Mention Seattle and immediately people make some comment about "the weather." Matt is complaining about it before he even gets here! After living here for a week, I personally think it's pretty damn good. Sure there's a little bit of rain, but it's not cold and there's no snow!

It's barely past eight and I'm struggling to keep my eyes open because of the time difference from here to Waterloo to Morocco. But I must stay awake to be safe from that girl from "The Ring" who lives in my T.V.

Sunday: My flight was delayed 3 1/2 hours while they tried to fix the brakes on our plane, then they gave up, and we waited for a new plane to arrive. 3 1/2 hours is a long time to sit around the departure lounge but I would be fine with it if they just put up the new departure time up on the monitor right away. But no. You will wait your 3 1/2 hours 45 minutes, half an hour at a time as they repeatedly announce delay after further delay. Oh and we all got a $3 credit to spend at the snack bar as compensation. I guess that makes my time worth about $1 per hour. Here's a funny conversation that happened at the rental car counter in SEA-TAC at midnight: Avis guy: Sorry but your credit card was declined. Me: I'm not surprised because it's maxed out! The rental is supposed to be payed for. Avis: Well it's not. Me: Ah. Luckily the city bus was still running and took me within two blocks of my temporary apartment for only $1.25. Hey, I didn't really need a car anyway. My suite is at a place called Harbor Steps and it is NICE. I have the corner apartment so my living room and bedroom look out at downtown Seattle in two directions. You get a TV, VCR, fridge, washer, drier, dish washer, microwave, iron, and phone with answering machine. I also have wireless internet, to my delight, but that is courtesy of some unknown neighbour. Here's a funny conversation that happened in the PacMed cafeteria on my first day of work today: Al: Look there's [Amazon CEO] Jeff [Bezos]. Let's go say 'Hi' and I'll introduce you. Wait, do you have anything interesting to say to him? Me: Uh, no. Al: (Pause) Well, I'll introduce you anyway! Another funny highlight watching a Troy McLure style video about insider trading. I started laughing (at the format) just as he said something like "insider trading is a serious issue." "You may remember me from such corporate orientation videos as ..."

This Sunday evening I'll be on flight AC697 from Toronto to Seattle (direct). I'll arrive at about 8pm, get in my rental car and drive to my temporary place at #817 - 1221 1st Avenue Seattle, Washington 98101 United States of America (206) 264-7718 In the morning, I'll take the bus to "New Employee Orientation" at PacMed and see what happens! Meanwhile, back in Waterloo, the movers will hopefully be packing my carefully layed out effects (this part has not yet been accomplished) for shipment to Seattle. Initially I didn't think I would have anything to move, but now I've noticed the following list of things:

• Bike
• Both futons?
• Monitor
• Crap in boxes in attic
• Office chair
• Speakers
• Hockey bag

I don't think I'll be close to the 10,000lbs limit.

The trip is over and I'm back in cold snowy Waterloo. Saturday evening I went out for beers with my Gibraltar hostel roomates, a German kid and this crazy old Indian guy who wouldn't stop talking. The next day, I took the bus to Malaga, then the plane to Paris. I only had time to do one thing in Paris, so I walked to the Eiffel tower and took a taxi back the hostel just before it closed for the night. In the morning, my 2 euro watch from Morocco started malfunctioning (maybe because of the cold?) so I didn't really know what time it was but I still managed to get to the airport in time. Here's a few leftover trip thoughts I have jotted down:

• Spain has this great fast food concept: Baguette sandwiches for around $5. (called Pans & Company) I'd like to see this in North America.
• In the Rif mountains, we ate oranges right off the trees! But don't try this in Spain -- the oranges from the trees along the side of the road are sour.
• Moroccan price facts: Cheap hotel room is 40Dh. A meal at McDonald's is 43Dh.
• Remember the inanimate carbon rod from the Simpson's "Deep Space Homer" Episode? One bus in Morocco used this exact rod based system to keep the back door closed.
• French Fry Sandwiches? What's with that?
• Every developing country could make two simple improvements that, in my opinion, would vastly improve things: 1) Put soap in the washrooms. Then, even if you choose not to use toilet paper, you can use both hands to eat. 2) Put wastebaskets in public places so people can stop compulsively littering.

Gibraltar is the most expensive place on earth. But setting prices in pounds is their way of pretending that it's not. Oh, only 2.49 for a Whopper? Wait that's $6.50 Canadian. I walked to the top of the rock using the crumbling staircase with broken handrails to avoid the overpriced gondolla. It's okay up there I guess. The monkeys are so used to tourists that they just totally ignore you. Also, half the people here are Spanish so it's hard to pretend you're in England.

