Maroc(k) on!

I'm typing this from my wee phone so all typos *must* be forgiven, otherwise you are permitted to read no further... Unless we are blood relatives or have known me for at least five years. Then you get a free pass.

Morocco is amazing! Particularly the yellow food that is becoming a trend on this holiday. On the flight over from Montreal to London, Devin and I were offered, shock, chicken or beef. I went beef because I think chicken is far more popular than it deserves to be. My beef was in a mushroom sauce with tinned mushrooms served with neon yellow rice. The neon rice stained the plastic container neon yellow, making me leery. (quote of flight, Devin: "This dessert tastes more like a brownie!!" Jen: "Umm, Devin, it is a brownie."

For brekkie on the plane we were served cake. We were told right after take off that we would be served supper ("dinner", but I like to keep my terminology East Coast) and a "snack". I think it was supposed to be a tiny loaf of banana bread, and when it was served to us I said too loudly "Cake for breakfast?" and the air line attendant laughed. I felt it was European appropriate, trying to pass off pastry as breakfast. But it was cake, so it was actually American hotel chain continental breakfat appropriate. ("La Quinta doughnut, cake, cakey doughnut, or doughnutty cake?")

More neon yellow food followed. I made fun of my AC meal before pealing off my chicken container on Royal Air Maroc, only to be greeted by neon yellow chicken and potatoes. Cue (too loud) laughter. However, neon yellow potatoes seem to be a Moroccan staple and are, how do you say... Absolutely delicious. Also important, they match the shirt I'm wearing. And would look amazing in my bright bedroom.

Customs officer: "Anything to declare?"
Jen: *holds up duty-free whiskey* "An f-ing party! Wooooo!"
CO: "Uh huh... Anything else?"
Jen: "Yes, thirty pounds of cooked neon yellow delicious potatoes... And a small party."

Friday's neon yellow food came in the form of delicious veggie tagine. Tonight's neon yellow was with my delicious lamb chops. They could just put the word "delicious" in front of every menu option and I would nod in agreement. The only thing I don't like is the olives served with every meal. I've probably been served 50 olives so far, including on the plane. I have eaten 0.5 olives, which was 0.25 too many.

Better than olives but not as good as winning the lotto is the juice. Fresh squeezed! No canned crap here. I had OJ in Marrakech that was made about 8 seconds earlier. I had strawberry juice with lunch yesterday that made me want to get up on the table and have a dance party. It was like someone crush 800 sstarwberries in a glass and handed it to me trying to get rainbows to burst from my chest. Success!

Marrakech was not quite total chaos, but minor chaos that works. Everyone and their donkey (literally) is everywhere. People, cars, animals, bicycles, and motorbikes all somewhat yield to each other without yielding at all. A common understanding that you will not get more room than you need and we will not touch each other. If you are a visitor, do not even consider trying to participate in any way other than on foot. To hire a car would be akin to a person with a peanut allergy swimming in a delicious vat of peanut butter (yum). Also, based on our cabs, seatbelts are for losers who are SCARED and WHIMPY. Some cabs have the seatbelt part, but good luck finding something it'll buckle into. If you are squirmish in traffic, it's best just to close your eyes, though then you may miss the morning coffee delivered through the drivers window, the Moroccan version version of the driveway.

C'est tout. Not really, but I'm worried this won't even post as it's linked through an email due to Blogger not loading on my phone.

Bon voyage!