Rise and shine! Up at the crack of dawn to head north and into a new continent. By 8am we had offloaded our luggage and indulged in our final true Moroccan style tea. About an hour later we headed off into the misty morning to enjoy a 3 hour bus ride North. At our half way mark we met a fellow Aussie traveller from Cairns. A recent doctor graduate, filling in his last month of freedom roaming Morocco before his life of real work begins. Pia and Ben used to wander the same haunts so they had a good chat reminiscing over the better things in Aussieland. At Tangier we said our farewells to Ben and headed to the port to enjoy a ferry ride over to Spain.
Tickets purchased : check
Luggage scanned: check
Immigration: check
All aboard: check
Next: waiting 2 hours for the ferry to fill up with passengers. In the interim I did what I do best on this trip - sleep. Pia was left to entertain herself and enjoy the soothing docile accents of the tour group that sat next to us. Once the engines started we were just a mere 35 minutes from the next continent we were set to travel into the new year. Whilst waiting for our bus connection in Tarifca to Arefciras we saw a group of 4WDs drive onto the ferry to participate on the Desert Dakar Rally. As fresh as they looked now, that certainly wouldn't be the case in the few weeks to come. Wishing them all a safe journey!
Within a couple of hours we were on another bus outta Algerciras to Sevilla - as slumber set in the next 3 hours went by in states of semi and unconsciousness. By 11 pm we rolled into Sevillas smaller bus station, to be greeted by many locals waiting for connecting buses to who knows where. In no desire to go hunting for bargain priced accommodation, we chose the closest place to crash to us. Hotel Alcazar - certainly a set up far fancier than Morocco and surprisingly around the same price as a twin share in a decent hostel in Europe. It wasn't long before the 13 hours of traveling took its toll and both Pia and I succumbed to the land of nod.
Sunday, 30 December 2012
Friday, 28 December 2012
Chilling in the Blue Town
Certainly in holiday mode. As we got our carcasses outta bed we headed out to the cosy medina of Chefchaoun, into the new village. There we strolled through the streets and watched the town come to life. In one of the piazzas we parked our bottoms and watched the local kids play soccer and listened to the men haggle in the fish markets. From there, since we were half way to the bus station we thought we should check out our tickets to Tangier. All we had to do was follow the street going down hill for the next kilometre. Along the way we said hello to policeman, the local mechanic and anyone who said g'day. Luckily, at the bus station we found a bus company that left at 8:30am. Unfortunately not the most classiest company we came with, but the Moroccan express, lol... Would have to do! We headed back to the medina to munch on a much needed brunch. We found a local pizzeria where we chatted to the owner in English and our limited Arabic vocabulary - oh those friendly Moroccans. With our batteries recharged we went on exploring the rest of the medina. All the streets and alleyways were covered in different shades of blue. Old doors and renovated doors were hidden in a sea of blue walls. Local men wandered up and down the streets in their jellaba looking like Jedi's from Star Wars. I was just waiting to see a light saver for sale in a market stall. After getting trigger happy with our cameras for a good couple of hours, some relaxation was in order.
To the Hamam we go!! It was certainly entertaining trying to communicate with the dear, old lady who worked there, since she didn't speak a word of English. Actually, no one who attended the Hamam spoke English. We definitely had found the hangout for the local ladies. I'm gonna keep this one brief since writing about the Hamam, might not nearly be as chuckle- worthy as hearing the story firsthand!
A couple of hours later we emerged from the local bath, scrubbed, massaged and so fresh 'n' so clean, clean!! Next on the agenda was back to the hostel to chilax and try and hold off eating dinner till at least 6:30pm... Argh, we lasted till 6.
Snuggled up in multiple layers, we headed out for our last supper in Morroco. We found a lovely three story restaurant that looked over the piazza. There we munched away on our delicious tagines! Unfortunately it was so chilly and the little town had already gone into shutdown mode that we made our way back home to return blood circulation to our fingers and toes at a very responsible hour of 'nanna' o'clock.
To the Hamam we go!! It was certainly entertaining trying to communicate with the dear, old lady who worked there, since she didn't speak a word of English. Actually, no one who attended the Hamam spoke English. We definitely had found the hangout for the local ladies. I'm gonna keep this one brief since writing about the Hamam, might not nearly be as chuckle- worthy as hearing the story firsthand!
A couple of hours later we emerged from the local bath, scrubbed, massaged and so fresh 'n' so clean, clean!! Next on the agenda was back to the hostel to chilax and try and hold off eating dinner till at least 6:30pm... Argh, we lasted till 6.
Snuggled up in multiple layers, we headed out for our last supper in Morroco. We found a lovely three story restaurant that looked over the piazza. There we munched away on our delicious tagines! Unfortunately it was so chilly and the little town had already gone into shutdown mode that we made our way back home to return blood circulation to our fingers and toes at a very responsible hour of 'nanna' o'clock.
