"DIG FOR DINOSAURS IN THE SAHARA DESERT!" beamed the poster in the department coffee room. Suitably enticed, half-a-dozen of us signed up for a Moroccan adventure, and headed to Birmingham to board an antique minibus bound for North Africa. After a circuitous and eventful southbound journey, we did make it to the desert, but the poster lied: we excavated nothing reptilian.
Fifteen years on, I find myself returning to Morocco next week in rather more privileged circumstances, as an invited participant in a British Council workshop*. I don't know if dinosaurs will turn up this time, but the meeting is entitled "Jurassic Palaeoenvironments and Life", so it can't be beyond the realms of possibility.
Once I get to Marrakech, I will provide regular updates on all the palaeontological highlights I encounter. Conveniently, though, I kept a diary in 1999, so I will start the ball rolling with the very first entry in that august journal. This is what it says:
27th March
It's nearly a fieldtrip, so this is nearly a field notebook. Confused as to what I might need for a three-week minibus tour of Morocco, I have a diverse and eclectic mix of supplies:
* multi-coloured pens
(to stop the local children vandalising the buses)
* action pants
(for action)
* Bob Dylan tapes
(for reaction)
* suncream Factor 200
(to preserve my Northern European complexion)
* cricket hat
(to remind me to teach the sport of kings to the local Berber tribes)
* Buxton mineral water
(if Cleopatra could bathe in asses' milk, the very least I can do is use Buxton mineral water for shaving with)
What else could a seasoned traveller like me possibly need?
I will probably take a similar selection of items this time, though I have to say I've no recollection why I thought multi-coloured pens would stop local children vandalizing buses. Surely it would have given them greater ammunition to do so? Ah, the vagaries of time and memory.
 |
| On a Moroccan roll: a Saharan dust plume (courtesy of Wikimedia Commons) |
Fifteen years on, I find myself returning to Morocco next week in rather more privileged circumstances, as an invited participant in a British Council workshop*. I don't know if dinosaurs will turn up this time, but the meeting is entitled "Jurassic Palaeoenvironments and Life", so it can't be beyond the realms of possibility.
Once I get to Marrakech, I will provide regular updates on all the palaeontological highlights I encounter. Conveniently, though, I kept a diary in 1999, so I will start the ball rolling with the very first entry in that august journal. This is what it says:
27th March
It's nearly a fieldtrip, so this is nearly a field notebook. Confused as to what I might need for a three-week minibus tour of Morocco, I have a diverse and eclectic mix of supplies:
* multi-coloured pens
(to stop the local children vandalising the buses)
* action pants
(for action)
* Bob Dylan tapes
(for reaction)
* suncream Factor 200
(to preserve my Northern European complexion)
* cricket hat
(to remind me to teach the sport of kings to the local Berber tribes)
* Buxton mineral water
(if Cleopatra could bathe in asses' milk, the very least I can do is use Buxton mineral water for shaving with)
What else could a seasoned traveller like me possibly need?
I will probably take a similar selection of items this time, though I have to say I've no recollection why I thought multi-coloured pens would stop local children vandalizing buses. Surely it would have given them greater ammunition to do so? Ah, the vagaries of time and memory.
 |
| Spinosaurus aegypticus, from the Cenomanian of Morocco (via Wikimedia Commons) |
*The British Council produces this guide, which I hope will feature strongly in the workshop.
I wonder whether Stephen Jay Gould had a hand in its creation.