Rudely awakened by a steady stream of hotel guests using the toilet and shower outside our room we resisted the sounds of the morning (and the toilet) until 8o'clock. Feeling groggy we got out of bed and I set about cleaning the clothes that didn't make it into the boys washing machine back in Meknes while D went to find a better and cheaper place to sleep for the evening.
We decided to take it easy (again) and spent some time in the internet cafe where we downloaded 'The Travels of Marco Polo', which I have seen mentioned so many times that I thought I should read it. We meandered down to the local beach which was busy, specially for a weekday and full of boys and young men. Djalma jumped in the sea while I lay in the shade feeling a bit dodgy after so many coffees, it was a nice lazy afternoon, even if the beach was a little too full of testosterone.
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| From Al Hoceima, Mediterranean Coast, Morocco |
We are back in one of the cafes from the morning where I chugged down strong coffee to get my body going again. The T.V is on full blast and D is positively fizzing with excitement about Brazil's first game, did you know that Brazil is the only country in the WORLD that has been to every world cup? No, neither did I and frankly I couldn't give a whisper of a fart, but resistance is futile and I may as well get used to it because Brazil is hosting the next world cup and the chances are that we'll be there. Woo. Hoo.
Post match my opinion has changed a little – I COULD give a very big, loud smelly fart about football, at some point I stopped taking pictures of Djalma and started watching the game, seeing the guy who scored North Korea's only goal was like watching a kid being given the biggest lollipop ever. This doesn't mean that I'm suddenly in love with football, just that I can stomach the odd game without my socks being bored off.
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| From Al Hoceima, Mediterranean Coast, Morocco |
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