I woke up this morning with an overpowering desire to break wind. That doesn’t happen very often so I waited until I was safely seated on the biffy before letting fly. It was a good thing I waited, because that was the start of a bout of “Delhi belly”, for want of a better phrase. I managed to go downstairs and have some breakfast, but had to bow out of the offer to go for a walk around town.
I decided to hole up in the room and finish this blog, which I’ve been neglecting the entire trip, while my intestinal tract figured itself out. One thing I haven’t enjoyed about this tour is the lack of free time. In every other tour I’ve taken we’ve arrived at our destinations in the early afternoon, which meant we had two or three hours to write in our journals, read, swim in the pool, and otherwise chill the frak out. On this tour we’ve been on the go non-stop every day from 8:30am to 8:30pm. I’ve enjoyed what we’ve seen of the country but if – or when – I come back I won’t spend as much time on the road. I’ll also make sure there is more down time at the various layovers.
We stay at the hotel until 10:30pm tonight when our poor bus driver, Hisham, comes to collect us and drop us off at the airport. As I mentioned earlier, we should have ended our tour in Marrakech instead of coming back up to Casablanca. Hisham drove us here yesterday afternoon, stayed overnight, and has to wait around all damned day just to drive us 15km to the airport tonight. Meanwhile, I’m sure he’d much rather be at home in Marrakech with his family, preparing for the festival this weekend.
Oh yes, the festival. Tomorrow is Aid el-Kebir, a festival to commemorate the day when Abraham was prepared to sacrifice his son Isaac but Allah interceded and replaced Isaac with a lamb. So, every year at this time families buy a lamb or sheep and slaughter it. So, all week we’ve seen people selecting and transporting their lamb or sheep. The transportation is the most interesting. We’ve seen pushcarts with sheep in them, men on bicycles or scooters carrying their trussed-up sheep across their laps, sheep in trucks, sheep in the trunks of cars, sheep in the back seat of a fancy Mercedes, sheep, sheep, sheep. It was an unexpected addition to the cultural and religious experience of Morocco.
Well, I’ll sign off for now. It’s time for a nap.
27.11.09
26.11.09
MARRAKECH to CASABLANCA
We had free time in the morning to explore Marrakech further, but none of us felt up to heading into the medina by ourselves. A few people from the tour went for a walk. I had planned to go swimming in the grand pool at the hotel but decided against it because of my head cold. So, instead, I stayed inside and downloaded photos from my camera to my computer. Thanks to the hugely efficient Canon EOS utility software, it took around 3 hours to download 500 photos.
We had lunch at the hotel and then piled onto the bus for the drive to Casablanca. I’m not sure what our tour agents were smoking when they figured out the agenda for our trip, but for some reason we have to fly out of Casablanca when there is a perfectly acceptable airport in Marrakech with daily flights to major airports in Europe. We could have stayed another day in Marrakech and enjoyed the services at the hotel there, but instead we had to take the damned bus to Casablanca. There’s not much to do in Casablanca so we just drank wine in the hotel bar, had a grossly overpriced dinner at the hotel, and headed for bed.
We had lunch at the hotel and then piled onto the bus for the drive to Casablanca. I’m not sure what our tour agents were smoking when they figured out the agenda for our trip, but for some reason we have to fly out of Casablanca when there is a perfectly acceptable airport in Marrakech with daily flights to major airports in Europe. We could have stayed another day in Marrakech and enjoyed the services at the hotel there, but instead we had to take the damned bus to Casablanca. There’s not much to do in Casablanca so we just drank wine in the hotel bar, had a grossly overpriced dinner at the hotel, and headed for bed.
25.11.09
MARRAKECH
We started our day tour of Marrakech at 10am. Our first stop was the Koutoubia Minaret, a large minaret that is part of the Koutoubia Mosque. Of course we could only view the mosque and the minaret from the outside. From there we went to the Menara Gardens, which were quite dusty and barren and disappointing.
Our driver dropped us off inside the medina and we walked to the Bahia Palace. The palace is outrageously large with numerous complexes. Unfortunately there was some bizarre modern art exhibition being held there so the rooms were fouled with ridiculous video installations, scabby statues, oversized furniture, car doors, and paintings that look like they were created by someone’s cat.
