My car and me keep drivin’ into the setting sun

Because of my current official status working on a French government-funded project, I am not entitled to a resident card in Morocco. Therefore, I could not buy the car I wanted locally and obtain a Moroccan license plate for it. So I took the opportunity of a business trip to France last week to buy the exact car I wanted online and second hand. I took three days off work to drive it back down from Montpellier to Meknes.

The road trip was enjoyable driving through Spain along the Mediterranean coast and through the Andalucian Sierra Nevada down to Algeciras where I boarded the ferry for Tangiers.

During the two days I drove through Spain, I set my internal feeding clock to Spanish time, taking a mid-morning sandwich so as not to get too hungry before the late 2pm lunch, which is only the beginning of normal lunch time in Spain. I enjoyed a very dense and concentrated hot chocolate on my first afternoon at the Café de Loló in the small village of Riba-roja de Túria in the suburbs of Valencia, and a glass of equally syrupy sherry wine after my excellent seafood dinner at Restaurante La Esquina in Algeciras on the second evening.

The sea in the Gibraltar Straight was very calm for our morning crossing. After a two-hours'-long wait to clear my car through Moroccan customs, I chose the speedier motorway ride back to Meknes, stopping over in the seaside town of Larache for a delicious sardine tajine sitting along the mouth of the river Loukkos.

On all three evenings of my road trip, I was impressed by the beautiful pink lights developing as the sun set: first in the old part of Riba-roja de Túria village, then overlooking Gibraltar peninsula from Algeciras. As I waited to refill my car's fuel tank upon arriving in Meknes on the third evening, I was gently immersed back into my new home by the pink dusk light and the delicate smell of green orange blossoms.

Adapted from I’m a poor lonesome cowboy
Pat Woods, From the original motion picture Lucky Luke: Daisy Town

Raindrops keep falling on my head

I am excited to report that I have moved on to a new job, a new country and a new culture.

I have taken the role of Science Partnerships Coordinator at the National Agricultural Postgraduate School (ENA Meknès) in Morocco. The position is funded by the French Ministry of Foreign Affairs with the objective of using research to build the capacity of young African professionals in agriculture, and of promoting ENA Meknès’s excellent training and research expertise. The most exciting prospect is the strong likelihood that I will be able to blog about my work again; keep watching this blogspot!

So I am back on the African continent, but this is the first time I am based in the Arabic world and in a majority Muslim country. I have now spent my first month in Morocco and there is one stereotype I wish to debunk from the start: the sun does not always shine on the land of the setting sun. I think I have only had 6 sunny days since I have arrived in Morocco, first in the capital Rabat and now in my new home base of Meknès. To my surprise, it has been grey or raining hard nearly every day. Outside temperatures have been very cold too in January, hovering between 3 and 8°C for two weeks in a row. However, most uncomfortable is that modern buildings here are meant to stay cool during the hot season; they do not retain heat during winter. I can witness that air-conditioners set on reverse are rather inadequate heating systems. As a result, I find the temperature inside buildings is very cold. We are all wearing down jackets and woolen scarves indoors; some ladies wear a double head-veil to keep warm. My ageing joints are suffering from the cold and damp. Visits to the Turkish baths and long hot showers after sports sessions are the only ways I have found up till now to sustain body warmth.

Another surprising first impression is linked to food. While still waiting for my kitchenware to arrive, I am eating out every lunch and dinner. Restaurants are few in Meknès; snack bars and cafés plentiful. The food they serve is very repetitive and not particularly healthy. I have mainly been served chunks of delicately spiced meat, lots of starch and given plentiful choice options of fruit juices, sweet sodas, sweet dairy products, sweet snacks and cakes. Although the market stalls are rich in vegetables and fresh leaves, I have not seen them very often in my plates yet. It is likely the locals eat their greens at home and go out for big helpings of meat.

With this new phase in my life, I am keen to be active again in improving the potential of African youth in agriculture, explore my new Moroccan surroundings and culture, meet new friends and keep searching for sunshine to warm my body and fibres to balance my diet. 

Just like in the song, although raindrops keep falling on my head, it won't be long till happiness steps up to greet me. 

Raindrops keep falling on my head
B.J. Thomas