A small disaster took place yesterday. But let me start where I left off. After Marrakech, I bought a bus ticket to Rabat directly *skipping* Casablanca. But those Moroccan bus companies will tell you whatever you want to hear in order to sell the ticket, so we first drove to Casa. I was chatting in French with this well dressed Moroccan guy sitting beside me for most of the way. He never takes the bus because they're so shit and we were complaining to each other about them. He also thought we were going to Rabat directly, and when it became clear that not only were we stopping in Casa but also changing busses, he got quite upset and started yelling at the bus guy. After a bit of that, he told me we were going to the Police to file an official complaint about the situation. He kept saying that if they can't get this right, how does Morocco expect to host the World Cup soccer tournament in 2010? So *we* both got off the bus and chased the police around for a while. Meanwhile, the bus going on to Rabat left, so when he finally realized this was all pretty futile and gave up, we had to pay more and wait for the next bus to Rabat to leave. I kind of knew this was going to happen, but I went along with it anyway just for the entertainment value. Because of this little (big) delay, when I arrived at the Rabat bus station I didn't have time to head into the city and buy a book, so I just bought another ticket on to Tangier (where the ferry to Spain leaves) but this time with CTM, the national bus company which is *slightly* less ghetto and *slightly* more reliable. It was dark by the time we got to Tangier, the town that scammed me the first day I arrived. My new battle-hardened anti-tout strategy was just totally ignoring anybody who approached me in English. It worked very well I think it's because if you don't say anything, they don't know what language to continue their pitch in. Their last resort in this case is to call you "racist against the Moroccan people" for ignoring them. The first time I heard this, I broke down and laughed out loud! Next morning I took the ferry across into Spain. I arrived around noon, and walked into a travel agency in the port to buy a bus ticket to Paris. The guy who speaks English suggests, "Why not fly there? There's a flight from Malaga leaving at 16:25 that you can make if you take the next bus which leaves at 13:00." I believed his advice, bought the 120 Euro ticket and followed his bus instructions exactly. I guess he didn't know that the bus to Malaga takes 3 hours because it stops at every little town on the way. By the time I got to the airport, it was 16:20 and check-in was closed. First the airline girl told me to call the travel agent whose name was written on the ticket but first I had to call 411 (11818 in Spain) to get their number but the operator didn't speak english so I had to politely ask the British Airways lady to do this for me. When I finally had the agents number, I could not reach the actual guy who sold me the ticket so they were unsympathetic because it was *my* fault for missing the flight. Then I went back to the airline office, but it was closed between 18:00-19:00 for no reason in particular. Finally they were open again, but the only time I could change it to was Sunday, which would leave me only 12 nighttime-hours in Paris. This really sucked but I had no choice but to wait around the south of Spain until Sunday because I don't have enough money left to buy another bus/plane ticket and food/hostels for four days. I reluctantly made the change (which was free, happily) and turned to the Malaga chapter in my LP Spain. That night I stayed at the HI hostel in Malaga and hung out a bit with a Saskatchewan girl who was taking a break from the army (!) to live the Tim Horton's commercial dream. This morning I took the bus to Granada, which is where I'm staying tonight. Tomorrow I might go to Gilbralter.

I'm now in Marrakesh after a slightly hellish bus ride here. I waited all day in Er-Rachidia for the bus, and as soon as we left I was surprised to notice that we were heading north rather than west like I expected! I was already annoyed because the ticket price increased by a 10DH commission between the time I inquired about it (alone) and actually bought it (accompanied by bus station "friends"), and now I thought they had put me on a bus to Fes or some awful place just for kicks! The final event that almost made me explode with hatred for the country was when the bus just stopped for no reason in the middle of frigid suburban nowhere for over an hour! Instead of having an unproductive mental breakdown right there and then, I decided to just get back on the bus, put in my earplugs and ignore the situation away. I guess it kind of worked because at 6 this morning (12 hours later!) I woke up at the Marrakesh bus station, cramped from the uncomfortable ride but otherwise alive and sane. I'm staying at Hotel Ali, recommended by Matt and Nat, which is right beside the main Medina square. The first time I saw it in the light of day this morning I was stunned by the number of tourists here. Maybe I'll leave soon and spend the extra day somewhere cool like Gibralter. Here's a little observation about Morocco: There is a strong correlation between the quality of a street aquantance's English and the probability that he will eventually try to hustle you. The only reason to speak English here if you deal with tourists, which means you already see them as walking bags of money. P.S. My H1-B visa application was approved and should be waiting for me in a FedEx envelope at 161 Erb.

