Rain

Halloween Juice and Angry Ketchup Packets: Voyage to the Center (sort of) of Ifrane

VI5

My Tuesday started out rough. After barely sleeping the previous night, feeling sad to leave my Rabat friends and internship, and giving up my Embassy-issued phone, I spent an hour at the train station waiting for No. 117 to Fes.

Once it arrives, I cram my two suitcases and a backpack full of pantry food into a six-person compartment.

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