Thankfully we didn’t spend much time at the Bahia Palace. We walked back to the bus and went to the Majorelle Botanical Gardens, which were purchased and expanded by Yves Saint Laurent. His remains are actually entombed there, which seemed a bit odd at first. I didn’t find the gardens that interesting but did my best to take a few arty shots of the colorful ceramic pots and the aloof cacti.
A large majority of the ladies in the group wanted to go shopping in the medina but Ibrahim didn’t want them to get scammed so he arranged for us to visit a crafts super marche instead. It was a vast complex on three floors where you could find everything from the cheesiest tourist kitsch to beautiful antique Berber jewelry. Mom and I found ourselves on the third floor – the antiquities floor – with a very friendly salesman who took us on a personal tour of the various items for sale. We both greatly admired the Berber jewelry, as well as the elaborate items gifted to brides and grooms upon their marriage.
The ladies stowed their purchases on the bus and then Ibrahim took us for a special lunch at a Berber restaurant where we had b’stilla pie, which I can only describe as a phyllo calzone stuffed with chicken, lentils, and rice and flavored with cinnamon and honey. It wasn’t my favorite meal of the trip, but it was interesting.
After lunch Ibrahim led us deep into the medina. He hired another “local guide”, Mohamed, to be rear guard and make sure no one was pickpocketed, harassed, or lost along the narrow and twisting laneways. It was almost impossible to take pictures on the walk through the medina because of the sheer number of people and animals in the laneways, the vast array of goods for sale that were hanging from every nook and cranny, and because Ibrahim set a pretty fast pace – possibly to deter anyone from shopping.
We did stop for a while at a spice merchant’s shop. We were led inside to a large private room where the spice merchant and two assistants introduced us to various spices and herbal remedies. One of the herbal remedies was a mix of spices and herbs that you smell to clear your sinuses. It’s also supposed to help with migraines and asthma. The merchant also brought out natural perfumes and cosmetics for everyone to try. It was a very pleasant stop and everyone bought something. I bought a 35-spice mix for cooking and the sinus/headache/asthma remedy. Mom bought the spice mix, saffron, and a jar of argon hand lotion.
After visiting the spice merchant Ibrahim led us through some more quarters in the medina. My favorite was the blacksmith’s quarter. I really wanted to stay and take pictures but Mohamed ushered me through there pretty quickly, perhaps sensing some bad juju from the locals. A few twists and turns later, Ibrahim stopped us in a relatively safe area of the medina and let us wander free for 30 minutes. Mom and I trundled off down a laneway for a bit and then turned around. Unfortunately, we missed a turn and ended up in an unfamiliar part of the medina. We retraced our steps and after a couple of hits and misses we finally found our way back to the meeting point.
For dinner that night we drove out to what I can only describe as “Moroccan Disneyland” for dinner and a show. The singers and small drum troupes were loud and annoying. The wait staff seemed angry to be there and truly disgruntled when you ordered drinks. The food, when it arrived, was pretty horrible. For example, we were served what looked like a quarter of a lamb. However, we could only scrape a few pieces of meat from the bones and skin. By the end of dinner we were all pretty annoyed and just wanted to leave but our guide Ibrahim encouraged us to stay and watch the show.
I buggered off and wandered out into the dark parking lot, which was full of tour buses. I enjoyed looking into the dimly-lit buses where drivers were reading, snoozing, playing cards, or gambling. A local dog was my only company. I would have been content to stay out there until our scheduled departure time but Ibrahim sent our driver, Hisham, out to collect me and return me to the “safety” of Moroccan Disneyland. I found a place away from the performers and surly staff and waited until I saw our group heading out to the bus. They’d watched a few minutes of the show and decided to call it a night. Ibrahim was a bit disappointed in us, but at the same time it was after 11pm and I’m sure that he and Hisham were more than happy to call it a night. So, we drove in near silence back to the hotel and headed to bed, where we all had nightmares about grisly lamb and angry Moroccan waiters.
Our driver dropped us off inside the medina and we walked to the Bahia Palace. The palace is outrageously large with numerous complexes. Unfortunately there was some bizarre modern art exhibition being held there so the rooms were fouled with ridiculous video installations, scabby statues, oversized furniture, car doors, and paintings that look like they were created by someone’s cat.