Thursday, 27 December 2012
Xmas in Morocco
Feeling more human, we got ourselves packed, consumed another delicious brekky, booked our accommodation for the next town and raced to the blue gate to catch a taxi to the bus station. With 30 minutes to spare we purchased our tickets and had our bags weighed... This is when we discovered how heavy our carpets were! 😱
The next 4 hours were spent enjoying heavy winter rain, so heavy the interior of the bus rained. We enjoyed a quick pitstop at a local roadhouse. Whilst I tipped the cleaner a few larger coins then expected,
in my distracted state, I came close to knocking myself out with a goat carcass hanging from a pylon. Eyes up! For the remainder of the drive we moved further into the mountainous ranges, saying goodbye to the eucalyptus trees that riddled the road side and green fields. It was such a nice change admiring the green landscape and puffs of crisp, white clouds that littered the vibrant, blue sky. By mid afternoon we reached the peak that looked down onto Chefchaouen aka the Blue town. Once we collected our luggage we headed to the entrance but there was no taxi to greet us. With our recently bursting at the seams backpacks, we ventured up the steepest hill we'd both seen in awhile. Conveniently, when we reached the top, who was there... Yes, our new BFF, Mr taxi man. Better late than never! He kindly dropped us at the northwest entrance of the medina, where we were instantly greeted by locals. At this point we were not in the mood for assistance and defiantly marched on, in what we hoped, was the right direction... Thankfully we made it to Hotel Yasmina unaided and with no obligation to tip anyone. Here we met Wendy the walker. This lovely lady from England has been traveling for the last 4 decades all over the globe, completing some of the most challenging hiking trails. We spent the next hour chatting about all sorts of interesting things. We certainly let Wendy know that when he wrote her memoirs we'd be sure to read them. ☺ After roaming around the quaint little medina, we couldn't wait sny longer to eat dinner, no matter how early it was! Since it was Christmas and all, we thought we'd have a little feast. This entailed eating the last couple of Moroccan dishes we hadn't tasted. Firstly we munched on a delicious chicken pastella. The sugary, cinnamon pastry with the savory meat stuffing complimented each other quite nicely. Then we ordered the rabbit with figs... Now I'm not the most savviest connoisseur but I know what a fig taste like. Cutting an apricot in half and sprinkling the middle with sesame seeds, ain't fooling nobody. Unfortunately there was no Xmas pudding on the menu, do we headed down the piazza to a local bakery stall who served mouthwatering pastries. It was here we met our Aussie loving, Moroccan hippy stall owner. This guy spent a quarter of his year in Australia trying to make it on the market scene. As soon as he knew we were Aussies, we chatted away about anything and everything - he even offered to serve us tea made with 46 different herbs... Hmmm seems like we'd be flying high after that tea. Instead, we politely declined and enjoyed some mint tea or 'Moroccan whiskey' as the locals like to call it. Merry Christmas!!
The next 4 hours were spent enjoying heavy winter rain, so heavy the interior of the bus rained. We enjoyed a quick pitstop at a local roadhouse. Whilst I tipped the cleaner a few larger coins then expected,
in my distracted state, I came close to knocking myself out with a goat carcass hanging from a pylon. Eyes up! For the remainder of the drive we moved further into the mountainous ranges, saying goodbye to the eucalyptus trees that riddled the road side and green fields. It was such a nice change admiring the green landscape and puffs of crisp, white clouds that littered the vibrant, blue sky. By mid afternoon we reached the peak that looked down onto Chefchaouen aka the Blue town. Once we collected our luggage we headed to the entrance but there was no taxi to greet us. With our recently bursting at the seams backpacks, we ventured up the steepest hill we'd both seen in awhile. Conveniently, when we reached the top, who was there... Yes, our new BFF, Mr taxi man. Better late than never! He kindly dropped us at the northwest entrance of the medina, where we were instantly greeted by locals. At this point we were not in the mood for assistance and defiantly marched on, in what we hoped, was the right direction... Thankfully we made it to Hotel Yasmina unaided and with no obligation to tip anyone. Here we met Wendy the walker. This lovely lady from England has been traveling for the last 4 decades all over the globe, completing some of the most challenging hiking trails. We spent the next hour chatting about all sorts of interesting things. We certainly let Wendy know that when he wrote her memoirs we'd be sure to read them. ☺ After roaming around the quaint little medina, we couldn't wait sny longer to eat dinner, no matter how early it was! Since it was Christmas and all, we thought we'd have a little feast. This entailed eating the last couple of Moroccan dishes we hadn't tasted. Firstly we munched on a delicious chicken pastella. The sugary, cinnamon pastry with the savory meat stuffing complimented each other quite nicely. Then we ordered the rabbit with figs... Now I'm not the most savviest connoisseur but I know what a fig taste like. Cutting an apricot in half and sprinkling the middle with sesame seeds, ain't fooling nobody. Unfortunately there was no Xmas pudding on the menu, do we headed down the piazza to a local bakery stall who served mouthwatering pastries. It was here we met our Aussie loving, Moroccan hippy stall owner. This guy spent a quarter of his year in Australia trying to make it on the market scene. As soon as he knew we were Aussies, we chatted away about anything and everything - he even offered to serve us tea made with 46 different herbs... Hmmm seems like we'd be flying high after that tea. Instead, we politely declined and enjoyed some mint tea or 'Moroccan whiskey' as the locals like to call it. Merry Christmas!!
Fez-tastic!
Our hosts at the Dar El Yasmine generously served us up a Moroccan breakfast - filled with crepes, polenta-like bread, yellowy coloured bread and more bread - good old white baguette. As we munched on our carbohydrate intact of the day or perhaps the week, we discussed what the remainder of our holiday would entail. At 10 o'clock we ventured out in the medina and waited under the archway beside the very verbal homeless gentlemen and the carpet salesman. It was here we discovered how vocal the young men of Fez were... No, let's not get married!
Thankfully, Nordin our guide arrived and saved us from the thought of having to roam the streets of Fez, unguided and uneducated on our surroundings. The first place we visited was the main entrance know as the blue gate. From the exterior is blue which represent the colour of the region, whilst the interior is green, representing the colour of Islam. After a Kodak moment, we headed to the section that was known as the food market. Roosters, chickens and every fruit and vegetable in season riddled the streets. Butchers hacked at animal carcasses, as store keepers weighed lentils and tourists shoved their cameras in their faces and took numerous photos. At the end of section was the water clock tower - which had been designed by fellow, who I think was Jewish in possibly the 13th century. ( For accurate dates - google now!) From there we headed to a neighbouring school owned by the make of the water clock. The interior was filled with mosaic designs, along with the Koran written in calligraphy through the mosaics. The doors, ceilings and slats were intricately designed with cedar wood. Next we began wandering through the many, many streets and alleyways that make up the medina. Along our walking tour we came across a lot of street art that got Pia all excited. There was an area where the walls had been blocked into different numbered panels. We discovered these were for when they had their elections ever 4 years. Within some of the panels were logos, which was more for the illiterate population so they could quickly identify the candidate for each political party. We continued on and came across the artisian quarters where they paint doors, wooden furniture and so on. An average size door could take up to 2 weeks to finish. After a quick photo shoot we headed further into the heart of the medina to where the tailors were based. Many made the jellaba worn by the men and women. It was at this point we found out what the men in the streets had been doing with the metres of silk. They would find a quietish alley and pull out multiple pieces of silk and then spin them together. Making a thicker silk string. Once spun they would sell it the tailors who used it to sew the intricate designs on the jellaba, belts and headpieces. Onward bound we entered the bronze and silver souk where the blacksmiths made huge cooking pots, plates and other trinkets. The souk was located next to the university.
