Jono and I went to a service at the St Andrews Church in Tangier one day.
After church Jono and I drank cold water in plastic cups and fell in with the vicar and a scraggy cheerful and colourful group of Mauritanians. The vicar was a friendly bon viveur of the colonial type and a terrible snob, who was quick to tell people that he was – at that time – the Queen’s personal vicar. He was also quick to make a few comments about our Muslim brethren:
“Watch you purse, and yourself. These people will latch onto you and you’ll never get rid of them..they come triapising all the way up here from Mauritania and try to get on boats across to Spain, only to be turned away by the Moroccan police and sent packing down south again. Then they come back up a few days later. Some of them come to church because they know there’s a bit of money here and some kind of social conscience.”
Out There & In Here 