Firstly, a note to apologize for long absence. Some say post Westgate xenophobia has lessened. Not true if you’re a journalist in Kenya. The things I want to write about I feel I cannot. Not if I consider Kenya my home. So this is what journalistic oppression feels like.
Casablanca is a sprawling, dirty, seaside attempt at modernity, with a few cool old areas with Deco buildings near the Corniche. The sunlight and semi-arid weather reminds me of LA.
Now driving from Casablanca to Marrakech. Countryside is a curious blend of agricultural France, eastern Montana’s flat cattle ranch country and Cholame, California, the artichoke country, where James Dean died.
