Morocco, Pg 11

---

Up early to greet the new day, showered, then off to the bar for breakfast. We’re getting it together for the drive south to Aglou.
With our gear packed, it’s away we go.

After heading south several miles on the main road we turned right onto a roughly paved tertiary road, not even good enough to be rated a secondary road.
We’re now heading in a south westerly direction toward the Atlantic coast.
Again the terrain here isn’t much different than everywhere south of Agadir, mostly flat hard pack sand and dirt with several sand dunes.
However, this area has taken on more of a desert appearance, the dunes are larger and there’s more of them.

We passed through several small villages, maybe even stopping at one or two.
100Km way off to the east you could still see the peaks of the Anti Atlas range…home to the road of impending doom

We’re driving on a slight upgrade when just ahead of us was a large herd of camels. My best guess was there was about 100 of them, it was pretty cool to see.
We had to stop for a bit while they crossed the road.
This was the Moroccan version of a typical central plains cattle crossing.

Further on down the road we came across a fairly large oasis. Nestled down
among the trees and cactus plants was a Bedouin and his camel…
we humorously referred to this part as, Clyde and “the Camel”

We stopped to have a look and to take a picture. The guy sees us and starts running toward us.
We didn’t know what the hell was going to happen next, but we were prepared for whatever.
As he got closer he was waving his arms. We didn’t know if the arm waving meant he was going to try to harm us, or if he was just happy to see other people.

When he got up to the car he began putting his hands on it, feeling it up in several spots as well as rubbing himself against it’s surface, he seemed to be enjoying this part just a bit too much, I guess he didn’t get to see that many cars, or make out with them either.
He came over to us and started to jabber in Arabic.
Of course we had no idea what the hell he was saying; he did however know the word ‘cigarette’.
All he really wanted was to feel up our car, and maybe have a bit of weird sex with it and bum a smoke…
yup, a relaxing smoke after some weird car sex, sounds about right
We gave him a couple of cigarettes, he was happy with that and went back to his trusty steed “the Camel”.
That whole encounter was weirdly bizarre, and very entertaining.

---

The only habitable dwellings in the area, but they were way out of our price range. These buildings were quite new, and will become an integral part of the tourist industry.

We continued on our journey. We made another right turn which would take us directly into Aglou, which for most of it’s not too distant past had been primarily a small fishing community, but now it’s mainly a stop-over for travellers.

At the time we were in Aglou, development was beginning to occur which would eventually tie directly into Morocco’s tourist industry.


This area is frequented by many hippies as they travel around the country. Because it’s a small community and has a large turnover of travelers, that makes it easy to score hash. Some of them even come here and stay for short periods as there was some very cheap accommodation available.
When I say accommodation, I’m using that term very loosely.
Let me tell you, and show you a bit of the cheap accommodations.

These were the affordable accommodations, absolutely disgusting

Now open for occupancy… the Dirt Hill Estates, each unit comes fully equipped with its own family of underground grubs, worms and a variety of other creepy crawling vermin.

I couldn’t believe it, fucking caves {more like crypts} dug into a hard dirt hillside that people actually pay to live in. They were dirty filthy shit holes in the dirt, teeming with vermin, and probably not very safe either.
Holes in the dirt are for dead people; not for the living.
Others were rundown rotting whitewashed shacks, few had floors or doors, but they were all covered in dirt, sand, garbage and a wide variety of creepy crawlers, and no toilets; at least not that I saw.

Also missing from these so called dwellings were: tables chairs beds dressers,
pretty much everything you would expect from a rented accommodation.
These hell holes in the dirt {worse than hovels} weren’t made to be lived in, they’re just a covered space to sleep in.
These places were absolutely the worst accommodations you could imagine.

It was suggested that maybe we should look into seeing how much it would cost to rent here for a week or so. Mine and Eve’s response was, “you guys do what you want, but there’s no fucking way we going to live in a shit hole like this”.

Could you see yourself actually living in a dirt cave?
For Eve & I, there wasn’t a chance in hell.

Below is the entrance to the Executive Class ‘hole in the ground bedroom, or maybe your grave, crypt, or whatever’… enjoy your stay

To me, this was barely one step above living like a caveman, the only thing missing from the picture were large wild animals running about.

There was however a bit of an artistic upside to some of these dwellings, there was wall and ceiling artwork. It looked like every square inch was covered with psychedelic patterns, futuristic and fantasy designs, absolutely fantastic looking artwork, but not fantastic enough for me to want to live there.

Caves and hovels were well below the minimum dwelling standard for Eve and I, no matter how great the artwork is.
With the conversation about renting caves now over for Eve and I,
we walked away from the group.
The idea was never spoke of again, at least not to us.

