Returning to past loves.
The second, chronologically, love of my life, second to surfing, was the Middle East. There was something dangerous, romantic, exotic, naughty about lands where Islam ruled and I craved it as a child and I ran to Egypt as soon as I could to study. In the years that followed I went everywhere lots. Syria, Lebanon, Yemen, Oman, United Arab Emirates, Jordan, Somalia (even though not Middle East) but then I just stopped. I don’t know why, exactly. Maybe it got too weird? Maybe to have the right kind of fun meant dying?
The last time Arabic tickled my ears was, anyhow, too long ago. Maybe 2010. It was, before ISIS and before the Arab Spring and before mass beheadings were totally du jour. It was also before weekly attacks in Europe and Je Suis Charlie. Or, not for me. I’ve always been Charlie, but for everyone else. It was before the “west” was officially at war with the entire region. Back when I studied and spent much time I would come home extolling the virtues of Islam. That it was misunderstood. That it was a viable alternative discourse. I don’t feel the same way anymore. ISIS has made it look like shit and the lack of any coherent opposition to that black hideousness is mind-bending.
Of course Morocco has not fallen on crazy times like Syria or even Egypt. It does not have an ISIS branch. It is not dangerous. For now, it is a relatively stable constitutional monarchy that gets along with Europe. Many surfers now go and I will surf too but mostly I’m just excited to hear Arabic again. And the call to prayer. Old loves die hard.
“the lack of any coherent opposition to that black hideousness is mind-bending” so true man. Mankind hasn’t changed much the last 10,000 years after all
You obviously don’t seem to care that the major criticism (which was totally justified) of your book was that rather than letting an interesting story shine you constantly pushed yourself into the narrative. So you are going to Morocco? GOOD ONYA MATE! What do you want from us? A medal?
If people were really criticizing the book for that then they clearly didn’t understand what they were reading. It was apparent from the start that it was going to be written gonzo style and that Chas would play a major part in the narrative. If your main criticism is too much authorial presence then you just don’t like the genre/style, which is fine, but don’t conflate dislike of a style with legitimate criticism of the work.
And I’m not sure what exactly you expected from this article. Beach Grit is mostly written by two people, Chas and Derek, and it’s written in a conversational tone with a lot of engagement with their readers. Rather than Chas doing something crass like bragging or looking for a medal, maybe, just maybe, he was letting us all know he would be returning to the Middle East and he was excited about it.
By all means, however, hate on playa, hate on.