Sep 19:  Marrakech


Out of bed around noon.  That was my intent after finishing the vodka.  Plus I still felt a bit ill from dinner.

Left the hotel 12:45pm.  Noticed a mosquito bite on my arm.  Yes!  The mark of having been somewhere interesting and exotic, like Asia or Philly.  I'll take the memories and the itching over neither.

I didn't really have any destination.  I walked down Ave Mohammed V with a general intention of getting lunch.  Realized I wasn't too far from McDonalds and KFC.  More appealing than a tajine at this point.

Callback to the "whiff" reference on September 7.  Again, giggles for 2 of us.

And on the same menu, the Royal(e) with Cheese!  I didn't know they were gone but they're both back ("le retour")!  This blew my mind and I high-tailed it out of there!  Bookended the trip with KFC instead.

Yesterday someone mentioned seeing the Majorelle Garden.  I figured it would be a good use of time to walk up there and see what all the fuss is about.  The garden was created by French painter Jacques Majorelle, and later owned by Yves Saint Laurent.  How does he get a second mention in this travelogue?  Entry is 50 dh, so it must be good   You can tell how entertaining something is by how much it costs to get in.  The Crispy Comedy show is free, and I know that's not enticing.  That's why I book 30 alcoholic comedians...to make up for the lack of a civilian audience.

Fish, in a corner of the garden.  Even fish get excited when they see me.  All animals do, because they can tell I'm a friendly awesome guy.  All animals except human females.  They're not as perceptive.

Yves Saint Laurent memorial.

Majorelle Garden.  Cool peaceful place.  Too many people though.

Have you heard?  (Don't click on that!  It's a trick!  See here for details.)

Lily pond.

Fountain and cactus.  Majorelle apparently loved cactuses more than anything in the world.

Lily pond.  The same one.

Pool that runs the length of the garden from the gazebo to the fountain.

Fountain and cacti.

Fountain.

Cactus plants.  One of each species.  What a cactophile ouirdo!

Oh yeah, the garden is located on Rue Yves Saint Laurent.  He's kind of a big deal here.

Flora and the gazebo.  I sat on a bench to the left near the gazebo and the exit.  A hottie tourist (most here seemed to be speaking French) was taking photos.  I noticed she was aiming in my direction.  Determined that there was nothing else photogenic around me, and she was taking photos of Hot Guy On Bench.  Sometimes I go for months without so much as eye contact from a girl, and then some days I wake up all good-looking, possibly with a mild case of the kavorka.  This...POWER!  One time two tourist girls came through my line at the Acme and took a pic of me.  And I think a fellow tourist in India was stealthily taking pics, possibly for later private use.  But this hottie at the garden wasn't as discreet.

Walking back from the garden (as opposed to The Garden, which I'll be at tomorrow) I saw 6 cats in and around a dumpster.  They actually get their dinner from a garbage can, as Brian Seltzer sang.  Yes, it's Seltzer, not Setzer.  I heard this once from a guy who claimed to be a big Brian Seltzer fan.

Walking further I passed a Vietnamese restaurant serving pho.  Dammit!  KFC was a dumb idea.

Back to the hotel 3:20pm.  Aftershock dump.  Paying 10 dh extra to get my Crispy strips spicy at KFC after last night's poisoning was a bad choice.  Noticed a large rash on my legs on both sides of my crotch.  I assume that's from sitting so much but it's not sightly.  Maybe if I rub it on my face I can cure myself of the kavorka.

At 4:09pm I went to the lobby for Wi-Fi.  Percy was there too.  I heard the Benny Hill theme playing from the direction of the desk.  I cautiously went over to investigate.  Guy at the desk was watching some random wacky video on his phone that happened to have the Benny Hill theme dubbed over it.  I was hoping he was watching an actual episode.

I left the do-not-disturb ("ne pas déranger"...indeed, do not derange me) sign on my door all day, so housekeeping wouldn't see and confiscate my bottles, or see an article of clothing that I had to rinse out and hang to dry.

Showered.  We all left 6:40pm and took a public bus to Jemaa el Fna for our final dinner.  I had lamb skewers and was spoon-fed Moroccan salad.  Jonathan and Dick had pigeon tajines.  Didn't look like there was much meat, and it was dark.  After the chicken pastilla that I didn't like, I didn't replace it on my list of 8 things with pigeon pastilla or pigeon in general.  I'd lost interest.

Walked the square with Sophia 9pm-10pm looking for dessert.  I clarified how to pronounced "dessert" and explained the schwa.  I rejected many displays of sweets and ultimately found a delicious chocolate cake.  I mean a 2-person slice of one for sale.

The group reassembled and we took the bus back to the hotel.

Sign in the bus.  Translation:  If you exit the bus and immediately try to steal the right rear tire, and you are also MC Hammer, make sure your pants don't get caught in the door.

Arrived at the hotel 10:30pm.  People would be leaving at different times tomorrow (and a few on Sunday) so we did our final goodbye hugs, except for a few people I'd be seeing in the morning.  I was hoping to go out for a nightcap with Nikky and/or Sophia, but they were done.  The tour is done.  Like Siegfried after Montecore gave Roy a goodbye hug:  "The show is over."  Sophia suggested I have a beer for her in New York.  I said I'd make it a German beer.

Left the back lobby 10:55pm after the hugs ran their course.  Bed 11:45pm.


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