Greetings greetings, one and all 
Forgive me for not updating for the last couple of days and not replying to your festive wishes but I have a very good reason - I spent Christmas in Marrakech!!
Indeed indeed, what better way to avoid family arguements, board games and brussel sprouts than flying off to warm Islamic climate where 99.9% of the population are Muslim and have never heard or Christmas.
Oh, did I mention that no one speaks English either. The national tongue seems to be French, a necessary snippet of information the fuckwit Travel Agent forgot to tell me before I booked the holiday. Granted it is probably my own fault for pitching up at a travel agent's at 3 o'clock in the afternoon and telling him I didn't care where we went as long as we could fly out the following day (which we did, at around lunchtime!) but that's besides the point.
Language barrier aside (it's funny how much I remeber from my school days. Almost enough to have a conversation with a cabbie...) it was a top time. Horse-drawn carriages were ridden through the Royal Palace, rugs were purchased from persistant market sellers (at a fairly well knocked down price, if I do say so myself) and local foodstuffs were eaten from a tagine which, whatever it was, turns your poo a bright yellow colour. At one stage, the hotel toilet bowl looked like someone had drawn in it using one of those flourescent yellow highlighter pens....
I will dedicate a full journal entry to the exciting events of the impromptu holiday later. It is late and I have just flown in to Jersey from Gatwick and I am remarkably tired, however I leave you with to observations:-
1) The last 10 days have been plagued with flat tyres. I had a blow out driving to the airport, a Moroccan cabbie had a flat tyre and wouldn't let us out of the car while he changed the wheel, and the coach from Victoria Station to Gatwick (no Gatwick Express trains running today) got a flat tyre and it took two and a half hours for him to get us to the airport when it should only have taken an hour.
2) Whilst on the aforementioned coach going back to Gatwick I had the misfortune to be sat next to an excited French child. I managed to ignore it for most of the journey while it was singing and kicking my chair, but I did lapse in to a moment of French-speakingness, which resulted in a very scared child and a furiously babbling parent. Conversation thus (and please excuse my spelling)....
Child pointing excitedly "Monsieur, monsieur, regardez le cheval" (Sir, sir, look at the horse)
MROtired and scratchy "Ce n'est pas un cheval, c'est un vache vampire qui mangez les enfants" (That is not a horse, it is a vampire cow which eats small children
Fna
Forgive me for not updating for the last couple of days and not replying to your festive wishes but I have a very good reason - I spent Christmas in Marrakech!!
Indeed indeed, what better way to avoid family arguements, board games and brussel sprouts than flying off to warm Islamic climate where 99.9% of the population are Muslim and have never heard or Christmas.
Oh, did I mention that no one speaks English either. The national tongue seems to be French, a necessary snippet of information the fuckwit Travel Agent forgot to tell me before I booked the holiday. Granted it is probably my own fault for pitching up at a travel agent's at 3 o'clock in the afternoon and telling him I didn't care where we went as long as we could fly out the following day (which we did, at around lunchtime!) but that's besides the point.
Language barrier aside (it's funny how much I remeber from my school days. Almost enough to have a conversation with a cabbie...) it was a top time. Horse-drawn carriages were ridden through the Royal Palace, rugs were purchased from persistant market sellers (at a fairly well knocked down price, if I do say so myself) and local foodstuffs were eaten from a tagine which, whatever it was, turns your poo a bright yellow colour. At one stage, the hotel toilet bowl looked like someone had drawn in it using one of those flourescent yellow highlighter pens....
I will dedicate a full journal entry to the exciting events of the impromptu holiday later. It is late and I have just flown in to Jersey from Gatwick and I am remarkably tired, however I leave you with to observations:-
1) The last 10 days have been plagued with flat tyres. I had a blow out driving to the airport, a Moroccan cabbie had a flat tyre and wouldn't let us out of the car while he changed the wheel, and the coach from Victoria Station to Gatwick (no Gatwick Express trains running today) got a flat tyre and it took two and a half hours for him to get us to the airport when it should only have taken an hour.
2) Whilst on the aforementioned coach going back to Gatwick I had the misfortune to be sat next to an excited French child. I managed to ignore it for most of the journey while it was singing and kicking my chair, but I did lapse in to a moment of French-speakingness, which resulted in a very scared child and a furiously babbling parent. Conversation thus (and please excuse my spelling)....
Child pointing excitedly "Monsieur, monsieur, regardez le cheval" (Sir, sir, look at the horse)
MROtired and scratchy "Ce n'est pas un cheval, c'est un vache vampire qui mangez les enfants" (That is not a horse, it is a vampire cow which eats small children
Fna
snowballinhell:
You went with rainwolfkin I am presuming???? 
rainwolfkin:
why do you ask? do you have a snake that needs charmed?