Not actually from Morocco…

Right. The name.

Here’s the story about the name.

Ten years ago I got married and went on honeymoon to Morocco. It was, as anyone who has been there will tell, utterly fantastic and a totally unique experience. While we were over there, we went walkabout in Marrakesh, hired a ramshackle little 4×4, trekked in the foothills of the Atlas mountains, drove over roadless mountain passes and off-roaded in the desert, visited Kasbahs and gorges, we were sung to and entertained by the inhabitants of a tiny little village that had no electricity and no mains water, and saw all sorts of amazing things that, upon my return home, I went on and on and on about to anyone that would listen.

And so, when a couple of my climbing buddies were talking to each other, and one was telling a story about “Dave”, and the other said “Dave who? Which Dave?”, the reply went like this:

“You know… Dave. Morocco Dave.”

To put the icing on the cake, one member of that conversation was in a band that I was doing some production work with, so when the album was released “Morocco Dave” got the credit.

And that’s how it started. So now you know.

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