Red Wine Express

It’s time to talk about survival skills.

A life skill (only a survival skill in certain circumstances) that we all need to learn is the ability to say “no”. This can come in handy in all sorts of situations – marriage proposals, bungee jumping invitations, children who don’t know the difference between wants and needs, politicians who want pay rises – you get the drift.

Walk through a Moroccan market and if you don’t have to say “no” three or four times a minute check for spiders. You are invited to buy, to eat, to consider, to look, to try-on, to chat. And word gets around. The first day the CB and I were in Marrakech we asked a few restaurant spruikers if they sold beer and wine. The answer was generally “no” (see, they can do it too) but afterwards grubby individuals were sidling up to us inviting us, in whispered tones, back to their no doubt salubrious premises to partake of beer and wine. The answer to this invitation is “no”.

After a week in Morocco, we have to face up to (and survive) the inevitable. It’s the same when you go to Bali or other places in Asia like India. I’ve been to both, India many dozens of times so the inevitable is …… inevitable. You know what I’m talking about right?

People who know about these things say don’t drink water from the tap, don’t put ice in your drink and don’t eat salads (the lettuce is washed in that horrible water, don’t you know). What they don’t tell you is not to sit anywhere near those fans blowing clouds of fine water spray out over where you happen to be sitting because it’s a hot day and that spray feels so cool as it settles on your food and in your drink and gets breathed in. They should also tell you not to breathe. Precautions be damned. Bow to the inevitable. But don’t eat street food under any circumstances.

And be prepared because anything lurking in the bowel will be evicted with extreme prejudice. If you haven’t experienced this, imagine sitting down, relaxing and the hangman releases the trapdoor. Sound and fury ensues. Anyway the process is so efficient I’ve dropped two hat sizes.

Harking back to The Iberian Intervention it was pointed out by our guide that Americans are uncomfortable with the word “toilet” and prefer something less confronting like “washroom” whereas Europeans couldn’t care less. So you never see someone go to the toilet in an American movie (unlike in European movies) unless it’s actually the butt (mirth mirth) of the joke. I guess it’s not something that’s generally vital to the plot like gratuitous nudity.

The toilet stop is an integral part of life in this part of the world. In fact “Life of Brian” would have been much more believable with the occasional bog-stop.

And how can we talk about survival skills without talking about the roads. Not just the roads actually. In the tight winding market alleys you’re constantly avoiding motor scooters. A silent electric one went past us once and I thought there was an accident waiting to happen.

And be warned if you happen to be driving through the High Atlas Mountains. There’s a lot of roadworks so if you get too close to the stop/go man there’s a chance you’ll be showered by rocks loosened by the digger about 20m above the road, as a tourist bus in front of us was.