From there we entered Dar Essad, which used to be a family home, but they turned into a refugee for widows and female orphans. At its peak there were up to 1500 women working for them and still do today, making magnificent Moroccan carpets, some carpets take up to 1 year to finish. We climbed the many narrows staircases up to the roof to admire the view of the medina. Here we sat down with one of the young women making a two sided carpet - one side smooth for summer and the other side fluffier for winter. Kindly, she allowed Pia and I to have a go... She probably went back and cut out the pieces since we had no idea what colours should have been going where. Next we headed back in to the Dar where we sat down to admire the hundreds of beautifully made carpets. As we sipped on mint tea, Abdullah (the head salesman and lawyer for the workers) informed us about the history of the establishment. Before we knew it we were being shown amazing berber designed rugs varying from truly expensive to ones reaching more within our budget...well our make believe budget - There comes a time in your traveling life you need to bite the bullet and buy that painting, carpet, ceramic or jewelry piece you've alway wanted, no matter what the price. Well, Pia and I reached that point in Dar Essad. With our bartering skills combined we managed to walk away with silk, Moroccan rugs covered in berber designs. The credit card transaction was heart wrenching enough but we neglected to think about the extra 5 kilos we'd be hiking around in our backpacks for the remainder of the trip. Good times!!!
Next on the agenda we visited the textile stores, where we saw how they made pashminas and large fabric pieces. Here I was dressed as Laurence of Arabia, whilst Pia searched for her uniquely Moroccan pashmina. Next we roamed the streets which were filled with vibrant plumes of silk and metres of fabric... Then we reached the jewelry shops. Argh!!! After visiting easily a dozen jewelry stores through Morocco, I finally found my ring - That screamed, buy me!! The man asked for an exorbitant price, I chuckled and said some ridiculously lower price. Thinking he wouldn't budge - we bantered back and forth. I already had it in my head I wasn't getting it and as we waited for Nordin and chatted more with the salesmen they agreed to my price! Oh no, if only I asked for less, now I was obligated to buy... What a shame ;) Fez, you're making me broke!
Onward bound to the tanneries... As we entered a leather goods store they took us to the roof and there we looked down into up easily 50 troughs, used for cleaning and tanning the goat skins. The smell was unusual, but the closer to the troughs the more offensive it became. One of the reasons would be that to clean the fur from the skins they leave them in troughs filled with limestone and pigeon droppings - the perfect cleaning combination. After a quick run down on how the tanneries worked, we wandered through the shop and out the door - no purchases this time round.
Last on the agenda was the ceramic section. Beautifully designed tagine cookers, plates, bowls and vases filled the streets. Upon entry into one of the many stores, here we were shown the ceramic process. The urge to buy was tempting, but earlier at lunch, as we munched on our lamb and prunes dish, we met a couple of Americans who were charged $600 just for shipping. As gorgeous as the ceramics were in their hues of blue and green, it would have to be a global village purchase back home in Dubai.
By now the sun was settings, well as much as we could see of the sky through the high walls of the medina. By 6pm, with our valuable carpets delivered to us, I crashed out for the night with a wicked migraine. Fez had taken its toll in me and my senses had gone into overload. Pia went on to the celebrate Christmas Eve at our hostel. They cooked a massive vegetable tagine, large enough for 10 people to munch away at. All nations did their best to represent from Morocco to Australia , Spanish to Korean.
Thankfully, Nordin our guide arrived and saved us from the thought of having to roam the streets of Fez, unguided and uneducated on our surroundings. The first place we visited was the main entrance know as the blue gate. From the exterior is blue which represent the colour of the region, whilst the interior is green, representing the colour of Islam. After a Kodak moment, we headed to the section that was known as the food market. Roosters, chickens and every fruit and vegetable in season riddled the streets. Butchers hacked at animal carcasses, as store keepers weighed lentils and tourists shoved their cameras in their faces and took numerous photos. At the end of section was the water clock tower - which had been designed by fellow, who I think was Jewish in possibly the 13th century. ( For accurate dates - google now!) From there we headed to a neighbouring school owned by the make of the water clock. The interior was filled with mosaic designs, along with the Koran written in calligraphy through the mosaics. The doors, ceilings and slats were intricately designed with cedar wood. Next we began wandering through the many, many streets and alleyways that make up the medina. Along our walking tour we came across a lot of street art that got Pia all excited. There was an area where the walls had been blocked into different numbered panels. We discovered these were for when they had their elections ever 4 years. Within some of the panels were logos, which was more for the illiterate population so they could quickly identify the candidate for each political party. We continued on and came across the artisian quarters where they paint doors, wooden furniture and so on. An average size door could take up to 2 weeks to finish. After a quick photo shoot we headed further into the heart of the medina to where the tailors were based. Many made the jellaba worn by the men and women. It was at this point we found out what the men in the streets had been doing with the metres of silk. They would find a quietish alley and pull out multiple pieces of silk and then spin them together. Making a thicker silk string. Once spun they would sell it the tailors who used it to sew the intricate designs on the jellaba, belts and headpieces. Onward bound we entered the bronze and silver souk where the blacksmiths made huge cooking pots, plates and other trinkets. The souk was located next to the university.
From there we entered Dar Essad, which used to be a family home, but they turned into a refugee for widows and female orphans. At its peak there were up to 1500 women working for them and still do today, making magnificent Moroccan carpets, some carpets take up to 1 year to finish. We climbed the many narrows staircases up to the roof to admire the view of the medina. Here we sat down with one of the young women making a two sided carpet - one side smooth for summer and the other side fluffier for winter. Kindly, she allowed Pia and I to have a go... She probably went back and cut out the pieces since we had no idea what colours should have been going where. Next we headed back in to the Dar where we sat down to admire the hundreds of beautifully made carpets. As we sipped on mint tea, Abdullah (the head salesman and lawyer for the workers) informed us about the history of the establishment. Before we knew it we were being shown amazing berber designed rugs varying from truly expensive to ones reaching more within our budget...well our make believe budget - There comes a time in your traveling life you need to bite the bullet and buy that painting, carpet, ceramic or jewelry piece you've alway wanted, no matter what the price. Well, Pia and I reached that point in Dar Essad. With our bartering skills combined we managed to walk away with silk, Moroccan rugs covered in berber designs. The credit card transaction was heart wrenching enough but we neglected to think about the extra 5 kilos we'd be hiking around in our backpacks for the remainder of the trip. Good times!!!
