Feeling the heat

I was grumbling last December that Paris was the coldest place I had ever been in my life. Well, as we got off the plane at 6.30pm on Wednesday it felt like Marrakesh was definitely one of the hottest. It was 44 degrees and stepping on to the tarmac at Marrakesh airport felt like walking in to a giant hairdryer.
Arriving in Essaouira yesterday morning it was notably cooler, a mere 32 degrees and a pleasant wind blowing in from the Atlantic. More about the festival next time, but one thing is immediately clear from the size of the audience watching Justin Adams at last night’s opening session is that the crowds have increased dramatically in the three years since we were here last. At times it was almost uncomfortable, but… there are worse places to be, as Richard McKenzie would no doubt confirm. OK, we were never going to do well in Henley, but this result is a shocker, finishing behind the fascists!
I haven’t joined the ‘Brown must go’ hysteria because I think the problems are deeper than just the Leader, and in any event I was so relieved to see the back of Blair. I doubt now if something radical can be done that will turn around the mood of the electorate or the media, and unless Cameron cocks up big style we are probably going to get a dose of Tory government. So, I’ll head off to watch the young things windsurfing, and leave you a clip to remind you all what the future may be like: