The Wandering Potato

Dear everybody,  I miss the blog! Do you miss the blog? Welp, either way, we are back baby! I am writing to you from a McDonald’s in Portugal. Yup. Sorry Mother Earth. I write to a background of clubbing music, people drinking beers on a Saturday morning with their happy meals (I guess you can order that here, a true Portuguese special). I fill my water bottles from the bathroom and charge all my batteries, including my own! I set myself a very interesting challenge, booking a flight from inside my tent in Tafedna, Morocco, 3,000 kilometer’s away leaving from Paris On may 18th.   Home? Yes home! I decided it was time to end my journey. I’ve been trying to get to 100k’s everyday to make the distance which, actually, at this point is physically impossible as I am still in the south of Portugal. Thank Allah for trains…and possibly hitch hiking? And buying a flexible plane ticket.   I know I owe you all stories from the rest of my months in Morocco…I have So, so much to say b...

The next part of the journey has been hard to capture, it’s like trying to take notes of the    film scenes that are projecting in the background of my head, but what is art if not a long essay of trying to capture life…or something? So, for you, and for me, I try…. What was meant to be a two day ride turned into six day journey filled with Amazinh culture, police escorts, bad encounters with men all set against other- worldly landscapes.  On January 29th I wrote in my journal:  The sun is actually hot. I am actually sweating. Possibly even burning. I’m at a restaurant outside of Agafay. A young boy goes by on a donkey. All day I’ve passed children working and I wonder… is it good for kids to maybe work a little? Is that an obscene thing to say? My cream pants are completely covered in mud and ripped from this morning leaving Marrakech. Despite that (and the crazy traffic close to the main square) it was hands-down the easiest capital city to leave of my trip yet. Af...