Thankfully we didn’t spend much time at the Bahia Palace. We walked back to the bus and went to the Majorelle Botanical Gardens, which were purchased and expanded by Yves Saint Laurent. His remains are actually entombed there, which seemed a bit odd at first. I didn’t find the gardens that interesting but did my best to take a few arty shots of the colorful ceramic pots and the aloof cacti.
A large majority of the ladies in the group wanted to go shopping in the medina but Ibrahim didn’t want them to get scammed so he arranged for us to visit a crafts super marche instead. It was a vast complex on three floors where you could find everything from the cheesiest tourist kitsch to beautiful antique Berber jewelry. Mom and I found ourselves on the third floor – the antiquities floor – with a very friendly salesman who took us on a personal tour of the various items for sale. We both greatly admired the Berber jewelry, as well as the elaborate items gifted to brides and grooms upon their marriage.
The ladies stowed their purchases on the bus and then Ibrahim took us for a special lunch at a Berber restaurant where we had b’stilla pie, which I can only describe as a phyllo calzone stuffed with chicken, lentils, and rice and flavored with cinnamon and honey. It wasn’t my favorite meal of the trip, but it was interesting.
After lunch Ibrahim led us deep into the medina. He hired another “local guide”, Mohamed, to be rear guard and make sure no one was pickpocketed, harassed, or lost along the narrow and twisting laneways. It was almost impossible to take pictures on the walk through the medina because of the sheer number of people and animals in the laneways, the vast array of goods for sale that were hanging from every nook and cranny, and because Ibrahim set a pretty fast pace – possibly to deter anyone from shopping.
We did stop for a while at a spice merchant’s shop. We were led inside to a large private room where the spice merchant and two assistants introduced us to various spices and herbal remedies. One of the herbal remedies was a mix of spices and herbs that you smell to clear your sinuses. It’s also supposed to help with migraines and asthma. The merchant also brought out natural perfumes and cosmetics for everyone to try. It was a very pleasant stop and everyone bought something. I bought a 35-spice mix for cooking and the sinus/headache/asthma remedy. Mom bought the spice mix, saffron, and a jar of argon hand lotion.
After visiting the spice merchant Ibrahim led us through some more quarters in the medina. My favorite was the blacksmith’s quarter. I really wanted to stay and take pictures but Mohamed ushered me through there pretty quickly, perhaps sensing some bad juju from the locals. A few twists and turns later, Ibrahim stopped us in a relatively safe area of the medina and let us wander free for 30 minutes. Mom and I trundled off down a laneway for a bit and then turned around. Unfortunately, we missed a turn and ended up in an unfamiliar part of the medina. We retraced our steps and after a couple of hits and misses we finally found our way back to the meeting point.
For dinner that night we drove out to what I can only describe as “Moroccan Disneyland” for dinner and a show. The singers and small drum troupes were loud and annoying. The wait staff seemed angry to be there and truly disgruntled when you ordered drinks. The food, when it arrived, was pretty horrible. For example, we were served what looked like a quarter of a lamb. However, we could only scrape a few pieces of meat from the bones and skin. By the end of dinner we were all pretty annoyed and just wanted to leave but our guide Ibrahim encouraged us to stay and watch the show.
I buggered off and wandered out into the dark parking lot, which was full of tour buses. I enjoyed looking into the dimly-lit buses where drivers were reading, snoozing, playing cards, or gambling. A local dog was my only company. I would have been content to stay out there until our scheduled departure time but Ibrahim sent our driver, Hisham, out to collect me and return me to the “safety” of Moroccan Disneyland. I found a place away from the performers and surly staff and waited until I saw our group heading out to the bus. They’d watched a few minutes of the show and decided to call it a night. Ibrahim was a bit disappointed in us, but at the same time it was after 11pm and I’m sure that he and Hisham were more than happy to call it a night. So, we drove in near silence back to the hotel and headed to bed, where we all had nightmares about grisly lamb and angry Moroccan waiters.
24.11.09
TAROUDANT to MARRAKECH
This was our last long road trip of the trip. We only had to cover 250km, but the road was a single lane and wound up and up and up into the High Atlas Mountains. Passing other cars was fantastically scary but thankfully there wasn’t much traffic on the road.
