My Mad Magical Moroccan Journey: A Memoir of Sex, Drugs, Rock and Roll, and Spiritual Enlightenment 1970-1973

I died and went to hell.

Tangier, Morocco, North Africa, 1972, prison for the insane, life sentence.

While buying hashish, the Moroccan dealers would say, "Hash makes you crazy." We hippies knew better and laughed. For two years, I smoked hash every day and dropped acid on holidays. Some of those holidays were made up, so I had an excuse to drop more acid.

I lived on the "hash trail" that began in Amsterdam and ended in Kathmandu. The trail went right by my front door in Tangier. Traveling the...