Stay Magical, Morocco.
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. Afte...