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My first (and only) time was when camping.
>Hiking near some place called Paradise Valley in Morocco, pic related
>I am getting severely dehydrated; locals get all their water from the river but I can't bring myself to drink it even boiled and iodined, because of all the household waste people dump into it, fish heads and suchlike
>In the middle of nowhere I come across an insane asylum with the inmates wandering around the palm trees, eyeing me hungrily. The fuck is this.
>Suddenly, hear distinct sound of bongos being played. Faint sound of guitar, too
>Trace the sound to a clump of thick date palms, bushwhack through until I reach a grassy clearing
>Big fat Moroccoan guy is playing the bongos while a dude in a dread sack strums a catgut guitar; they've got the biggest goddamn smiles on their faces, a big pot with soup boiling over an open fire, and are passing a hashish joint (correct term for rolled hash?) between them.
>They act like they've been expecting me, greeting me like a friend. Between French and Spanish we can communicate a little
>They feed me soup and I share what food I have left
>Birds singing, sun shining through the palm fronds, sound of river in the distance, grass is greener than a motherfucker. It doesn't get this idyllic very often, and I prepared myself to take full advantage of the situation.
So yeah, I smoked a little hash with them. I was already in such a good mood I don't think it enhanced the experience much. It definitely helped me get over my self-consciousness about my shitty French, though, so I actually communicated better under the influence.
Morocco seems like a stoner's paradise. The Rif mountains is where the term 'reefer' comes from; I've never been there but I hear that when you drive through the mountains, people pop out of the forest and run alongside your car waving bags of hash at you. You can also pay to go on tours of the cannabis fields, and even take photos.
