TANGER-DANGER

I'm hungry! The lead on Ali Booba is taking me on a starvation route. For I am presently in muslim country, right at the peak of Ramadan. Out of respect for the natives, and great fear of being lynched, I too am not eating. I also have little choice : no food is served anywhere from sunrise till sunset! What could be worse? What could be better, I say. It's an all night food fest. Couscous and tagine galor! I can't tell yet whether it's a great new way to lose weight or a one way ticket to obesity. If my regularity ever comes back - the johns I've visited are in no way an incentive for relief - I might be in a position to conclude on that. I'll keep you posted.

This ancient spy nest still smells like an old extinguished reefer, but, lucky for me, its network is still intact. I can't say for sure I comprehend fully how it functions, 'cause whenever you have a problem here there is always someone to help you out with everything you may need - except that! But a note did make its way into my room, so somewhere along the line I must have over-bakchiched the right person. I will leave tomorrow.

It isn't difficult to understand how this place, Little Socco in particular, inspired the likes of Tenessee Williams, Kerouac, and the Rolling Stones. A dark excitement roams here like...like...like the afterscent of...yes, an old reefer - chocolate, they call it here.

Hasta luego, inshallah!

Jack Stack