The room is small: one single bed and one double. The walls don't reach all the way to the ceiling. One naked bulb hangs high on the wall.
There's no sink. There's a bucket and a tap next to toilet. Here I wash my face, my clothes, brush my teeth. Only after this dubious attempt to get clean do I find there's a natural spring piped into the lobby of the guest house. This is a better place to wash. I can take a hot shower here for 5dh (a bargain, by Tangier's 10dh standards) All the rooms surround a balcony overlooking the lobby, with a few potted plants in the centre of the floor.
While looking for his lighter, Abdullah finds a box of matches hidden high under one of the room's arches. Inside is a small ball of hashish wrapped in paper. Abdullah says we'll give it to the guest house owner- he's never seen without a pipe in his mouth.
I found a sink. It doesn't work. While Abdullah is talking to the owner of the guest house about the hijra, he is told Tetouan isn't the place to cross. Go by bus to Martel, it's a small village not far from here, it's easier to find boats there. In Tetouan, we're told, you might find people who cross you- take your money and leave you or ferry you half way across the straits and dump you, tell you to swim for Spain.