Next on the agenda we visited the textile stores, where we saw how they made pashminas and large fabric pieces. Here I was dressed as Laurence of Arabia, whilst Pia searched for her uniquely Moroccan pashmina. Next we roamed the streets which were filled with vibrant plumes of silk and metres of fabric... Then we reached the jewelry shops. Argh!!! After visiting easily a dozen jewelry stores through Morocco, I finally found my ring - That screamed, buy me!! The man asked for an exorbitant price, I chuckled and said some ridiculously lower price. Thinking he wouldn't budge - we bantered back and forth. I already had it in my head I wasn't getting it and as we waited for Nordin and chatted more with the salesmen they agreed to my price! Oh no, if only I asked for less, now I was obligated to buy... What a shame ;) Fez, you're making me broke!
Onward bound to the tanneries... As we entered a leather goods store they took us to the roof and there we looked down into up easily 50 troughs, used for cleaning and tanning the goat skins. The smell was unusual, but the closer to the troughs the more offensive it became. One of the reasons would be that to clean the fur from the skins they leave them in troughs filled with limestone and pigeon droppings - the perfect cleaning combination. After a quick run down on how the tanneries worked, we wandered through the shop and out the door - no purchases this time round.
Last on the agenda was the ceramic section. Beautifully designed tagine cookers, plates, bowls and vases filled the streets. Upon entry into one of the many stores, here we were shown the ceramic process. The urge to buy was tempting, but earlier at lunch, as we munched on our lamb and prunes dish, we met a couple of Americans who were charged $600 just for shipping. As gorgeous as the ceramics were in their hues of blue and green, it would have to be a global village purchase back home in Dubai.
By now the sun was settings, well as much as we could see of the sky through the high walls of the medina. By 6pm, with our valuable carpets delivered to us, I crashed out for the night with a wicked migraine. Fez had taken its toll in me and my senses had gone into overload. Pia went on to the celebrate Christmas Eve at our hostel. They cooked a massive vegetable tagine, large enough for 10 people to munch away at. All nations did their best to represent from Morocco to Australia , Spanish to Korean.
Monday, 24 December 2012
Train rides in Morocco
Up early, we chilled on the rooftop terrace hanging with the turtles, waiting for the morning sun to creep over the buildings and warm us up. After a hearty breakfast, a good chinwag with some fellow travelers and learning the art of tea pouring from Pia we were off to the local train station. The taxi kindly dropped us off the front at a bargain price we didn't even have to barter for, woohoo!! Immediately we purchased our first class tickets... That's how we roll in Morocco, lol! And stocked up on supplies for our 7 hour long train journey. The weather was perfect, allowing us to fully enjoy the landscape that scrolled by. Surprisingly, neither of us realized how many eucalyptus trees there were in Morocco. During the majority of the trip - large patches of eucalyptus trees would appear.... I still call Australia home!
Our first train friend was an older gentlemen from Marrakech. He kindly gave us some tips on where we were heading and tut tutted us on a few places we didn't make it to in Marrakech, all in good humour. To Pia's satisfaction, he got off after a couple stops saving her having to chat for the next hour - not her favourite pastime. Pia and I continued west where we munched our way through our supplies...
In first class the bathrooms were much were fancier than further down then carriage. So as I wandered down to use the facilities and closed the door I noticed that it wasn't closing properly. Eh! So thinking not much of it I did what I went there to do and as I opened the partially closed door, it came flying off its lower hinges and wasn't in any way moving back to where it once comfortably sat. Conveniently the man who had told me off earlier for having my feet on the chair, walked pass and gave me the same eyebrows... He must of thought I was a walking disaster, as I shrugged my shoulders at him in defeat.
Once we arrived at Casblanca we met our new travel buddy for the next 3 hours, let's call him Ahmed. By this point I was feeling the urge to nap ... iPod on, eyes closed, my head began lolling back and forth... But soon enough I could hear people chatting and there was Pia chatting away to Ahmed. As I'm always up for a good gasbag... We then spent the next few hours on and off chatting to Ahmed, learning about his hometown of Fez and our other destination, Chefchouen. We even got the honour of seeing photos of his family. Soon enough the lads next to us, began joining in and before we knew it we had a nice posse of peeps. Over the next couple of hours we intermittently joined in, in various conversations which switched between, French, Arabic and English. By the end of the journey we had numerous traveling tips and a tour guide booked for Fez. As the train pulled into Fez station, we farewelled our traveling compadres for the last few hours.
When we entered the station there was a man holding a sign, as I read it I noticed it said 'Piya'. I pulled Pia to a halted and indicated to our new friend, obviously our tour guide. This is where we met Norde, the older gentlemen, Ahmed organised for us. We exchanged introductions and headed out to find a taxi, however, as they were all busy we jumped into a white, mini Suzuki car that drove us to the old part of Fez. Once there Norde took us through the windy streets of the medina. We discovered there are only...9050 streets within the medina... So I don't know why we felt compelled to get a guide ;) Norde kindly dropped us at the door of our Riad, where we arranged a rendevouz point for the following day. We farewelled our new friend and walked up to the massive wooden door... The only door we could see down the dark alley. I banged the door knocker and eerily it opened to a tall, well built, dark Moroccan decked out in his Jellaba or as I like to call the jellaba's - Star Wars outfits 'the force is strong with this one...'
