These guys know Rick Stein (actually), Gary Rhodes (probably), Gordon Ramsay (possibly)... and have a very poor veiw of Scousers. The food comes in seconds and is amazing. What we had would cost these guys three days wages. The boss has a very nice car and a villa. That's capitalism.
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Furniture factory and show-room, 5m x 3m. Jesus's dad was a small businessman and this is exactly what his shop would have looked like.
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Wish we didn't have to leave Marrakech. It's been an assult on the senses, snakes and smoke, drumming, henna, ripp-offs and bargains. But we gotta keep moving. So it's up at six tomorrow for the 2000m pass over the Haut Atlas - via Tizi-n-Test to Agadir.
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So it's new year's day and some of us DON'T have life-threatening hangovers. Dave and Phil have spent most of the day in the souk, we were hassled, but we haggled, and managed to pick up some bargains. We are meeting the rest of the crew for dinner in the Medina for lashings of snails and sheeps brains tonight... before retiring for an eqrly start;
Chris and Jack have quite spectacular hangovers; which is only fair considering... Allah be praised.
We are having a bit of trouble posting to this site by iPhone tho... so here's the plan...
In the morning, 2nd Jan we are on the road again - if we can't get this site to work go to...
Click group 4, then select out team name from the menu, and then 'SMS REPORTS' which will give you crude (no, not that type of crude) reports. No pics tho... but we'll get the IT team onto it:)
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This picture makes the site at Meknes look real purdy. Amazing what you can do with a little creative framing. To be fair, the setting is amazing - in the grounds of the city castle. The plumbing and lectrics would worry you though. Now we are on the road to Cassanlanca, gotta make Marrakesha tonight.
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Lee and Chris shouted a halt in the dark, 20k from destination, in the dark... With a 'worrying' noise from front disks. Wheel off in the camp site...
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Well it's been an amazing drive today from Tanger. By the road are women in bright red and orange shawls, sometimes with babies strapped to their backs. Old men on donkeys. Young men flashing huge bricks of hash or miming inhalation as we drive past. Shacks with pyramids of stacked onions or jars of olives in semi-opaque home-pressed oil. Boxes of oranges stacked high. Smoke from fires. The most verdant feilds stretching to the horizon. Distant Atlas mountains tumbling merangues of cloud. White Mercedes. Old lorries. And all the time, banter on the walkie-talkies. Keeping in the convoy. Watch out for the pothole. Go go go past the lorry. Next left. And here we are, camping, and exhausted.
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