Sometimes it feels like I am floating weightless in the eye of a violent storm… a constant chaos swirling around me and my quiet cocoon universe of Michael-Land.

Once I arrived in Inezgane (just outside of Agadir), the taxi swindlers tried their best to rape me for 80 dirhams for a ride to Agadir… actual Moroccan price is 3 dirhams… we finally settled on 6dh…

The mad-max style driving is very Grande-Turismo-video-game crazy… and a real thrill ride… no one pays attention to lanes or street lines… they weave around each other, in and out, straddling the center line, sometimes three wide in a one lane road… nobody wears or has seat belts… I just keep silently praying that my driver wins…

I try to keep moving at all times to not look lost. If you walk with purpose, straight on, with conviction, like you know where you’re going, you will have less cling-ons… or panhandlers… or bloodsucking merchants… or a self-appointed “guide”… or restaurant barker… or drug entrepeneur… all clawing at you and wanting a piece of you…

It is this constant movement (physically) and having to be on-guard and paranoid (psychologically) all the time, that makes me exhausted at the end of each day.