Terribly Flat

So this came about a few years ago. It was the last holiday Emma and I took together before she died; we'd gone to Morocco on one of those all-inclusive resort things, but got bored and decided to go off on our own for a while. We hired a car (and that's a story that must be told at some time) and headed off over the Atlas Mountains from Agadir to Marrakech, during which journey Em told me about her eccentrically-dressed and flamboyantly gay client Daniel. As she filled me in about this corduroy-and-high-heels-wearing friend of hers, the radio, which until then had been playing undistinguished Arabic pop, suddenly started blaring out, in English, There Are Bad Times Just Around The Corner by Noel Coward (there seems to be no umlaut available, for which omission I apologise both to you and to The Master). 

The following is what we wrote during the drive. 

The North Africa Song

It is 1932. In an intimate nightclub somewhere in New York, or perhaps on an ocean liner at full steam in mid-Atlantic, the bright young things sip Manhattans and Sidecars while pop-eyed waiters bring trays of fried oysters. Into the spotlight steps a tall figure in white tie, hair slicked back to accentuate his aquiline profile. He smiles tightly at the audience, sits at the immaculately polished Bechstein grand, runs off an introductory glissando and, in a perfect clipped English voice, begins…

We have a friend called Daniel

He’s going to Maroc

To see the sights but mostly ‘cause

He likes a bit of cock.

And so we’ve done some research

To help him out, and then

Dan can go off travelling

And shagging other men…

We strongly recommend to you the old bazaar in Cairo

For just a couple of pounds they’ll do

Unspeakable things with a Biro

Your dear old mother’s mother, please don’t take her to Sudan

They’re all gerontophiliacs

Gagging for shagging your nan

Take the train to Marrakech if you’re fond of anal sex

But if the locals catch you at it

Then they’ll happily wring your necks

Please try to smile although the Nile’s quite boring and banal

You’re sure to find a chap who’ll take you

Right up the Suez Canal – ooh!

It’s a joy to take a train to Casablanca

You can easily find a rentboy who will wank – ya – off!

But in Tangiers

They frown on ginger beers

The very concept makes them quake and quail

And if you go to Agadir

Be careful if you’re queer

‘cause they’ll throw your arse in jail

(Though you might like that)

Throw your arse in jaiiiill!