Escape from the South

Luck was with me on Thanksgiving and I caught a taxi out of Tafrout with three young Berbers and a young French hippie mother with a 5 year old child (she was dating a surfer Berber and the kid wasn't his). They didn't cut my throught (ahamduleela) and I got to Taroudant and had Thanksgiving with an American couple from Oregon, a Frenchman who only spoke French and Spanish and a Corsican artist who was here to paint naked Moroccan men. Chicken Tagine replaced turkey. Getting out of Taroudant proved more difficult (7 hours on a slow bus), but I made it back to Marekesh. The city is oddly comforting the 3rd time around. I know where the good shwarma is and the hotel people love me for coming back a third time. I'm going to try to get to Fes before leaving via Casa but I am very sick of buses. Its five hours to Rabat. I'm not sure if I can tolerate it. Well, Thanksgiving weekend is all about the pain of traveling, right?