After the insanity of Marrakech, our first stop is the village of Imlil. Because, when in a hot, desert country, what better a thing to do than climb a mountain without any of the appropriate equipment?
I ride a school bus every morning now. Again. A big yellow one. With green vinyl seats you peel yourself off of in hot weather. With the fold-out STOP sign. With the flashing lights. With the windows that only slide halfway down, enough to only tease riders about relief from the stifling environs. But my lunch hasn’t been stolen (yet), so things are still good.
Another from the swamp in Edgewood, about a half hour north of Baltimore. It should be worth returning in a few months amidst the snow and frozen water.