Stories from the coast

It is our last night on the coast when we start planning our way back. Twin asks the funniest kid of Essaouira about time tables. This is what we get as a response:

''Oh, you can go anytime you like, twice a day!'' Then he goes on saying there is one bus at seven and one at three and one at five, but maybe nothing at three. Got it? Thought so.

It is also somewhere between the last mouthfulls of the dinner and the talk about how we must go out with the funniest kid and his friends that Junior comes up with something. He puts down his fork, lifts his head and looks at me and Twin, who's half asleep, her legs hanging over the Kiwi. ''So.. It is in Morocco that I could actually marry both of you, right?''

You know the rest. Can't. Stop. Laughing.