We had a few photo stops along the way to break up the trip. At one of the stops Lorraine made a “technical stop”. A few kilometers (and a few hundred meters higher) she felt car sick and unfortunately she didn’t ask the driver to pull over until it was too late. We did the best we could to help her clean up – and to clean up the bus. Sadly, there was no option but to continue driving. After much urging she did agree to ride at the front of the bus where she could see outside the front window. That seemed to help and she had no further problems.
Another stop was the Tinmel Mosque, a disused mosque that is one of the oldest in Morocco. It was spectacularly beautiful, even in a state of decline. I couldn’t imagine how amazing it must’ve been when it was a working mosque.
We arrived in Marrakech in the early evening. We had a slow drive through the medina but didn’t get out of the bus. After we checked in at the hotel some of the people in our group went on a horse carriage ride around and through the medina. However, Mom and I were quite tired – and I was starting to develop a head cold – so we stayed in and had an early night.
We had a few photo stops along the way to break up the trip. At one of the stops Lorraine made a “technical stop”. A few kilometers (and a few hundred meters higher) she felt car sick and unfortunately she didn’t ask the driver to pull over until it was too late. We did the best we could to help her clean up – and to clean up the bus. Sadly, there was no option but to continue driving. After much urging she did agree to ride at the front of the bus where she could see outside the front window. That seemed to help and she had no further problems.
Another stop was the Tinmel Mosque, a disused mosque that is one of the oldest in Morocco. It was spectacularly beautiful, even in a state of decline. I couldn’t imagine how amazing it must’ve been when it was a working mosque.
We arrived in Marrakech in the early evening. We had a slow drive through the medina but didn’t get out of the bus. After we checked in at the hotel some of the people in our group went on a horse carriage ride around and through the medina. However, Mom and I were quite tired – and I was starting to develop a head cold – so we stayed in and had an early night.
23.11.09
OUARZAZATE to TAROUDANT
Once again, it was a long day on the bus. On the way to Taroudant we stopped at Ait Bin Haddou, an ancient ksar that you can only access by crossing a wadi (river basin). Luckily for us the river was quite low and there were stepping stones that we could use to cross.
We had a local guide, whose name I can’t remember, who led us through the ksar and told us about various repairs made by UNESCO in the past few years. Hundreds of people used to live in the ksar but now only eight Bedouin families live there year-round. Most of the structures in the ksar have been converted to small shops where vendors peddle the typical tourist items. However, there are a few locals artisans who sell weavings and paintings.
You can climb to the top of the ksar where there is a watch tower that provides a picturesque view of the entire valley. It was a bit of a lung-buster (for me, at least) to get to the top but it was well worth the effort. Part of the problem with climbing up to the tower was the goat-like manner with which our guide skipped up the stairs and slopes. He must have been in his 60s but he was bloody impossible to keep up with.
On the way to Taroudant we also pulled over to observe “goats in trees”. It’s exactly as it sounds – apparently this part of Morocco is famous for its goats, which climb into the trees to eat the leaves when there are no other shrubs or plants to eat on the ground. I think I took about 100 photos of the little buggers scampering around in the branches, but unfortunately the photos didn’t turn out very well because as soon as I got close enough to a tree to take a good photo the goats would jump out and run away. You need a proper telephoto lens to capture them “in the act”, so to speak.
We arrived in Taroudant in the early evening and our guide led us on a quick tour of the souks. The traffic was absolutely astounding. We had barely stepped off the bus when we were nearly struck by speeding scooters and donkey carts. I tried to take street shots that captured the chaos but it was hard to get a static image that properly conveyed the chaos. (If – or when – I return to Morocco I’m bringing a small video camera just so I can take videos of the streets.)
We had a local guide, whose name I can’t remember, who led us through the ksar and told us about various repairs made by UNESCO in the past few years. Hundreds of people used to live in the ksar but now only eight Bedouin families live there year-round. Most of the structures in the ksar have been converted to small shops where vendors peddle the typical tourist items. However, there are a few locals artisans who sell weavings and paintings.
You can climb to the top of the ksar where there is a watch tower that provides a picturesque view of the entire valley. It was a bit of a lung-buster (for me, at least) to get to the top but it was well worth the effort. Part of the problem with climbing up to the tower was the goat-like manner with which our guide skipped up the stairs and slopes. He must have been in his 60s but he was bloody impossible to keep up with.
