Trevor Noah Learns The Hard Way That Joking About Jews Is Strictly Verboten
In the late '60s, when I visited Morocco for the first time, most travelers avoided the Rif Mountains of the north. People arriving by boat in Tangier from Spain usually either stayed put or headed south to Fez and Marrakech. Instead, my girlfriend, Martha, and I took a ferry from Spain to Ceuta, a tiny Spanish colony on the Moroccan coast, and headed in the opposite direction from all the other tourists. We went to the blue city of Chefchaouen, the gateway to the Rif badlands.
