Took a short trip to Morocco last year and was met with a thriving touring industry, warm hospitality and a genuine desire to improve the country's lot. This is only a superficial impression but we spent a day with an educated fellow who loved his country and was passionate in showing us just a glimpse of life beyond Marrakech. Poverty by western standards yes, but the people we met were neither mad nor bloodthirsty, on the whole they were welcoming and respectful. The biggest crime against humanity perpetrated by Moroccans is the way they prepare their veg, boiled to tasteless mush!
Worth noting that Morocco has a high speed rail network, Ireland can't even join its tramways up.
I once took a group from Dublin to tangier in the 1990s .
we went down the coast in France to Biarritz and stopped and then crossed at Irun and i drove over the Ibericos in a dry night long lightning storm where a doctor on board told everyone on the bus to wear their sunglasses to protect the retina in their eyes -- i said what about me --i was told just stay fucking driving as the lightning hopped on the traintracks beside us on the road .
we went to Madrid and stopped and then to Algeciras near Gibraltar and caught the ferry to Cueta where we stopped for a while before going to Tangeir .
I got directions to the Tangier hotel --HOWEVER we were staying at hotel Tangier .
We entered the lobby as a group and entered hell on earth and it was explained to us afterwards that the hotel was entirely occupied by foreign wealthy pedophiles who had escaped lengthy jail sentences in their own countries by lodging their extreme wealth in a Moroccan bank account which could never now be transferred abroad and formed part of the Moroccan foreign reserve --it basically could only now be spent in morocco.
we saw kids as young as 10- 11 rocking forwards and back nonstop on the kerbside outside -their heads rotted with drugs and their families now rented them out .
we saw groups of middle-aged men paw a red headed young Corkman in our group and titter hysterically amongst themselves .
single men in linen suits took groups of small children upstairs by the hand - we quickly established we were at the wrong hotel and we left the lobby as a group with tears streaming down most of our faces.
people broke down in the street outside --grown men bawled outloud -- it was a moment none of us will ever forget .
We were buzzed by a flight of F16 jets amusing themselves while climbing a mountain road and we saw people coming out of caves barely dressed to see what the enormous sound was .
it was explained that there was no proper census in Morocco and if you were never alive well you are not now dead .
as we returned on the ferry a coach group from England had been mouthing out loud in the streets as they walked to the ferry believing that nobody could understand them cursing the place and everyone in it -- we had a guide who lived in Wexford for years and he told us to separate from this group and wait 20 minutes before entering the ferry-port and he spoke to the police before we entered .
the English women were strip searched including rough anal with gloves and we saw them collapsed on the floor hugging each other in shock -when we went through .
things may have changed --but i am sticking with the ancient African saying -
THE SON OF A ZEBRA ALSO HAS STRIPES.
My wife has asked me to bring her to morocco and i find something to talk about each time it is mentioned ,
hopefully i will avoid this shithole for the remainder of my days .
my son and his girlfriend have been as have our neighbours and all had a great time and not expensive --they must police the tourist areas well today .
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