Travel Report: WPT Marrakech, Day 3

Am writing this one on a plane, somewhere high above the Atlantic, a little over halfway through what will ultimately be about a 24-hour journey back home to the States from Marrakech, Morroco. Looking at four flights total today, the first two of which carried Elissa, Mickey, and me to Casablanca, then to Paris.

“Preflop and flop were okay,” I joked with them as together we wound our way through Charles de Gaulle airport. “Now we just gotta hold through the turn and river.” Mickey said something about the flop -- the flight to Paris -- not being ideal, and I cracked that at least we were still drawing live.

They both each had two more flights as well, and we had all been more than a little unsure how the first part of the trip would go. There had been floods in Casablanca and Rabat, causing casualties and (we had heard) shutting down the airport there. And heavy snow in Paris, too, making us unsure whether CDG would be fully operational. But we all made it through those stops without difficulty, and so the journey continues.

Yesterday’s final day of the World Poker Tour Main Event went relatively well, all things considered. Down to nine players and a final table, the tournament was relocated over to the Epicurean room, a not-terribly-large space located adjacent to a bar-slash-lounge right near the casino proper.

A crescent-shaped table with black felt sat in the center -- imagine a largish blackjack table -- with a couple of rows of seats arranged on all sides. Elissa pointed out the paintings of ladies and other ornamentation on the walls, noting that the place perhaps more resembled a bordello than a poker room. But it was certainly functional. There was a flop camera and a couple of television screens in the corners, and all in all the arrangement was such that anyone in the room could see the action from pretty much any spot.

We got there early and took seats in one of the front rows -- just a few feet from the table -- where we had access to power for our laptops. A few other media also set up in the room itself, although many chose to take tables out in the lounge and walk back and forth instead. We found a wireless connection without difficulty prior to the first hand being dealt, and settled in for what initially appeared as though it would be a fairly painless day of reporting.

Such was not to be the case, however, as the wireless immediately stopped working just as the final table began. It was completely out for an hour before it was restored, then went out again shortly after that. We essentially resigned ourselves to writing up several posts at a time, then taking turns running back over closer to the larger poker room where the first two days had been played and from which we could access the internet. Kind of a long, winding walk to and from -- and through the smoky, crowded casino -- which definitely made the day a bit more arduous than we’d hoped it would be.

Our brains were further challenged by the names at this final table. First off, there were two Guillaumes sitting next to each other, then a Sebastian and a Sebastien (with an “e”), also side-by-side and sitting next to them. That group provided a bit of a challenge to WPT Executive Tournament Director Matt Savage who announced the final table. And among the last names we had a Willamsson, a Labuissiere, an Oberauer, and a Nitsche. (My fellow reporters will sympathize with me here.)

But we managed well enough. The final table itself went relatively quickly, with one player -- Sebastian Homann of Germany -- essentially running over the other eight to win the sucker. He’d entered the final table first in chips, then knocked out three of the first four to have more than three-quarters of the total chips with five left. At heads-up his opponent, Guillaume Cescut of France, actually fought back to take the lead briefly, but Homann soon retook the advantage and finished him off.

It was still early evening when we finished, so we ended up at the restaurant at the hotel located adjacent to Casino de Marrakech where we enjoyed one last terrific meal in Morocco. After having fun with some of the English translations on the menu -- the most alarming-sounding being “Cake of brain to tarragon” -- Mickey settled on the salmon while Elissa and I split an especially tasty rack of lamb.

We got back to the hotel by ten o’clock or so, but were already eyeing the clock and calculating how we’d have to leave by 3:30 a.m. to catch our pre-dawn first flight. And, of course, we had those worries about whether airports would be open to keep us from sleeping soundly the few hours we had left to do so. But I did manage to sleep a solid four hours and as I say as it has turned out the hand we’ve been dealt for the journey home has gone just fine up to now.

I wasn’t that anxious, anyway, to be honest. These last couple of days, I’ve been thinking about that Alfred Hitchcock film The Man Who Knew Too Much -- not the first one (from 1934, I think), but the remake he did in 1956 with James Stewart and Doris Day. In that one, an American family goes to Morocco and unwittingly gets involved in international intrigue right there in Casablanca and Marrakesh.

It’s been awhile since I’ve seen it, and now I definitely want to check it out again. Doris Day’s Oscar-award winning song comes up somewhere in there -- “Que Sera, Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be).” Like that Crosby, Stills & Nash song I was referring to a week ago, “Que Sera, Sera” is also one of those especially memorable melodies that kind of sticks with you.

Kind of lullaby-like, even soothing. And I’m realizing the whole “the future’s not ours to see” theme of the song kind of settles one down, too. The internet might stop working, making it hard to do the job you’ve been assigned. Flights might get cancelled or delayed. But like the cards dealt in a hand of hold’em, those things are out of our control. And therefore not worth our fretting over them too much.

Okay, gonna try to rest my peepers a little. Still a long way to go. Might try to post this one during my final layover, if I have access.

If not, no worries, right?

(P.S. Some incredible run good has gotten me home as scheduled. Time shleepy Shamus went to bed.)

Travel Report: WPT Marrakech, Day 2

Managed to secure nearly five hours of sleep prior to yesterday’s Day 2 of the Main Event of the World Poker Tour Marrakesh presented by Chilipoker. More than twice what I’d had each of the previous two nights, and so it felt positively luxurious to roll out of bed around 11 a.m. Sure, I missed breakfast -- and, most crucially, coffee -- in order to get the extra winks. But it was necessary.

Had to get over to the Casino de Marrakech an hour earlier yesterday, and so shortly after noon Mickey, Elissa, and I set out on foot to our destination, the wind whipping alarmingly hard as we went. Got there in good shape, though, and soon we were settled in for another day of reporting.

As the field shrunk, Mickey increasingly took on field reporter duties, keeping track of bustouts, seat changes, and chip counts (all of which Mickey does so well) while Elissa and I mostly stuck to blogging. That meant getting to sit a little more than the previous two days, when all three of us were on our feet constantly. I was glad for the change, especially given all the walking I had done yesterday morning prior to the long day at the tourney.

Matthew Parvis of PokerNews -- stopping through on his travels to and from the many other events happening these days -- spent some of the day with us yesterday, and so it was good to touch base with him. I also got to meet Tatjana Pasalic, a.k.a. “Tattytats,” who seemed friendly and funny. (You might remember Tatjana from her interview of Kevmath a couple of months back.) And Jesse May (author of the great poker novel, Shut Up and Deal) stopped by as well, and I enjoyed talking with him once again about his travels, his podcast, and poker writing, generally speaking.

They ended up only playing ten one-hour levels yesterday (we’d originally heard it would be 12), which meant we were able to get back to the hotel around 2 a.m. rather than 4-4:30 a.m. as had been the case previously. Began with 82 players and just nine made it to today’s final day of play.

Wasn’t an overly remarkable day, poker-wise, but a few stories have emerged over the course of the tourney. None of the “name” pros made it to the final 27 and the cash. A couple of local players did. Roger Hairabedian -- known as “Big Roger” (because he is quite large) -- finished 23rd. And Majid Chiboub finished 20th, a boisterous, good-natured fellow whom absolutely everyone at the casino knew (just as “Majid”).

A famous French rap star played in the event, a fellow named Bruno Lopes who goes by “Kool Shen.” He fronts the group NTM, which if you look it up online you’ll discover stands for something not too nice about your mother. Lopes is about my age, actually. His age, coupled with the fact that he appeared very steady and unemotional throughout the tourney, made it seem funny to imagine him onstage delivering an aggressive rap as I am imagining from the group’s name he must do. Will have to check out some NTM, I think, after I return. Lopes finished 15th.

The other interesting story yesterday concerned a young German player named Dominik Nitsche whom reporters have gotten to know quickly from some of the other tours outside the States. Guy is only like 19 or 20 I believe. Yesterday Nitsche was down under 5,000 chips with about 60 players left. Then he doubled up three times, but even then still had something less than a third an average stack. He doubled up a couple more times, though, then won a few more big pots, and by the early evening was the chip leader. He’ll be second in chips to start today’s final table.

I remember one big hand in there during his run -- right before dinner break, I think -- in which Nitsche knocked out yet another player, this time with pocket queens against his opponent’s A-Q. I was writing up the hand afterwards and realized I wasn’t quite sure how much his opponent had had to start the hand, so I asked him. He grinned and said at first “I don’t even know!” before coming up with a close estimate. It was kind of fun to see him excited like that about how things had been going for him over the previous couple of hours.

Really the mood in the poker room has been upbeat all week, with everyone -- players, staff, media -- seeming to enjoy themselves. I remember a similarly fun vibe at EPT Kyiv last summer. Sometimes the mood at WSOP events will also be light, but more often than not things are much more serious and tense, perhaps because of all the added stress and pressure (for everyone) surrounding the Series.

Today’s final table will be happening in a different location in the casino, so I’m not quite sure what the arrangement will be. I’m confident, though, that all will be well for those of us reporting on it, as we’ve been taken care of pretty well throughout. Between Matt Savage (who is the TD here for this one), the Chilipoker folks, and the Casino de Marrakech people, the whole event has been very well managed, in my opinion.

Spaceman commented yesterday about the big cash games going on in Marrakech, and indeed I have seen those running every day thus far, with David Benyamine always there in his seat at the end of the main table. It isn’t really feasible to go up and watch, and so I can’t offer further details of what is happening there. But I can confirm the games are ongoing, and there’s a lot of murmuring here and there regarding the high stakes and the fact that the games keep going around the clock.

Think I’ll go ahead and pack now and get ready to head back over. As I mentioned yesterday, we might be cutting things close as far as our flight out of here goes, as we are due to depart before dawn tomorrow. Hopefully the tourney finishes up at least a few hours before then, so we can make it okay. Also, we’re hearing there’s snow in Paris (where we have a connection), so who knows what sort of twists and turns await us as we try to make our way back homeward.

Head over to PokerNews today to see how this sucker plays out. And come back here to see how the trip home is going. Not sure if I’ll even be able to post tomorrow, given the schedule, but if I can get onlinle I’ll at least be on Twitter @hardboiledpoker with updates.

Travel Report: WPT Marrakech, Day 1b

Another busy one yesterday here in Marrakech.

I did manage to get to see the city some on Sunday morning before the tourney -- the main event of World Poker Tour Marrakech presented by Chilipoker -- got going again in the early afternoon.

Was kind of tough find a time in here to squeeze in the sightseeing. Essentially I had to choose against sleep to do so, getting only about three hours. But I managed to drag myself out of bed, further inspired by Vanda, a Portuguese blogger, who has been here for a week now and said she’d go with me and be a tour guide of sorts.

The walk to the city center was probably a mile or so, during which time we were offered rides in taxis probably 20 times or more by drivers yelling out of windows and men walking. There was a fellow who engaged us soon after we left the hotel, then we saw him again a half-hour later on a bike once we got to the marketplace. “Remember me?” he asked, and again seemed to want to offer us either a taxi ride or some other unspecified service. We were accosted a couple of other times, too, by beggars -- in one case a barefoot child, pointing to his feet as he spoke.

City streets gradually became surrounded by more and more greenery as we walked, with lots of olive trees about. As we approached the walled-in “souks” (the marketplace), we passed a large building of worship from which announcements come at each of the five times per day Muslims pray to Mecca, next to which was an area reserved for such.

Finally we made it inside the walls and to the huge city center where hundreds were already gathered early on a Sunday morning. We again were constantly approached, this time by women offering Vanda henna tattoos, others offering us both postcards and pictures, and more. There were a couple of gaily-dressed groups playing music, with some of their number either carrying snakes or dancing around them on the ground.

I didn’t take a picture of the snake charmers, as Vanda warned me they’d swarm upon me asking for money if I did. (Most of the photos I took with my phone came out so-so, but I’m going to get some of the ones Vanda took during the week with her better camera and might share a few of those here once I get back home.)

We walked through the large open area to the many stalls and shops arranged maze-like in the center. Literally hundreds of shops there, most of which weren’t quite open yet, although a few had and we did get to shop some.

I ended up buying a few items for people back home, in each case having to do a lot of negotiating with regard to price. Vanda had prepared me to expect this, and I think I did okay with my first purchase. “250,” said the young man, a kind of “seller’s agent” for the shop. “200?” I said. “Okay, 230,” he said. “200,” I repeated. “Okay, 200,” he conceded, making me wonder if I should have started lower.

As she would demonstrate at another stop, Vanda is quite good at the bargaining, and said some of the sellers had jokingly called her a “berbere” which I think refers to a desert dweller who is especially good at negotiating. I think these skills are kind of similar to some that are needed in poker, actually, although I’m too tired right now to pursue the analogy further than just to mention it.

Terms having been reached, the young man took me to an older man who recorded the sale in a ledger and took my dirhams while the young man wrapped up my items individually. For extra grins, the young man also dressed up Vanda in a silk scarf, making her appear like a Muslim woman.

We had something similar happen after another purchase, when the seller took several minutes showing us a “magic box” with a hidden key, perhaps hoping we’d buy it, too, but seemingly satisfied just to put on a little performance for us.

Eventually we left and made the long walk back. Vanda explained that later in the day there would be lots of food for sale, too, at relatively inexpensive prices. “You’d eat like a king!” she said.

Probably added up to a three or four mile walk by the time we returned to the hotel, and a short while later we were all back at the Casino de Marrakech for more poker.

Our days thus far are starting in the early afternoon and ending around 4 a.m. Players played 11 one-hour levels on the first two Day 1s, and I think the plan for today’s Day 2 is to play 12 levels with a hope to get from 82 down to a final table. One might say that while the tournament is technically a three-day event, it really is more like a four-day event that has been crammed into three. (A little bit of a bad beat for those of us getting paid by the day to work the sucker.)

After drawing 137 players on Saturday, there were just 85 who came out for the second Day 1. In fact, the start was delayed probably 40 minutes or so yesterday, I think in an effort to get more players registered. (Also making our day a little longer.) The overall total of 222 is down a lot from the 2009 WPT Marrakesh, which drew 416.

Various factors are likely to have affected the turnout, including the close proximity of EPT Barcelona and other events happening around the world here in late November. I think it is probably safe to say that having the tournament on Thanksgiving weekend made it a less inviting option to American players. In fact, I think there might have been only one or two in the entire field.

There were a few big names here yesterday, but pretty much all failed to survive the day. Ludovic Lacay, who final tabled this event last year, was one of the first eliminations yesterday. Carlos Mortensen went out relatively early, too. Liz Lieu, the most high-profile of tourney-sponsoring Chilipoker’s pros, busted, too.

David Benyamine showed up right at the end of Level 4 (just before registration closed) looking especially tired. Word was he’d been playing essentially nonstop in the lucrative cash games since his arrival, and he definitely appeared fatigued. He’d end up losing most of his stack in a big hand in which he held A-K, and was knocked out shortly thereafter after playing an hour or so.

Bertrand “ElkY” Grospellier was there as well, and as often happens in events in which he plays, he was probably the most fascinating figure in the room. He characteristically gambled it up early on, which didn’t go well for him. It was a tough table, with Thomas Bichon and Davidi Katai (both also quite aggressive) and a few others giving ElkY a hard time and playing back a lot.

Stuck on the short stack, Grospellier then turtled up and seemed to fold for a couple of hours straight. Was kind of weird, actually, as he had gotten down to less than ten big blinds, yet would continue to fold in spots where it seemed like he’d have to shove. For instance, I reported one hand in which Bichon raised, then Kitai reraised, and it folded to ElkY in the blinds. Kitai three-bet a lot yesterday, often quite light, so it was odd to watch when Grospellier folded his hand, and when he threw his cards to the dealer they flipped over to reveal he was folding . I actually saw him fold A-Q face up one other time during that sequence when he appeared short enough to jam any ace or pair.

Worked out for him, in a way, though, as he did find some spots to keep doubling and in fact looked like he was on his way to building an average stack near the end of the night. But then he lost almost all of it in a hand versus Kitai in which the latter made quads, and ElkY, too, would hit the rail before we were done for the night.

As I mentioned, there will be 82 players left when we come back today, and once again we’re bracing for another long one. We are starting to worry a little about our itenerary, actually, as we are scheduled to fly out of Marrakech very early on Wednesday morning, like 5:30 a.m. or something. That means if we have a long final table, and another day that lasts until 4 a.m. (or longer), we surely won’t be able to come back to the hotel, and might not even make our flight.

We’ll see how it all plays out, both in the tourney and for our journey back home. Check in over at PokerNews for reports on the former, and I’ll be back here this week to let you know about the latter.

Travel Report: WPT Marrakech, Day 1a

“Anyone who wants the results emailed to them, put your name and address on this list.”

So said Matt Savage, Executive Tournament Director of the World Poker Tour, to a group of media around three o’clock Sunday morning, holding up a sheet of white paper as he did.

“So you know who won already?” cracked some wiseacre in response. It might have been me.

Yes, we were still having fun, despite having at that point been at the Casino de Marrakech for 14 hours or so covering Day 1a of the WPT Marrakech event presented by Chilipoker. Was a long, long day, and perhaps seemed even longer given the still somewhat-fatigued state of your humble world traveler. Things went well overall, though, and we managed to chronicle quite a bit as the 137 players who began the day gradually whittled themselves down to just 51.

I should go back to the night before -- Friday -- and mention the enjoyable dinner we had. Mickey, Elissa, and I joined fellow bloggers Vanda, Ivan, some representatives of Chilipoker, and Matt and Maryann Savage for a fun, lengthy meal at a nearby restaurant.

I had couscous (natch), topped with a variety of tasty meats, with a fairly decadent toffee dessert and coffee to follow. We stuck around afterwards while a sequence of energetic bellydancers made their way through the room, moving with agility between the tables, a couple of whom especially impressed us by balancing elaborate arrangements of lit candles atop their heads while they danced.

There was a pre-tourney party afterwards at the club adjacent to the Casino de Marrakech, but by then I was going on something like 40 hours with only a brief, one-hour nap, and had to head back to the room for some shut-eye. Slept reasonably well -- aside from having to field a wrong number at 4:30 a.m. -- and was rested and ready to go by the time we headed back over to the casino for the start of Day 1a.

The casino is quite large, and the poker room big also, containing somewhere in the neighborhood of 40-45 tables. The tourney was set up on one side, with only 15 tables being used. The media room had been set up on the opposite side -- in fact, inside a tent-like structure attached outside of the poker room proper. While I believe PokerNews might be the only English media here, there is nevertheless quite a large contingent of reporters on hand, perhaps 30-35 reporters in all. That made things very tight inside the tent, with all of us jammed close together around the few tables.

The tourney began a short while after the scheduled 2 p.m. start time, and while we experienced a little trouble with maintaining internet connectivity, things seemed to be going well enough at the start. That’s when the rain and wind outside began to pick up, and soon the tent began to shake and rattle. Another huge gust whooshed through and suddenly it appeared as though the whole arrangement was about to crash down on top of us.

Within minutes we all quickly relocated inside the poker room, setting up on the far row of unused tables opposite the tourney. And that’s where we remained -- safe and dry -- for the rest of the day. (That picture is of the area where we had originally set up; there had been sheets enclosing the area, but they are no longer present here.)

As far as the event itself goes, we encountered a field consisting of a lot of French and Moroccan players, as well as a few from other European countries. At one point later in the day Matt Savage and I chatted about the fact that neither of us had spotted a single American in the field.

Unsurprisingly, then, there were not too many familiar faces to us among the 137 who began, with only Antoine Saout, Nicolas Levi, Alexandre Gomes, and a few others being recognizable to us as we began. Eventually we came to learn the names of a few dozen more, aided at times by our colleagues from other outlets, or in some cases by the players themselves.

As the tourney organizers’ quick response to the media tent situation demonstrated, we were taken care of quite well yesterday. There was finger food (pastries, bite-sized sandwhiches, bread) and drink supplied at every break, and a nice buffet for dinner, all available both to the players and the media. Helped us make it through the day, for sure.

Didn’t get back to the room until something like 4 a.m., then I ended up waking early this morning to go walk down to the city center and explore a bit. Will try to share details of that trip tomorrow.

Meanwhile, we’re close to getting started with Day 1b. We’re expecting a few more big names to show today, too, including Carlos Mortensen, David Benyamine, Ludovic Lacay, among others. Check over at PokerNews for details.

Travel Report: WPT Marrakech, Arrival

The skies were blue in northwestern Africa today. Saw a few clouds passing as though pushed by the light wind, but otherwise clear and calm. And perhaps a little fuzzy-looking, given the sleep-deprived state of your humble reporter.

The flights were all fine, though in the end the trip took a few hours longer than had been scheduled. The penultimate leg from JFK to Casablanca was the longest of the journey, taking close to eight hours. Had to smile a little when the stewardess came around with choices for my Thanksgiving dinner. “Fish or beef,” she said. I chose the one that sounded closer to turkey.

Am not complaining, though. While I didn’t get to enjoy the customary ritual of overstuffing myself to which we Americans are used to on the holiday, the in-flight meal -- a small salad with cucumber and tomato, a cold corn-and-shrimp dish with feta, beef tips, small potatoes, broccoli spears, carrot sticks, a hunk of cheddar, and some cheesecake topped off with hot tea -- was more than enough to satisfy.

Unfortunately for me, though, the meal did not succeed in putting me to sleep the way Thanksgiving dinners generally do, and so while my fellow travelers dozed I listened to tunes, resigning myself to continued consciousness. I almost never sleep well on planes, anyhow, and so can’t say I expected anything different.

It was still dark out when we finally touched down in Casablanca, although dawn was close. Elissa (a.k.a., ebhizzle) joined me in New York, and we were guided along with the rest of the passengers from the plane, across the tarmac, and inside the airport.

From there we were pretty much on our own, as once we made our way down the initial hallway all signs of airport personnel vanished. The signs were in Arabic and French, and having enough of the latter to have a little bit of a clue, I was able to help us choose correctly at the first uncertain crossroad. Eventually we found someone to give us a verbal directive, and an uncertain half-dozen turns we came upon a lobby-like room that sort of resembled a terminal.

There we found a television screen indicating our final flight, and parked it expecting a short wait before continuing on to Marrakech. Alas, we’d end up watching the sun rise and day get well underway, our flight delayed more than two hours. There was no explanation, but others indicated such is the norm.

By the time we made it to Marrakech, picked up Elissa’s checked bag (against her well-formed expectations that it would not make the trip with us), and got some local currency into our pockets, it was nearing lunchtime. Took a taxi to the hotel, our aggressive driver dangerously sharing the road with numerous pedestrians, mopeds, horse-drawn carriages, and even a few camels (which caught me off-guard, camera-wise, or you woulda seen ’em here, too).

Checked in without too much fuss, noting some poker people about (players and media). Then also noting we were both going on 24 hours or so of journeying, it was agreed that naps were in order. The third member of our reporting team, the venerable Mickey (1-2-3!), made it a couple of hours after we did, and the plan will be for us all to rest up some more before heading out for dinner and perhaps a bit of exploring tonight.

Not much to report thus far, then. Hearing French, seeing Euros being passed, and a few other quirks of public transportation together evoke early comparisons with other European locales, but we’ll see how far that line of thinking goes as the next few days progress. More to come.

Globetrottin’ Gumshoe

Airport terminals and planes will be serving as my office today. And tomorrow as well, I guess. That’s because for the next 20 hours or so I’ll be winding my way to Marrakech, Morocco where I’ll be helping cover the WPT Marrakech tournament scheduled for Saturday through Tuesday.

Made it through airport security this morning with surprisingly little fanfare. No body scan. No touching of the junk. No request to remove my prosthetic limb. (Just kidding.) I also managed to keep my pants on the entire time, something I occasionally have had trouble with when traveling before.

Came to the airport much earlier than necessary, in fact, and so I have a couple of hours of sitting around before my first flight takes off. There are a number of folks milling about, though not too many. A few families. A basketball team heading to a holiday tourney. Much fewer, though, than were traveling yesterday, I would imagine. Most folks have already arrived at their Thanksgiving-day destinations, presently readying for a long day of feasting and football.

I suppose I have done enough of this traveling thing (and tourney-reporting thing) by now for the novelty to have worn off a little. Not as much as some of my reporter buddies, of course, the full-timers who do this stuff year-round. But enough to have developed a set of expectations -- for the wide-eyed innocence to have worn off just a bit.

Even so, I’ll admit to feeling a little of that familiar mix of anxiety and excitement, particularly given the fact that I’m heading to a new country. (Heck, a new continent!) And really, every poker tournament necessarily is going to offer something unique or unexpected. Part of the reason why people keep playing ’em, I suppose. A brand new starting stack. Possibility. Promise. Something to play for.

Am certainly thankful for the opportunity to take another of these trips. And hopeful I’ll be able to share a little of the experience here over the next few days.

Am thankful, as well, for your stopping by Hard-Boiled Poker. Enjoy the day. Talk to you next from the Kingdom of Morocco.

All Aboard: Marrakech Bound

Am a little distracted today, I must admit. That’s because about this time tomorrow I’ll be at the airport, having likely just endured an uncomfortably intimate security check, about to board the first of three different flights, the last of which will not be landing until sometime Friday morning.

Where am I heading? Marrakech, Morocco. Gonna be helping cover the WPT event there for PokerNews.

This’ll be the second year for WPT Marrakech, an event that is also sponsored by Chilipoker (a non-U.S.-facing site). The main event sports a €4,250+€750 buy-in, a price that also includes accommodations and meals for the players.

Last year there were 416 entered in the event. I’m hearing there will be a number of big names making the trip (mostly from Europe) this time around, too. And Matt Savage, the WPT’s Executive Tour Director, will be on hand as well to oversee the sucker.

Obviously not ideal to be traveling on Thanksgiving, although Vera and I had already postponed the family stuff to December, and so the trip didn’t really conflict with anything major.

Of Marrakech -- a.k.a. the “Red City” -- I know very little. Arabic is the official language, although I imagine I’ll hear some French, too -- the one foreign language I have a shot at understanding.

Casablanca is nearby, of course. (Recognize that still pictured above?) And there’s that happy little Crosby, Stills & Nash song, “Marrakesh Express,” that describes a train trip from Casablanca.

You know that song... “All abo-o-o-o-oard, the tra-a-a-a-in.” Kind of sounds like a train chugging along, actually. With a whimsical, high-pitched melody flying along over the top that sounds like some sort of exotic stringed instrument, though I read somewhere is actually an organ. I think some of the lyrics might refer to a big marketplace for which the city is famous, though to be honest I’m not really sure.

In any case, I expect to learn a lot more about Marrakech and Morocco over the next week. Am hoping to send along a few trip reports here as it goes, but as always that will depend on how connected I turn out to be.

Meanwhile, I will probably post something from an airport tomorrow. Provided, of course, I make it through security without being too traumatized.