Well the title says it all – thank heavens, I am back in Morocco. I think that when it comes down to it, I like being in other places, and hate the travelling. On the other hand, as soon as I got a little food in me, I was immensely cheered up- and perhaps that’s just because Royal Air Maroc serves couscous on its flights. Not very good but still: airborne couscous. Awesome.

After Verona and Venice, Milan was actually a bit disorienting – it’s an actual city! People live there! There are no constant trains of tourists! I saw the Duomo, which looks like a drippy sandcastle you’d make at the beach as a child, and some huge indoor shopping arcade with Versace this and Armani that and so on. For the second most Catholic country in the world, Italians sure are big on self-glorification and self-idolotry. At least the ones I saw shopping at Versace are.

Anyway, I’ve said it before- the only persons name I want written on my underpants is that of my good friend, Monsieur de la Loom. That’s Mr. of the Loom for your monoglots.


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