This is my wife in the Renault 4 that we took through Morocco back in 1985. We drove that car south from Marrakech up over Tiznit pass. I remember there was a cliff face on the right, a life-ending plunge to the left, and big African phosphate trucks and herds of goats squeezing us between one or the other.
As it started to snow, the fuse in the dash shorted out and, without stopping, I popped out the dead fuse, wrapped it in chewing gum foil, and popped it back it, and the windshield wipers started to work again. My wife was so tense she burst into tears and I had to turn around.
My wife says, just now “anyone with SENSE would have burst into tears”
A few roadside camels.
A juju (magic shop) in Marrakech. Those are skins of various wild animals hung at top. Marrakech is on the northern end of the Sahara, where black Africa bumps up against the Arab world. The farther south you go, the more juju.
In the dye market in Marrakech about 33 years ago. We had emulsion film back then, dust on the needle, and no cell phones. If you got lost, you were LOST. When I visited again with my son, things were much the same, but now with digital phones.
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