Beach view from the road into Aglou, absolutely beautiful

We took a long walk on the beach. It was absolutely beautiful.
The sky was a very rich shade of blue which was reflected onto the ocean surface.
The air was so fresh that it seemed to have a cleansing effect as you breathed it in.
And as everywhere along the coast, the waves would roll in and deposit thousands of tiny shells all along the shoreline.
The beach sand was so fine in structure that under your feet it felt more like powder than sand. As beaches go, I think this is as good as it gets, it was awesome.

During the afternoon we met some guy named Fred, he drove what I remember was a white Mercedes convertible with a red leather interior, not too high profile, eh.
But I don’t remember the actual circumstance of how we met him.
He was originally from California but had been living in Morocco for the past five years. He had to leave the States because some organized crime guys were after him; that’s the story he gave us.

He made his living in the hash trade and had some to sell, so we bought a small chunk, really good hash too, equal to that of Double Zero; in fact it could have very well been Double Zero.

We spent the afternoon just hanging out with Fred, smoking many bowls of hash, and I do mean many.
We explored the beach and the local urban area, just taking in all their was to see and enjoying ourselves; having a great day.
We’ve pretty much maxed out on everything there was to see in this community, and the day is now coming to an end, so now it’s time to start heading back to Agadir.

The main road in and out of Aglou

Not only were we were really high when we started back, we were also completely fucked up; and not just your typical high and fucked up either. Our level of high and fucked up was definitely the top rung on the ladder.

There was no way any of us could safely and effectively drive in our condition, but we still have to leave, and that means having to drive.
Mel, having a higher tolerance to THC seemed to be the better choice for a driver.
I knew for sure was that I couldn’t drive, so I’m not even going to try,
and I’m pretty sure Al didn’t want to drive either.
So Mel it is.
Well here we go, we’re on the road again. Hope we make it back alive.

this is going to be an interesting ride back to Agadir, oh fuck yeah…

Along the road in spots were these narrow beaten paths that go off into the deeper desert regions; this was the most western reaches of the Sahara Desert and Badlands.
Mel pipes up and says, “lets take a drive on one”. Everyone was all over him, “no fucking way man”.
These paths into the desert are last places you should ever go. You could venture out into these regions and there’s a chance you may never be heard from again. We didn’t go.

Further down the road we saw a kid, he’s maybe 8 or 10 years old and just standing at the side of the road out in the middle of nowhere.
There were no dwellings in the area, so we’re wondering where this kid came from.
He’s too far away from anywhere to have walked, so we decided to stop.
We thought he may have needed some help.
The kid wouldn’t let us get any closer to him than twenty or thirty feet,
so obviously he wasn’t in need of help.

We had five pop bottles in the car, we put them in the middle of the road in an effort to get him to come closer, he just wouldn’t move toward us.
We walked back away from the bottles, the kid then ran up and grabbed all five and ran like hell off the road into the dirt and just disappeared into the underground.
This just blew our minds.
It was as if a gaping hole opened up in the earth and swallowed him down.
This was pretty weird shit man.
Our guess was he and his family were living underground like fucking moles; how bizarre.
However, given how many unbelievable things we’ve seen since coming to Morocco we shouldn’t be so surprised, but given that almost everything we encounter is a first, so we were once again blown away.
We’ll add this to the list of firsts since coming here. Yup, the mole people.

In the south where these small Argania trees grow, there are goats that climb them and eat the seeds the trees produce. This practice was not natural for the goats, it has been learned. They were originally trained by the shepherds as a means of attracting tourists. Since that time it has now become somewhat instinctive for the new birth goats; they see the adult goats climb the trees, so now it’s become a case of monkey see monkey do.
Tree climbing goats, another first.

Something else very strange and bizarre was about to occur, something that would normally be thought of as completely ridiculous, absurd, and absolutely unbelievable.
It would have been thought of as nothing more then a joke, but it’s no joke,
it’s true.
But all I have is my word that it happened just the way I say it did,
and it did; believe it or not.

So here we go.
Further on down the road we saw a couple of big motorcycles coming toward us. As they went by we saw they were cops. Our butt holes clenched up a bit; we were really high and totally fucked up and in possession of a 15 gram chunk.
The cops were several hundred yards past us when all of a sudden they made a u-turn and they’re coming after us.
Fuck man, we gotta stash the hash somewhere; but we’re sure as hell not going to throw it out the window; no fucking way man.

So in a state of really stoned desperation we stashed the chunk down in the back seat, {was that stupid or what?} which probably would have been the first place they would look, there was just no where else to put it, and in our pockets was not an option.
Now we’re all paranoid, and I’m having visions of spending years in a dirt floor rat infested Moroccan prison eating bugs and shit to stay alive.