We entered the inner courtyard, where we exchanged pleasantries. When Mohamed discovered we were Australian, out came his knowledge of Aussie slang. His favourite was 'Cool bananas' haha! Soon we discovered that the owner, Aziz and Mohamed were dating Aussie girls, hence why they knew so many Aussie-isms. Once we were checked in, Aziz was heading to his new Riad he had just finished building, so we followed for a quick look and also to know the location of the blue gate ( the main entrance to the medina) With our natural compasses set, we ventured off on our own to find some food... Not as if we hadn't munched enough on the train. We found the central hub of different cafes, chose one and perched ourselves down on an outside table, where we ate our way through a delicious array of traditional cuisine. Like typical girls we had to stop at the neighbouring sweet shop. Specifically we were in search of a coconut-like biscuit we tried from a street vendor in Marrrakech. Unfortunately we didn't find it, but like any person suffering from a sweet tooth, we took half a dozen of a lookalike for desert. We wandered back through one of the many main streets, watching the street stalls, shut up shop for the evening. As we hunkered in for the night, we discovered our room, backed right onto the street, so it was entertaining hearing the various noises of late night wanderers.
Our first train friend was an older gentlemen from Marrakech. He kindly gave us some tips on where we were heading and tut tutted us on a few places we didn't make it to in Marrakech, all in good humour. To Pia's satisfaction, he got off after a couple stops saving her having to chat for the next hour - not her favourite pastime. Pia and I continued west where we munched our way through our supplies...
In first class the bathrooms were much were fancier than further down then carriage. So as I wandered down to use the facilities and closed the door I noticed that it wasn't closing properly. Eh! So thinking not much of it I did what I went there to do and as I opened the partially closed door, it came flying off its lower hinges and wasn't in any way moving back to where it once comfortably sat. Conveniently the man who had told me off earlier for having my feet on the chair, walked pass and gave me the same eyebrows... He must of thought I was a walking disaster, as I shrugged my shoulders at him in defeat.
Once we arrived at Casblanca we met our new travel buddy for the next 3 hours, let's call him Ahmed. By this point I was feeling the urge to nap ... iPod on, eyes closed, my head began lolling back and forth... But soon enough I could hear people chatting and there was Pia chatting away to Ahmed. As I'm always up for a good gasbag... We then spent the next few hours on and off chatting to Ahmed, learning about his hometown of Fez and our other destination, Chefchouen. We even got the honour of seeing photos of his family. Soon enough the lads next to us, began joining in and before we knew it we had a nice posse of peeps. Over the next couple of hours we intermittently joined in, in various conversations which switched between, French, Arabic and English. By the end of the journey we had numerous traveling tips and a tour guide booked for Fez. As the train pulled into Fez station, we farewelled our traveling compadres for the last few hours.
When we entered the station there was a man holding a sign, as I read it I noticed it said 'Piya'. I pulled Pia to a halted and indicated to our new friend, obviously our tour guide. This is where we met Norde, the older gentlemen, Ahmed organised for us. We exchanged introductions and headed out to find a taxi, however, as they were all busy we jumped into a white, mini Suzuki car that drove us to the old part of Fez. Once there Norde took us through the windy streets of the medina. We discovered there are only...9050 streets within the medina... So I don't know why we felt compelled to get a guide ;) Norde kindly dropped us at the door of our Riad, where we arranged a rendevouz point for the following day. We farewelled our new friend and walked up to the massive wooden door... The only door we could see down the dark alley. I banged the door knocker and eerily it opened to a tall, well built, dark Moroccan decked out in his Jellaba or as I like to call the jellaba's - Star Wars outfits 'the force is strong with this one...'
We entered the inner courtyard, where we exchanged pleasantries. When Mohamed discovered we were Australian, out came his knowledge of Aussie slang. His favourite was 'Cool bananas' haha! Soon we discovered that the owner, Aziz and Mohamed were dating Aussie girls, hence why they knew so many Aussie-isms. Once we were checked in, Aziz was heading to his new Riad he had just finished building, so we followed for a quick look and also to know the location of the blue gate ( the main entrance to the medina) With our natural compasses set, we ventured off on our own to find some food... Not as if we hadn't munched enough on the train. We found the central hub of different cafes, chose one and perched ourselves down on an outside table, where we ate our way through a delicious array of traditional cuisine. Like typical girls we had to stop at the neighbouring sweet shop. Specifically we were in search of a coconut-like biscuit we tried from a street vendor in Marrrakech. Unfortunately we didn't find it, but like any person suffering from a sweet tooth, we took half a dozen of a lookalike for desert. We wandered back through one of the many main streets, watching the street stalls, shut up shop for the evening. As we hunkered in for the night, we discovered our room, backed right onto the street, so it was entertaining hearing the various noises of late night wanderers.
Sunday, 23 December 2012
Marrakech makes history with the longest blog entry!!!
Sleeping in bunk beds always brings back childhood memories - especially the really high ones - where you could jump from - or in my case nowadays as an adult nearly break your neck or roll an ankle if you land awkwardly. After safety climbing down from Mount Grande bunk bed, Pia and I munched on a banquet for breakfast. The guy just kept on coming out with plates and plates of carbohydrates and most importantly...2 eggs. There was no stopping us, we were munching machines. From the intense consumption we headed to the terrace to enjoy some digestion time and stock up on some sunrays. There we attempted to plan the remainder of our trip... We managed to organise the next 2 days. After booking our accommodation and meeting the resident pet, Timmy the turtle... We headed into the maze of streets that made up Marrakesh's Jemma El Fna Bazaar. Already by mid morning the stalls were decked out and the streets were filling fast with tourists mingled amongst the locals. Firstly we found a rooftop terrace where we hydrated ourselves with our first tea of the day and came up with a game plan - lose the map, let's go wander and get lost!! As we headed into the windy streets of the bazaar our senses were placed into overload - the colours, sounds and smells. Stalls filled with textiles, jewelry, leather shoes, bags... Random knickknacks! As we wandered you had to beware of the couriers pulling their carts which happened to be the width of the pathway. A few near misses were had. The first stall we ventured to was filled with funky rings, silver bracelets and lavishly beaded necklaces. We were looking for a particular ring for our friend, however, our own purchases had to be made. Here we met Sharadi, who was a rotund Moroccan with a cheeky smile. We scanned his stall from top to bottom since earlier in the morning I'd realized I'd only been sporting one ear ring, so a new pair had to be purchased. I'm not the most enthusiastic barter but in our jovial mood, Pia and I managed to get ourselves a good deal - more so for her bracelet. I even managed a free magnet for the growing fridge magnet collection. Onward bound - further in to the midst of the souk. It was here we came across the very eccentric naturopath! Instantly he was posing for photos with Pia... And showing us his strange collection of products. It was the jars of spices and 'who knows what' that grabbed my attention - so into the stall we headed. As the curtain was pulled back - jars filled the room from ceiling to floor - spices, herbs and pigments in every colour of the rainbow could be seen. Candy for the eyeballs! After receiving a mini lecture on ever herb and its benefits under the sun we walked away with remedies for sleep deprivation and sinuses. Oh, I can't forget the natural bright red lipstick pot we scored - I look forward to seeing you wear that on our next night out, Pia!
