How To Lose a Guy in 36 Days

Hello,
I write this post, for the first time, with no companion, other than all of you of course. Yesterday, after a final late morning coffee, Jack headed to the Marrakesh train station and departed for Casablanca.  This morning, he boarded a flight for Frankfort, from where he will head down to Namibia for his elephant conservation program.  If he is able, he is going to email an update at some point, which I will post to this blog.
After Jack's departure, I had six hours to kill in Marrakesh, so I did my best to walk as far from the djemma alfna as possible.  I saw some quieter residential areas, and finally looped my way back to the Bahia Palace, which was one of the royal palaces of the sultan several hundred years ago.  It was enormous, and rather impressive, but it is pretty horribly maintained.  Litter and graffitti are everywhere, but one could still appreciate the majesty of the place.  After lunch, I read in a cafe for a while, before a man named Abdul attempted to convert me to Islam.  I told him I wasn't religious, and he told me that a man who believes in nothing is nothing, and that I could never fall in love.  I tried to explain that not being religious is hardly the same thing as believing in nothing, but the laguage barrier was too great for that distinction apparently.  I didn't even attempt to make a reference to the nihlists, who truly believes in nassing.
Around 730 I made my way to the train station for my overnight passage to Tangier.  I had booked what was called a sleeping berth, so I was expecting a flat surface of some kind.  However, I was soon to learn that, in fact, the sleeping berth was merely a more comfortable chair in a three facing three compartment.  However, this chair could be extended to accomodate around two thirds of my body length, but this was hardly practical with the entire compartment filled.  Fortunately, it emptied out a bit, and I was eventually able to grab a few hours sleep.  I spent a forgettable hour in Tangier securing a ferry ticket, before making the crossing to Tarifa.  Tarifa is a small coastal town about three hours from Malaga. I got a bed at a hostal called Melting Pot, which is very clean and seems pleasant enough.  I'm pretty exhausted, so its going to be a chill day, and tomorrow I will get a chance to look around the town.
That pretty much catches up on our comings and goings, so now a few thoughts on Morocco.  Jack and I found it to be very pleasant, especially the people.  However, one cannot walk down the street without being offered hash or pestered to look into a store or something of that nature.  I found that a smile and a no thanks worked much better to shed these solicitations than feigned deafness.  I could certainly see it being uncomfortable for women, not due to any real danger, but being surrounded by extremely aggressive men would become quite bothersome I imagine.  Its worth noting that at no point during my stay there did I feel at all unsafe, or even truly uneasy.  It is a diverse and welcoming country I would strongly recommend visiting.
The following awards are in my opinion, I expect Jack would differ on some.  Best Lodging: Riad les Jardines, Marrakesh.  Best Tajine: Hamadi's, Tangier.  Best Street Food: Fes.  Best Coffee: Cafe Continental, Tangier.  Best Tea: Too many to remember.  Coolest Person Met: The waiter at Thami's, Fes.  Creepiest Offer of Friendship: Omar, from the hotel bar, Chefchaouen.  Best Shower: Riad les Jardines, Marrakesh.  Lamest Drug Dealer: Norman, Chefchaouen.  Best Medina: Fes.  Best Specific Place: Djemma alfna, Marrakesh.
A little on my plans: Monday, I head to Malaga, where I'll spend two days, before flying to Dublin.  I will then be spending the next ten days with me own mother, in the country side of Ireland, Dublin and London.  Then its back on home.
One last note before I head off: I was feeling pretty  down walking from the Riad to get a cab last night, being alone for the first time in over a month was pretty.  In a word, I was lonely.  But as I walked down the street, perhaps a dozen shopkeepers, seeing my large rucksack, wished me bon voyage, or in one instance, Happy Tripping.  I had spent the last four days ignoring their sales pitches, such was the extent of my interaction with these individuals up that point, but their well wishes were entirely genuine and quite heart warming.  It was a great reminder that, even though its going to be hard traveling without Jack, I'm certainly not alone.
lots of love and thanks for reading
luke