Scary fucking thought man….yeah, and again Joe, also quite dramatic

Mel pulled the car over and we got out. The cops come over to us and they’re eye balling us up and down.
These cops were really tall men, over six feet. Mel is close to six feet and these cops were at least four or five inches taller than him; at least that’s how much taller they appeared to be; however, I’m already a short person, so anyone taller than me is tall. But we were all so fucked up that I’m not really sure about anything, except being too fucked up to be dealing with all this shit; that’s for sure.

These were not your typical local cops. Their uniforms were all black with shiny black helmets, shiny black motorcycles and shiny black boots.
These were the King’s personal security police, which meant the situation could become more problematic for us.
Because their skin was so dark with a blueish hue, I was pretty sure they were Central African, not Moroccan, and they also had a real mean look to them as well.
We were all feeling completely intimidated; and I’m pretty sure intimidation was part of their purpose.

The cops aren’t speaking any English other than a word or two, so Al will be doing a bit of interpreting when needed.

One of the cops indicated he wanted to see the rental papers for the car, everyone’s passport, and Mel’s drivers license.
Mel wasn’t carrying anything on him except a bit of cash. So Al goes to the car and got the rental papers from the glove box. Eve pulled all the passports out of her bag and Aileen pulls Mel’s wallet out of her purse and took out his drivers license.
All this paperwork was handed to Mel, who in turn handed it all to the cop.

Both cops are looking at us like we were out of our fucking minds, and given the amount of hash we smoked that day, we most certainly were.
They looked at the rental agreement for the car and checked the passports, everything checked out okay, then handed the paperwork back, minus Mel’s drivers license.
I had the feeling these cops were looking for anything they could find that could be twisted into a criminal act, then they could bust us.

Mel’s license was the old style doubled folded paper type with no photo.
The cop is looking at it with some confusion, he shook his head and said “no” then stated “license”.
Mel indicated this was his license and kinda shrugged his shoulders.
The cop then reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a document and proceeded to unfold it.
It was about a four or five page document with an 8×10 photo of his face on one of the pages, he held this document out for us to see it clearly and said “license”.

This is where Al comes in. As best as he could, using a few words and phrases from a mix of French and Spanish, he conveyed to the cop that this was an international drivers license issued in Canada.
The cop looked at it again, pondering over it for a few seconds, and I’m supposing that because everything else was in order, except our state of mind of course, he said “okay” and handed the license back.

Getting through that was certainly a relief. But just when we thought we could breathe easy again, a big ol’ kick in the nuts may be about to happen.

The other cop now takes a few steps toward the car, stops, then points to the back seat; at which point the loud snapping sound we all heard was probably our butt holes slamming shut.
We thought, we’re fucked now, man. He’s going to search the car and find the Hash and we’re going to spend the rest of our lives in prison.

My current thought was, spending any time in a Moroccan prison was by far the most frightening situation that I could think of. It felt more intense than any scare that I can ever remember having;. Even more frightening than the over the cliff fiery explosion, that scare would have been over in a matter of a few seconds.
Prison is something you have to spend time doing, whether you’re living for the here and now in the hope of being released soon, or living through it while you’re waiting to die.
It was more intense just by fact we were all sharing a very intense scare.

All of a sudden, reaching out to me from some dark corner of my brain, a place deep within me that I never even knew existed, some weird thoughts were beginning to surface and it was freaking me out. I didn’t believe at first they could possibly be coming from me; but they were.
Being as high and fucked up as I was, and also having a very strong drive for self preservation, all my elements have now been greatly amplified.

The most weird of my fucked up thoughts was… if they find the hash we’ll have to kill these cops.
Thoughts about killing the cops was in itself totally fucked up, and now I’m making it worse by actually giving thought to how this cop killing would come to pass.
Just by conjuring up these weird ideas I wondered if I was so freaked out that I was losing some degree of my sanity.
Would I, or could I, or should I, try to strangle them to death, how hard would they fight back. I wondered if us three guys could subdue them long enough to kill them.
the sane answer would be, no fucking way man
Should I try and take their gun and shoot them in the head? would that be an easier solution than strangulation; some crazy fucked up thoughts, man.

All this weird shit brought on by fact of, there’s no fucking way I’m going to prison and eat bugs and shit for the rest of my life.
And I’m pretty sure that in a Moroccan prison, or any prison for that matter, the rest of my life would be quite short at best.
I’m sweating so heavy I feel like I just got out of the shower.

Right now I want nothing more then for this experience to be just a hallucination, or a horribly bad dream; please.

