a lifetime. Not many can say they have experienced such a trip. I mention TRIP because it was just that A Major Trip!

So I started doing Google searches and put in Achmed, Tangier and this pops up.

First I notice a book calledSiren’s feast~A Edible Odyssey by Nancy Mehagian and the excerpt made my eyes bulge Smile

“No matter what I did in Tangier, at some point each day, I would return to Achmed’s like a homing pigeon. The meals served were sumptuous and Achmed …”

I researched further and ended up purchasing the book. It is an amazing story and validated that I had not in any way exaggerated or embellished my story. She had met the one and the same “Hole in the Head, Ahmad.

The same Ahmad that partied with the Rolling Stones and supplied the hash he was so well-known for.

The book also has the best of the best recipes. The food in Morocco is extraordinaire.

I then purchased Keith Richards book “Life” and he mentions the parties with Ahmad in his shop in the Medina. He said “We enjoyed being transported,  ‘You could be Sinbad the Sailor, One Thousand and One Nights. We loved it.’

Now, I am on another search. Ahmad was on the cover of the Rolling Stones magazine with a group of models. (Circa Vintage 1969-1970) I found it years ago in the DC Archives but did not get a copy. Now, it seems lost too me and I will continue with my search. It was not imagined. I seen it twice. In his shop and in the archives when we returned to the States.

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection”

Anais Nin

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Busted in Tangier


Kif Pipe

Busted
Everything seemed so cool. We were so high, plenty of kif in the apartment, pipes, bongs, hookahs, pot on the roof, where no man could go. Only women were allowed to hang clothes after the wash. No problems. The guys bid their fond farewells. How exciting!
Well, they were back pretty darn quick. On the way to the port, the tires blew, seems we overdid the stuffing. They came in, put on there disguise and told us to start flushing. Luckily we had a toilet with a chain flush.
After that we put the rest of the paraphernalia on the roof and sit back and waited.

BANG,BANG.

The front door was shaking, I opened it and four Moroccan police were forcing their way in.
They tore everything up. After finding nothing they took Evans and our passport.
I really didn’t think it was serious, and told him I would meet him at BaBa’s.
He never showed up.
The girls and I went back to the apartment. The next morning they watched Rhea, and I did what I had to do.
I was afraid to tell the American Embassy, so I turned to Ahmad. He took me to a Bain  (Turkish Bath) and had me bathed, then we smoked.
I was so confused and I did not know what to do.

He said “Thanks to the Gods”, he would put Rhea in school and I would be his fifth wife.

Reeling from that statement, police that I recognized called him out. I heard laughter, and in the pit of my stomach I felt sick. It was all a setup.

It was almost Ramadan, they sleep all day and party all night.

I see Ahmad at his Shop. We make love in his loft. At my apartment he is with me, but not in the flesh. A strong wind blows the window open, he is with me, I feel him.

My birth control pills have mysteriously disappeared?

At court the following day they move Evans to the big ancient prison up in the Medina. The same place we took pictures with defanged cobra’s around our necks that tourists took pictures of.

The next day I take Rhea to Cafe Paris on the boulevard. We have mint tea and I feel as I am in a dream and soon I will awake.

The intersection is very busy.

I know it is time to go to the American Embassy.