Taza

I camped in another olive grove last night, just 30 meters from the train tracks. The engineer must be getting used to seeing my tent. When I packed up at 7:30 in the morning, a farmer was ploughing in the grove with his donkey, and the family was helping him. We wished each other peace as I hiked out of the grove.
After I'd got down the road  a bit, a man named Mohammed and his son, Idil, pulled over to help me out with a contribution and to wish me well, 'for peace and humanity'. Idil caught up with me again a few hours later in Taza, contributing even more. Thank you, friends.
Just before I reached Taza, a journalist pulled over to 'interview' me. He spoke French, and I answered anyway I could, in no language in particular. I don't know if I'll be on the local news (www.ajialpress.com) but it's nice to know a journalist was interested in the pilgrimage.
I'm now in Taza, splurging on a 9 euro hotel room with a shower and hot water, and I've just eaten a nice tajine. I couldn't be happier.