Dear Mum and Dad,
I am getting rather fond of these letters home, as you know it is good for the soull, and peace of mind to write away your thoughts. I am currently in Casablanca at the moment, where absolutely no scene of Bogart's film of the same name was shot here. Disappointing. In actual fact, unless you are wanting to visit the Ministry for Exploitation (it does exist, but i'm sure it has some alternative meaning) and conduct your bisiness in expoiting the wealth of natural resources, labour that is on offer here in Mazroc, there is not much to see.

Yesterday, i let one of these government sponsored guides from the Tourism Syndicate Initiative office take me around the old medina, the Hassan II mosque (the world's 2nd or 3rd largest depending on who you talk to and what you read) which is built on the edge of the Atlantic to fulfil what it says in the Koran, the museum which housed....absolutely nothing apart from some very ornate tiling (i would definitely hire a Moroccan tiler for my house, the craft work is always a masterpiece), and the Rotal Palace which is currently playing host to the King Mohammed VI. Otherwise, it is very western; alcohol is freely available, which is in stark contract to the closet boutiques in other places like Essaouira. Very safe as well, I have not felt threatened at all. I saw the memorial plaque for the bombings in 2003 before which i thought was pretty cool.

Essaouira was a great little town, I think I could have easily got stuck there. I never bought any of the Thuja wood that kind of resembles marble in pattern as I thought maybe as it was everywhere, it wasn't sustainably harvested.I almost bought a chess/backgammon fold out board for 120 dirhams (7 or 8 quid). Instead I bought a jellaba (a long hooded traditional robe to shield from the sun and the cool winter nights) for about 27 quid. I really am a useless shopper. I either want everything or nothing, and then I end up buying some crap i didn't really want! Guess it will make good fancy dress...once!

My thoughts are turning now to reality. Getting a job, earning some money, finding a flat etc...the thought of a 4 hour train ride to Fes where it will 45 degrees does not rest easy with me. In fact I can't be bothered. I seem to be going through phases of being an absolute social animal and meeting as many people as possible, to just doing nothing and reading my books (which I have now all finished). I have met some pretty cool people on this trip, which is what it is all about (locals and tourists), interestingly a lot of people from East London!

Broke my digi camera in the sand dunes trying to create an artificial sandstorm for effect....DUMB! Needless to say sand everywhere. I recovered it, but it is now a bit temperamental.

Sorry I missed a few birthdays, but as say Mum you should send me a list of all the whanau's birthdays! Belated birthdays to you all!

Anyway, looks like i'm catching the 2pm train to Fes from le Gare.
Until next time.
Your loving son,
Tom

PS. I should have paid more attention in French class in Form 1 and 2 at Seatoun School!

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