From there we wandered further into the unknown. We certainly weren't in tourist central anymore as more donkeys and locals past by us. As we walked aimlessly we manage to come across some orange trees, where I was determined to grab some fruit. It provided some light entertainment for the locals watching me jump and do running leaps- even more so as I tried to eat the horrendously sour orange. It didn't last more than one bite - to the donkeys it went. By this point we had no idea where we were so we hailed a taxi. With our limited linguistic skills of the 3 common languages of Morocco, we tried to pin point where we were, indicating one particular point on the map, only to end up being driven back to where we started... Argh!
When all else fails - eat!! Luckily we came across the restaurant recommended to us the night before so we stocked up on some delicious Moroccan cuisine. There we consumed and enjoyed some entertaining people watching. Now our batteries were recharged we headed across the square where Pia got targeted by a henna artist. The lady gripped onto Pia's arm as if she was the last white tourist in Morocco and began tattooing away. Pia eventually pried her arm off the lady and walked on. At this point Pia made it perfectly clear she wasn't paying and the artist, in a huff, messily scrapped the henna partially off Pia's arm. This then led to the next helpful but soon to be unhelpful Moroccan scenario with a shop keeper kindly offering to clean the dye off . In summary his attempts to sell us clothes, resulted in Pia being decked out in traditional Saharian dress which then led to some unwanted attention...It would take more than 1 million camels to buy this girl. As we bolted out of the store ready to karate chop anyone who approached us, we headed back to the hostel to come up with a game plan for the evening. Freshened up and an extra layer of warmth we headed out for round 2. After an impromptu photoshoot down the deserted streets of the bazaar, we headed in search of a pashmina for Miss Brasher. However we managed to find everything but that! On our second trip through the bazaar we found a huge jewelry store where we discovered rings made for gouging out eyeballs, an antique store riddled with every camera and old school advertisement since 1920, a man offering his hand in marriage and the souk pet shop which should have been closed down by the RSPCA. However we did get to play with a chameleon and have a chat to the shop keeper. Funnily enough he insisted it was mainly tourists from Europe who bough chameleons and tortoises for pets. Our first thoughts were how do they get them pass border security!
Tea break time! At this point lounging in the cafe, Pia spotted the mountain of beanies for sale... In true backpacker style I thought I would embrace my hippy roots where I agreed to purchase my new favourite accessory - a rainbow coloured beanie!! Poor Pia having to travel with hippy Alisha wearing such a monstrosity on her head for the next 10 days! In the end we never found a pashmina for Pia - thankfully there is always Fez. As the sun began to set we strolled back into the main plaza where the food stalls were setting up for another evening of feasting. As we were not yet ready for indulging we found ourselves mingled amongst the numerous horses and carriages. There we chilled and took in another good hour of people watching until we were ready for another gorging fest. On our way to the food stalls we got distracted by the people fishing for coke bottles and stopped to watch, then... the man appeared with his pet monkey! Instantly I jumped 2 metres away as this monkey leapt onto the back of a guys shoulders. As we slowly backed away Pia noticed the monkey do quite a generous poo which landed in the guys hoodie. Unfortunately no one noticed . As my Good Samaritan deed of the day I headed over to tell the guy, however, he didn't understand what I was saying and I was quite jumpy since I've never been the same around monkeys since Thailand... the pet owner kept moving closer to me with his giant monkey.
We never found out how long it took for the guy to find the monkey poo - since I ran off screaming - all we do know was the guy looked pretty terrified after I tried to tell him at least 3 times there something in hoodie.
From there we laughed our way to stall 25 for dinner where we only managed a small portion of soup, mergez and tagine for dinner. On the way home we stopped at stall 71 for desert. This included piping hot cinnamon tea and Moroccan cake - which was more like thick uncooked cake batter sprinkled with coconut and ginger. There we stood around the cart, chatting to a local lad who kindly told us about life in Marrakech, whilst the old man on the otherside powered through 4 glasses of tea in under 5 minutes and even finished my drink off - Tea addiction at its peak! As we wandered home through the snake charmers, locals musicians and sale mens we were honored to witness Moroccan drag queens at their finest - ooh la la! It's surprising we made it home in one piece after such an eventful day... Like true nannas the thought of hitting the town in cool winter temps wasn't even considered and we cocooned ourselves into out bunk beds ready for the land of slumber... I'll save the 1 am wake up call we got for another time. Never a dull moment in Marrakech!
From there we wandered further into the unknown. We certainly weren't in tourist central anymore as more donkeys and locals past by us. As we walked aimlessly we manage to come across some orange trees, where I was determined to grab some fruit. It provided some light entertainment for the locals watching me jump and do running leaps- even more so as I tried to eat the horrendously sour orange. It didn't last more than one bite - to the donkeys it went. By this point we had no idea where we were so we hailed a taxi. With our limited linguistic skills of the 3 common languages of Morocco, we tried to pin point where we were, indicating one particular point on the map, only to end up being driven back to where we started... Argh!