Wow ... back to civilization. As you may have inferred from the recent lack of posting, I have been away from internet access for the last couple days. On Friday, our goal was the dunes of Merzouga. We left Azrou in the morning by bus, but for some reason there was no bus. Instead of a bus that day, the bus company was running a painter's work van south. We sat ON THE FLOOR of this van packed with EIGHTEEN PEOPLE for the 5-6 hour drive to Er-Rachida, all for no reduction in the usual bus fare of 65Dh. It really was hell because once you sit down, your legs fall asleep and it's impossible to re-adjust due to the number of people sitting around (and on top of) you. Also one woman got sick from the up and down of the mountain road and was discretely puking into a plastic bag behind her veil. At the first rest stop, I had enough of sitting on the floor so I bought an empty crate (30Dh) from a fruit vendor for use as a bench. From then on, I was riding high -- It was really my finest hour. The other funny thing is that we kept getting stopped by cops, like at least half a dozen times along the way. The cops are just standing there in the highway into or out from a city and every time they would wave us over to the shoulder. The driver kept a wad of bills on the dash to pay these guys off with, I guess it was because there were too many people in the van or something. When we finally arrived, instead of stopping at the bus station as per usual, we just pulled into an alley on the other side of town just to avoid the cops!According to the driver, all this hassle was because of us three! I guess tourists aren't allowed to travel this way. But we weren't at our destination yet. We met these two guys who allegedly work at a hotel in Merzouga and shared a taxi collectif to Rissani, where the hotel 4x4 drove us off road to the hotel. We hadn't picked out a place to stay there yet, but it was convenient to just give in and stay at their place. The reason is this: if you look at the LP map of Merzouga, you see the usual cluster of hotels on the town's main road. But, the scale of the map is about 1 inch == 20km! In fact, the hotels are in the middle of the black desert and about a 20 minute walk from one to the other! Since it was already dark, we just checked in. The nice thing about this hotel topography (if you're the hotel owner) is that you can charge whatever you want for food and water because you're customers are stuck there in the desert and cannot buy these essentials anywhere else. The basic price for accomodation (the number printed in the LP) is very low -- 20/30 per night to sleep in the tents/a room, but the food is very expensive. Where they really make their money though is the camel excursions into the desert. We decided to do one the night we arrived, before realizing that the dunes were only a 15 minute walk away. All the hotels and the town itself is located on the black desert, which is flat and rocky and sprinkled with a heavy layer of black sand, hence the name. But the reason tourists come here is for the fabulous dunes. The night we arrived, we didn't realize that the black mountains we saw in the moonlight were actually made of sand. They're exactly like what you expect the "real" desert to look like from the movies -- huge dunes hundreds of meters high made of fine sand, with a rippled texture like in the shallow shore at a beach. And the movie connection is not a coincidence because they film many movies here, most famously The Mummy. Anyway, the next afternoon we left on our very expensive camel ride/desert camping trip. The camels are pretty cool, but it really hurts your ass to ride them despite the mountains of blankets they pile on as a saddle. You hop on while the camel is kneeling, then you're bucked first way forward then backwards as it unfolds its legs to stand up. The camels made a lot of gurgling and belching sounds, as if they were filled to their throat with water. You could hear it sloshing around inside as we slowly walked along. We arrived at the camp site in time for the sunset, and climbed to a high dune for the best view. Walking in the sand is hard but interesting. If you have sandles on and are walking flat you can avoid sinking in, but otherwise each step is a big effort. Also, by the end of the day, the sand is really hot on one side of a ridge but cool on the other. In the early morning, walking barefoot up the dunes is painful because the sand is so cold. Finally, if your walking disturbs the top of a ridge enough, a huge sheet of sand will start to slide making a really cool sound. For dinner we had the best meat tagine so far on the trip. It's funny because we also had the best couscous on our Rif trek. The best food seems to be cooked outdoors by your guide. In comparison, the restaurant food is crap. After dinner, we sat around listening to our guide tell bad jokes, which was quite hard because of his difficulties with English and French. Abdul was a Bedouin, had just turned 20, had never been to school, couldn't read or write, had never travelled beyond Rissani (40km away) and had learned all his French and English from working with tourists. During the summer, when there are no tourists because of the heat, he works digging up the fossils that everyone tries to sell you around here. He also said he has a girlfriend in Austrailia that his father won't let him marry because she isn't a Bedouin. In the morning we got up early for the sunrise, and we were supposed to try sandboarding down the dunes but none of us could try it because we didn't have the boots. So we just headed back again on the camels who had just been sitting there in the exact same position all night long, making their grumbling noises. (They tell the tourists that the coughing and rumbling sounds are from smoking too many Camels har har har) We wanted to leave as soon as we got back to the hotel but it was impossible because of the (Aid El Kabir?) holiday. Every family slits the throat of a sheep and spends the day (and possible the next, and the next) eating it. So the hotel was deserted because all the staff had gone home to their families and even if we could get back to Rissani, no busses would be running. To pass the time, I read my friend's copy of On the Road, the quintessential travel book. This, along with swatting at flies, playing with the many cats and eating more bread than I have in my whole life up to this point, took pretty much all day. Today at 8am we finally got out of there by 4x4. I should have offered the guy $20 to let me drive across the desert because it looked pretty fun. From Rissani, we took a minibus to Erfoud, and from there I squeezed into a group of Australians' taxi collectif to Er-Rachidia where I would have a better chance of finding a bus to Marrakesh. So that where I am now, alone again because my friends aren't in such a rush as I am and will catch the slow bus from Erfoud. It's really weird how you can travel with people for so long, then just leave them with a blink of an eye decision. Hopefully I'll hear from them by email since I want a couple pictures they were nice enough to take of me. The plan from here is Marrakesh bus at 6, then Rabat, then back to Spain and bus it to Paris where I'll spend whatever time is left.