As he was pointing to the back seat he raised three fingers, then pointing to the front seat he raised two fingers, obviously indicating the number of people you can have in each seat.
We did have three in the front and two in the back when they drove past us.
And as it turns out, that was the only reason they chased us down.
What the fuck!

All this freaking out, the stress and panic that we were experiencing, the weird fucked up thoughts I was having, and it was all because of three people in the front seat.
Are you kidding me? Holy shit man, this was just too fucked up.
now I really want to kill these fucking cops, they have no idea just how lucky they are that I’m letting them live…yeah

But given how badly this whole scene could have unfolded, and what could have happened to us, I decided I was okay with how it turned out.
We breathed a sigh of relief and said “yes sir, okay, three in the back and two in the front”.
They were satisfied that we understood.
They nodded, got back on their motorcycles and drove off westward toward the setting sun; just like in the old cartoons…

This episode has been so totally fucking bizarre man.
We just stood there for a few minutes looking back and forth at each other, probably with mouths gaped open in disbelief of what had just happened, but so grateful that we’re not going to rot forever in some shitty dirt floor Moroccan jail.

To me, this whole incident was like seeing it happen to us, but more like we were watching ourselves in a movie that wasn’t really connected to our current reality.
It was like we were watching this all unfold as in some kind of quasi third person scenario, but in actual fact the movie with us in it was our current reality.
But we were too fucked up too know which reality was the one we had to deal with, and which wasn’t.
holy shit.
If this whole scene doesn’t come across as totally far out and completely fucked up, then I just don’t know what else it could possibly be. It wasn’t a hallucination, or imagined, we all saw it, and were part of it.

I know this whole segment of the adventure sounds pretty crazy, and it really is, but it’s the absolute truth.
And I swear, this is just how it all happened. Of course this is the way I saw it from my state of mind at the time it was all unfolding.
but I was not alone in how I saw it, there were witnesses

I’m not even sure if how I’m expressing this makes any sense to anyone;
but that’s best I’ve got for any kind of an explanation.
We were all incredibly high and completely fucked up, and way too high to be dealing with any kind of police shit.

Now, even in our fucked up state of mind, we still had enough of our shit together to know that these cops didn’t have half a brain between them; scary as hell, but totally fucking stupid.
There’s no way they could have thought we were in any condition for driving; even we knew that we weren’t, so they had to know.
You would think that in their police training they would be taught to look for, oh, I don’t know…maybe unusual body language, dilated pupils, the smell of hash on clothing, etc…

They must have realized how fucked up we were once we started to interact with them, but they did nothing about it, maybe they didn’t care; if not, then why chase us down for something so unimportant as to how many people were in each seat?
Maybe they just liked to stop tourists and watch them shit themselves while they scare the fuck out of them with their mean intimidating looks.
And from our perspective the intimidation was working very well.

We just didn’t know or understand why they were doing things, or not doing things the way they did. We just couldn’t come up with an effective way to
explain it. So we’re not going to beat ourselves up trying to figure it out, we’re just going to let it slide. There’s no point in trying to figure out or understand their level of extreme stupidity.

I just don’t get how anyone could be so stupid and still get to become a cop.
That should never happen.
But all that matters now is we’re not on the hook for anything, so we can be on our merry way.
This was all too fucking weird, man.

I’m sure that in most cases if I were to tell anyone about this part of the adventure, they would surely think I was bull-shitting them too the max, the incident sounds just too absurd to be true. But in actual fact, and I can’t say this often enough, it is totally true.

Right now the one thing I’m sure of is, there had to be someone or something from somewhere that was looking out for us today, and I’m so grateful for that.
Maybe it was some of that spiritual thing kicking in; ya never know.

We rearranged what gear we brought with us so as to fit two in the front and three in in the back. We piled into the car and drove back toward Agadir laughing our asses off all the way.
But looking back, this episode could have come to an extremely horrible conclusion.
But it didn’t; lucky us. whew

How in the hell did we ever manage to dodge the bullet on this? and just walk away from the encounter with nothing more than a heavy sweat and the memory of some really fucked up thoughts,
we’ll just never know


but it’s all going to be okay now…

Very happy, but mostly grateful, we’ve made it back to Agadir safe and sound, another wild and exciting day that we’ve made it through.
Hunger is really kicking in now, so it’s off to the bar for a late dinner and a beer, and to re-hash {absolutely pun intended} the events of the day.

After some much needed food and drink the day has now come to and end.
We’re really tired now so it’s back to the tent to crash out.
Good night all…

a bit understated, but wow man, today has been such an emotionally charged, memorable, bizarre, and kinda fucked up day; but so exciting

page #11

linked pages 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20