When all else fails - eat!! Luckily we came across the restaurant recommended to us the night before so we stocked up on some delicious Moroccan cuisine. There we consumed and enjoyed some entertaining people watching. Now our batteries were recharged we headed across the square where Pia got targeted by a henna artist. The lady gripped onto Pia's arm as if she was the last white tourist in Morocco and began tattooing away. Pia eventually pried her arm off the lady and walked on. At this point Pia made it perfectly clear she wasn't paying and the artist, in a huff, messily scrapped the henna partially off Pia's arm. This then led to the next helpful but soon to be unhelpful Moroccan scenario with a shop keeper kindly offering to clean the dye off . In summary his attempts to sell us clothes, resulted in Pia being decked out in traditional Saharian dress which then led to some unwanted attention...It would take more than 1 million camels to buy this girl. As we bolted out of the store ready to karate chop anyone who approached us, we headed back to the hostel to come up with a game plan for the evening. Freshened up and an extra layer of warmth we headed out for round 2. After an impromptu photoshoot down the deserted streets of the bazaar, we headed in search of a pashmina for Miss Brasher. However we managed to find everything but that! On our second trip through the bazaar we found a huge jewelry store where we discovered rings made for gouging out eyeballs, an antique store riddled with every camera and old school advertisement since 1920, a man offering his hand in marriage and the souk pet shop which should have been closed down by the RSPCA. However we did get to play with a chameleon and have a chat to the shop keeper. Funnily enough he insisted it was mainly tourists from Europe who bough chameleons and tortoises for pets. Our first thoughts were how do they get them pass border security!
Tea break time! At this point lounging in the cafe, Pia spotted the mountain of beanies for sale... In true backpacker style I thought I would embrace my hippy roots where I agreed to purchase my new favourite accessory - a rainbow coloured beanie!! Poor Pia having to travel with hippy Alisha wearing such a monstrosity on her head for the next 10 days! In the end we never found a pashmina for Pia - thankfully there is always Fez. As the sun began to set we strolled back into the main plaza where the food stalls were setting up for another evening of feasting. As we were not yet ready for indulging we found ourselves mingled amongst the numerous horses and carriages. There we chilled and took in another good hour of people watching until we were ready for another gorging fest. On our way to the food stalls we got distracted by the people fishing for coke bottles and stopped to watch, then... the man appeared with his pet monkey! Instantly I jumped 2 metres away as this monkey leapt onto the back of a guys shoulders. As we slowly backed away Pia noticed the monkey do quite a generous poo which landed in the guys hoodie. Unfortunately no one noticed . As my Good Samaritan deed of the day I headed over to tell the guy, however, he didn't understand what I was saying and I was quite jumpy since I've never been the same around monkeys since Thailand... the pet owner kept moving closer to me with his giant monkey.
We never found out how long it took for the guy to find the monkey poo - since I ran off screaming - all we do know was the guy looked pretty terrified after I tried to tell him at least 3 times there something in hoodie.
From there we laughed our way to stall 25 for dinner where we only managed a small portion of soup, mergez and tagine for dinner. On the way home we stopped at stall 71 for desert. This included piping hot cinnamon tea and Moroccan cake - which was more like thick uncooked cake batter sprinkled with coconut and ginger. There we stood around the cart, chatting to a local lad who kindly told us about life in Marrakech, whilst the old man on the otherside powered through 4 glasses of tea in under 5 minutes and even finished my drink off - Tea addiction at its peak! As we wandered home through the snake charmers, locals musicians and sale mens we were honored to witness Moroccan drag queens at their finest - ooh la la! It's surprising we made it home in one piece after such an eventful day... Like true nannas the thought of hitting the town in cool winter temps wasn't even considered and we cocooned ourselves into out bunk beds ready for the land of slumber... I'll save the 1 am wake up call we got for another time. Never a dull moment in Marrakech!
Friday, 21 December 2012
Exploring Casablanca
Good morning Casablanca! Our wake up call wasn't the call to prayer but rather a boisterous or drunken Muslim screaming at the top of his lungs - Allah, Allah, Allah!
By 9am we were showered, feed and ready to explore the city. First port of call was the port, only since it was the closest bearing to our hotel. From there we headed along the coast to Hassan II Mosque which was located right on the water. The exterior of the mosque was covered in vibrant greens and blues. In the distance waves could be heard crashing against the rocks, a rare and nice experience in comparing visiting mosques located in the UAE. From there we roamed inland and explored the city centre - we managed to wander past the palace, judicial courts, the old police station where the clock tower was set to the wrong time. Along with the post office and bank decked out in traditional mosaics. By this time we were ready for some traditional Moroccan tea. Like any local we found a cafe and settled ourselves down amongst the men on the side street, watching life go by. It was at this point we discovered how my black converse shoes were a magnet for the shoe shiners. Six shoe shiners later in a 45 minute window... If they weren't canvas shoes lads I'd be more than happy to experience your shoe shining skills. After our sugar fix, onward bound to the central markets where we wandered through stalls filled with random knickknacks - nothing was appealing apart from the kilos or dried fruit and nuts. By midday we made out way back in the direction of our hotel which was located within the medina. As we wandered in and out of the small alleys we managed to land ourselves amongst at least one hundred men as they finished the call to prayer - spot the white females. They were friendly and harmless enough and as we followed the crowd they lead us in the direction of a small fruit market where we stocked up on delicious mandarins, nom nom nom! Upon arrival at our hotel we shared the mandarin love with the owner - who was a mad nutter, who like myself enjoyed talking and singing to himself, hehe! With backpacks strapped we made our way onto the main road and taxied to the casa voyager train station. We purchased our 2:50 tickets to Casablanca - refueled on fresh chicken rolls, tea and the ever essential traveling chocolate supply, where I was kindly offered to have my shoes shined again! As we waited on platform 2 our train seemed to be delayed - so Pia went and double checked the info and managed to make a new BFF with the conductor. As I had questionable young men mutter to me under their breathe in French, asking who knows what - Pia came back updating me on her new discoveries and before we knew it Pia's new friend Mohammed appeared with a timetable and his phone number for in case we were in Casablanca again. After a quick photo shoot he lead us further down the platform where we squeezed into one of the many carriages bound for Marrakech. Thankfully by the second stop we were able to wander down the aisle and find a very comfy seat for the remainder of the 3 hour journey! Upon arrival at Marrakech we quickly got our bearings compliments of a local girl and quickly worked out how much our cab ride would be.... She quote 15dhs, we guessed we'd be told 60dhs which was the case... so we matched him half way at 30dhs - lucky Mr Taxi driver. Once we got to the outskirts of Dejeema Plaza we kindly had a local, offer us directions to the Riad we were staying in. We were glad he did since it was a mini maze and no way would we have made it there in 5 minutes, it easily would have been more like 30. Once checked in we made our way to the central market where the aromas of local cuisine lured us in. Surrounding the main plaza were fruit and nut stalls and within there were a good hundred stalls serving an array of local food - from tagines to snails. After being hit with numerous rhyming bingo terms like 'come to 117 it's like heaven' to dine at one of the stalls. We were eventually persuaded by the Moroccan who put on his Aussie accent, 'Summer Heights High'. Of course the peer pressure from the fellow restauranteurs clapping with the chefs had nothing to do with coercing us to stall 110. Immediately we out out order in and munch on pickled olives, grilled eggplant, soup, couscous and tagine... Nom nom nom!! All for a ridiculously cheap price. With our fully bellies we wandered through the stalls and chatted to the shop keepers as they shut up shop and we made our way back home.
