I think if I did not have any family, I would live here… Marrakech is rocking me and seducing me and letting me fall madly in love with her…

I originally intended to be on my way to some other town a few days ago, but I ran out of cash and my bank declined all attempts at the ATM… cut me off cold… assuming that any activity in Morocco would be fraudulent (yes, I forgot to tell them I was coming here)…

So I was completely out of money for 3 days, stuck in Marrakech, unable to get a call through to the bank to explain… my hotel was sold out full and Muhammed kindly put me up on a cot on their 4th story rooftop… they fed me and watered me and so generously took care of me… with sit-down, home-cooked style Tajine meals… (just me and the hotel maids and hotel clerks)… where each sitting becomes an intimate, hand-to-mouth, family circle as everyone digs their bread into the center community stewing plate (no forks, no spoons)… and laughs and tells hilarious stories… in Arabic… no English…

I finally got thru to the bank with a clever, crazy scheme… Skype and my sister’s two phones, all daisy-chained… I got some fresh cash, and went back to hang out at an amazing restaurant I found a couple days ago… stretched dinner into a 3-hour pleasure treasure… the owner happened to drop in while I was getting a personal lesson from the chef on how they make their Moroccan mint tea… step by step…. (pushing my way in with my steady persistent curiosity)…

Barakat (the French-Australian owner) and I hit it off swimmingly (he used to own several restaurants in LA) and he invited me to run errands with him into the nearby mountains tomorrow… olay.