Woke up at 4am to the smell of something burning. Dean said it was toast. Toast? At 4am? Then at 4:45, the muezzin started chanting. At that hour? I looked out our tiny third floor window and saw a fire IN OUR ALLEY!!!!! The muezzin continued to chant. Finally, someone threw a washbasin full of water on the fire and put it out. The muezzin stopped chanting. Maybe he was saying, " there is a fire, go put it out". That's my story and i am sticking with it. I think it was a garbage bag on fire, but it made a good story at breakfast.
Went to some roman ruins today from the 1 st and 2 nd century with amazing mosaics. Lunch was lamb and quince. Fantastic.
Last night we went to a show that was absolutely terrible. The band ( and I use that term loosely) was made of four guys: one playing the violin upright, one on mandolin, one on a large bongo and one on the tambourine. Percussion in a Moroccan band has got to be the most boring job in the world. The show didn't improve with a percussion band. Five guys, three with hand drums, one on the gourd and an old guy beating a large pair of scissors with a stick. And these guys don't drink alcohol! The belly dancer was dressed head to foot with a black sequined sash around her ample ass. We had lemon chicken tagine for the third time in two days, needless to say, no one was all that hungry.
Off to Rhoda Spain tomorrow.
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