By 9am we were showered, feed and ready to explore the city. First port of call was the port, only since it was the closest bearing to our hotel. From there we headed along the coast to Hassan II Mosque which was located right on the water. The exterior of the mosque was covered in vibrant greens and blues. In the distance waves could be heard crashing against the rocks, a rare and nice experience in comparing visiting mosques located in the UAE. From there we roamed inland and explored the city centre - we managed to wander past the palace, judicial courts, the old police station where the clock tower was set to the wrong time. Along with the post office and bank decked out in traditional mosaics. By this time we were ready for some traditional Moroccan tea. Like any local we found a cafe and settled ourselves down amongst the men on the side street, watching life go by. It was at this point we discovered how my black converse shoes were a magnet for the shoe shiners. Six shoe shiners later in a 45 minute window... If they weren't canvas shoes lads I'd be more than happy to experience your shoe shining skills. After our sugar fix, onward bound to the central markets where we wandered through stalls filled with random knickknacks - nothing was appealing apart from the kilos or dried fruit and nuts. By midday we made out way back in the direction of our hotel which was located within the medina. As we wandered in and out of the small alleys we managed to land ourselves amongst at least one hundred men as they finished the call to prayer - spot the white females. They were friendly and harmless enough and as we followed the crowd they lead us in the direction of a small fruit market where we stocked up on delicious mandarins, nom nom nom! Upon arrival at our hotel we shared the mandarin love with the owner - who was a mad nutter, who like myself enjoyed talking and singing to himself, hehe! With backpacks strapped we made our way onto the main road and taxied to the casa voyager train station. We purchased our 2:50 tickets to Casablanca - refueled on fresh chicken rolls, tea and the ever essential traveling chocolate supply, where I was kindly offered to have my shoes shined again! As we waited on platform 2 our train seemed to be delayed - so Pia went and double checked the info and managed to make a new BFF with the conductor. As I had questionable young men mutter to me under their breathe in French, asking who knows what - Pia came back updating me on her new discoveries and before we knew it Pia's new friend Mohammed appeared with a timetable and his phone number for in case we were in Casablanca again. After a quick photo shoot he lead us further down the platform where we squeezed into one of the many carriages bound for Marrakech. Thankfully by the second stop we were able to wander down the aisle and find a very comfy seat for the remainder of the 3 hour journey! Upon arrival at Marrakech we quickly got our bearings compliments of a local girl and quickly worked out how much our cab ride would be.... She quote 15dhs, we guessed we'd be told 60dhs which was the case... so we matched him half way at 30dhs - lucky Mr Taxi driver. Once we got to the outskirts of Dejeema Plaza we kindly had a local, offer us directions to the Riad we were staying in. We were glad he did since it was a mini maze and no way would we have made it there in 5 minutes, it easily would have been more like 30. Once checked in we made our way to the central market where the aromas of local cuisine lured us in. Surrounding the main plaza were fruit and nut stalls and within there were a good hundred stalls serving an array of local food - from tagines to snails. After being hit with numerous rhyming bingo terms like 'come to 117 it's like heaven' to dine at one of the stalls. We were eventually persuaded by the Moroccan who put on his Aussie accent, 'Summer Heights High'. Of course the peer pressure from the fellow restauranteurs clapping with the chefs had nothing to do with coercing us to stall 110. Immediately we out out order in and munch on pickled olives, grilled eggplant, soup, couscous and tagine... Nom nom nom!! All for a ridiculously cheap price. With our fully bellies we wandered through the stalls and chatted to the shop keepers as they shut up shop and we made our way back home.
To the far northern west of Africa we go...
The final adventure of 2012... With no expectations and with nothing booked apart from the first 2 nights and the last 3 nights... Pia and I were ready to embark on our trip to Morocco where we aim to travel overland with a ferry ride included through Spain and finishing in Lisbon, Portugal. We rendevouzed at Dubai Marina Mall where we caught the Etihad bus to Abu Dhabi - too easy. Once at the airport we breezed through immigration and found time to fit in a cuppa tea. The last thing I expected to hear was 'Hello Miss Hughes' ...low and behold there was one of our colleagues students - you can run but you can't hide. Before the plane had even taken off I was unconscious in need of catching up on some serious Zzzzz's. at least 7 of the 8 hour flight I spent dreaming. Pia managed to watch close to 3 movies and get up to date on the most popular commercials of 2012. As we landed in Casablanca we were greeted by fresh winter air, thankfully not as cold as we expected. Luckily we quickly made it through immigration, collected our backpacks and purchased our train tickets to the centre of town. An hour later we were sitting in a red 'petit' taxi with a midget arguing on how much to pay for our ride. With neither of us budging and no sign of the meter coming on we decided on a much more reasonable price. Soon we were @ Hotel Central fist pumping the owner talking Arabic, French and English. I can see why it has been the most popular hotel 3 years running. As we wandered up the windy staircase our thoughts were on getting a goodnight rest, ready to explore Casablanca and come up with an exit strategy to Marrakech.
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