José had dug out most of the cave himself. Carved into the mountain like a big doughnut, the front door led into a bright, beautiful family room and kitchen. A short tunnel of white plaster led out of the kitchen through two bedrooms, a huge walk-through closet, a bathroom, even a laundry area, all with electricity and running water, and back around again into the family room. It was nothing like what I imagined when I heard the word “cave.” If the door had been round, I could have mistaken it for the entrance to Bilbo’s hobbit hole. Continue reading “My Life As A Caveman”
Est-que vous avez les cartes pour Maroc Telecom?
Deux cinquante dirhams, s’il vous plait.
It’s strange, coming back to a place that is so familiar while still being so foreign. I arrived in Tangier last night after an adventurous day traveling from Granada, Spain. I’m not sure I would be calling it adventurous if finally arriving hadn’t been the most normal thing about it. Getting oriented in Morocco was easy the second time around. Getting here was not. Continue reading “The Angry Sea”