Snake necklace

Back in Belfast after leaving Marrakesh early this morning. I have a horrible itchy red rash around my neck. This may or may not be an allergic reaction to the snake I had draped around my neck while I was walking in the Place Djemaa al Fna. Having been stupidly attracted towards a crowd of people who were watching a snake charmer, I watched a Moroccan gentleman ambush the boyfriend with a snake. I watched in amusement as he jumped backwards away from the obvious tourist trap...only to be lassoed by the same snake...

The Moroccan gentleman kept trying to tell me not to be afraid, that the snake was not poisonous, and that it would not harm me as it writhed tighter around my neck. I was not even the slightest bit scared. To be honest, all I could think about, after 12 days in Morocco was 'How much will this cost me?'

As the gentleman reassured me that I wasn't going to die, he tried to encourage the boyfriend to photograph me. This was not a winning strategy. Upon realising we weren't about to give away any money, he rapidly whipped the snake off me and moved to the next victim.

And now I have a horrible red itchy rash right around my neck. Although this could also have come from any one of a number of strange experiences in Morocco...

One of the problems I find with being Horribly White is that even after 2 weeks somewhere Rather Hot I remain Horribly White. Which means that I get treated like I'm gullible day one tourist long long long after my goodwill has been exhausted...day 12 in Marrakesh and although my skin still gleams like a freshly-washed corpse, my soul is much darkened with exposure to too many 'Special price for Beautiful Bag for English Lady'

I find it just a little bit irritating that when the boyfriend got bitten by an insect in Morocco, he got bitten just once. Then his arm swelled up spectacularly, and he tried a variety of creams and cures until he had to visit the doctor, get an antibiotic and a bandage.

I, on the other hand, got bitten repeatedly by lots of creatures. All my bites swelled up too, but much less dramatically. I did not require antibiotics or a bandage. I just looked sad and bitten. And sort of lumpy. Sigh.

I also find it irritating that I got a cold surfing in Morocco. Ok so the hired wetsuit was massive, and I should've really had the good sense to realise that when I was shivering with cold and couldn't stop my teeth from chattering, I was probably freezing cold, even thought there were camels on the beach and roasted-red Europeans sweating in the sands.

In Ireland I would've taken myself off to the nearest pub and had a hot whiskey or 5 to sort me out. In Morocco I had a mint tea, which, while refreshing, did not do the trick...

Listen to me complain...wouldn't you think I'd be writing all about the fuss and hustle in old Medina in Fez, the smoky, bustling souk in Meknes, the lazy river I swam across near the boyfriend's family's place, the Roman ruins of Volubilis, the hair-raising driving experiences in rush-hour Rabat...the sand-sea-water-sun mysticism of the Hassan II mosque in Casablanca?

Unfortunately, when tired out and itchy, I find it easier to write about my rashes ;)