A rhetorical question.

--

Lisa: So, what did you miss about London?

Me: The friends, I guess. It wasn't the cold and it wasn't the rain and it definitely wasn't the Londoners who find it amusing to give me wrong directions all the time.

--

One way out of here.

--

'I think I'll have the risotto.'

'But you never like the risotto.'

'Yes I do, why would you say that?'

'Oh, my God, Rishi, you're doing it again. My sister does this thing - she gets confused and thinks she's me. You're the one who hates risotto. You say it all the time.'

'Oh, that might be true, actually.'

--

Anne Taintor

--

"I'm sorry to be listening to your conversation," he said, from the other side of the table. "But I totally agree. Guys are the last of the romantics. We don't care about a ring. It could even be plastic! But women? They're not about the love at all. It's the ring that matters to them!"

His girlfriend, a bride-to-be, shrugged and pulled him away. As they walked out into the street, they argued about how much a ring was worth.

--

From She Magazine

This is the complete transcript of everything that was said aboard the Guildford to London train yesterday morning.

--

Going nowhere on a train.

Stuff this in a sock, I'm leaving!

Cristina Sampaio

--

"If you are like me and dying for a cigarette, I would like to ask you to wait until you get to a designated smoking area. Do consider, gentleman smokers, that smoking can cause impotence. I would like to thank you for flying RyanAir on behalf of the captain, the co-pilot, and mostly the crew. That's me, Joao and Nuno, who is celebrating his 27th birthday today. As his mother told him this very morning, 'Nuno you are almost a man now.' Be careful, good luck, and as the other guy says, please be happy." - SuperMario, Stansted Airport

See no evil

How many pens is a picture worth?

--

I have a love for Marrakech few other cities can rival. It's the way the city looks and feels like it has been through the blender and all kinds of cultures and ages ended up mixing. It's in the way the city can live off the tourists and without them. It's in the way the Souk feels like it should: authenticated even if it's fake, like a carpet with a tag. It's in the beauty of its streets too - the streets that, like the dunes in the desert, change colours throughout the day. And as it changes colours, it changes moods - but it is always mysterious.

Beautifully so, of coure.

--

Don't pass me by

CBK 06

'Is this the first time you've been to Morocco?' He asked, like about a hundred before him.

'No,' Dad said, 'we came here for the first time 26 years ago.'

'Ah, so you have been nomads all your life!'

--

The Sahara / a sahara (my parents)

('On 3, show me your favorite yoga stance!')

Finnt, the hostess

--

'Your berber: it is not bad,' she said.

'Thank you. I'm only learning.'

'He's moving into the desert,' Khamal said, laughing. 'He's found the house.'

--

Finnt

Tinerhir

--

'What about this one?'

'That one, Mohammed? It has the dunes and the mountains, see? For traveling. Repeated four times, like the seasons - means all year. And then all around, on the borders, see? Mountains, too. Unbroken, like... forever. This is a nomad's carpet.' Mustafa explained. 'Perfect for a prince of the desert, no?'

'I like it.'

'What's wrong with the one about a big family and a safe house?' My mom asked.

'I - I don't like it so much.'

'Doesn't Prince Tagine want one for his room? or you, Pasha? Great Sultan? To make the Royal Treasurer happy, no?'

We left Tinerhir with a variety of nicknames and a carpet I've been promised will fly.

Me: 'Khamal, could you stop right there? Just for a picture?

'I think I found where I want to live.'

Khamal: 'I think with a nice bedouin girl maybe?'

Mom: 'I think he's feeling better.'

'You know what? You're not only stupid, you're stoic too. Suffering in silence like that. You're sick, admit it.'

(-Accidental Alliterations)

(Photo credits belong to Jose Vieira Peres)

Skins for Wolves

--

When I walked down through the markets of Fez all I saw was imitation Adidas track suits, cheap Nike shoes and fake leather shops. To escape from this Maghrebi Chinatown, there was probably no place better to hit than Meknes. The city had a real market, with real tradesmen and artisans where the locals actually shopped at.

--

Story teller draws a crowd

Fez

--

Our guide spotted an old acquaintance and immediately warned:

'Ladies, be careful with your handbags. Make sure they are closed.' His friend approached him and reproached him.

'Momo, come on, you are ruining my business here. Think about my family! I have two boys -'

'Who are almost thirty.'

'Well, yes, but that's not the point.'

I can't actually follow a conversation in Arabic (yet?). But this is what they were saying. I'm pretty sure.

Fez, early morning

--

When I woke up in Morocco, I realised few things could make me so happy.