On the way to Taroudant we also pulled over to observe “goats in trees”. It’s exactly as it sounds – apparently this part of Morocco is famous for its goats, which climb into the trees to eat the leaves when there are no other shrubs or plants to eat on the ground. I think I took about 100 photos of the little buggers scampering around in the branches, but unfortunately the photos didn’t turn out very well because as soon as I got close enough to a tree to take a good photo the goats would jump out and run away. You need a proper telephoto lens to capture them “in the act”, so to speak.
We arrived in Taroudant in the early evening and our guide led us on a quick tour of the souks. The traffic was absolutely astounding. We had barely stepped off the bus when we were nearly struck by speeding scooters and donkey carts. I tried to take street shots that captured the chaos but it was hard to get a static image that properly conveyed the chaos. (If – or when – I return to Morocco I’m bringing a small video camera just so I can take videos of the streets.)
22.11.09
ERFOUD to OUARZAZATE
It was another long road trip today. We stopped beside the highway at one point to admire the deep wells dug centuries ago to bring water from the High Atlas Mountains to the desert. Today the wells are largely empty but there are some world heritage groups that are planning to reinvigorate the wells so that they function again.
We also pulled over when we spotted a herd of camels. A woman and her young daughter came running over to ask for money, which we duly handed over. Our driver, Hisham, also gave the young girl a sweet sticky bun, which she happily bit into.
I could be wrong, but I think we also stopped to admire the Dades Valley, an oasis-like valley filled with palm trees and small farm plots. While taking photos our bus was mobbed by vendors wanting to sell us everything from photos with a camel to fossils to scarves and jewelry. There were still holding out goods as we drove away.
We had lunch at a restaurant in the Todra Gorges. Unfortunately several other tour buses pulled up and disgorged swarms of tourists, which made it difficult to get an unspoiled picture of the gorges and the surrounding area. I wandered up the road a bit after lunch and received compliments on my tattoo from several vendors. (Contrary to my expectations, Moroccans quite like my tattoo. It’s been quite a conversation starter on the trip.) I had a good chat with one vendor about Berber tattoos. As far as I can tell, only Berber women get tattoos. They are typically facial tattoos that identify their tribe or region.
We arrived at Ouarzazate (WHER-za-zat) quite late and really only had time to have a quick shower before heading to dinner and then to bed.
We also pulled over when we spotted a herd of camels. A woman and her young daughter came running over to ask for money, which we duly handed over. Our driver, Hisham, also gave the young girl a sweet sticky bun, which she happily bit into.
I could be wrong, but I think we also stopped to admire the Dades Valley, an oasis-like valley filled with palm trees and small farm plots. While taking photos our bus was mobbed by vendors wanting to sell us everything from photos with a camel to fossils to scarves and jewelry. There were still holding out goods as we drove away.
We had lunch at a restaurant in the Todra Gorges. Unfortunately several other tour buses pulled up and disgorged swarms of tourists, which made it difficult to get an unspoiled picture of the gorges and the surrounding area. I wandered up the road a bit after lunch and received compliments on my tattoo from several vendors. (Contrary to my expectations, Moroccans quite like my tattoo. It’s been quite a conversation starter on the trip.) I had a good chat with one vendor about Berber tattoos. As far as I can tell, only Berber women get tattoos. They are typically facial tattoos that identify their tribe or region.
We arrived at Ouarzazate (WHER-za-zat) quite late and really only had time to have a quick shower before heading to dinner and then to bed.
21.11.09
ERFOUD
According to our original itinerary we were supposed to get up at 3:30am for a 4x4 ride out into the desert and then a camel ride up into the dunes to watch the sun rise. Our guide, Ibrahim, suggested that we reschedule the camel tour to the evening, which we all agreed would be a much better idea!
So, in the morning we went to a “fossil” factory instead. Back in the day, the entire region was underwater. So, there are a lot of preserved sea creatures in the rocks around Erfoud. One of the city’s main industries now is digging up rocks containing these fossilized sea creatures and then cutting the rocks into various things like tables, sinks, statues, etc. where you can clearly see the fossils.
It was quite fascinating to see the workshop where the men cut and polished the rocks. They were a bit peeved because they had to stop production while we were touring the facility. (The dust from the cutting and sanding is pretty ferocious.) Also, they didn’t particularly like us taking photos of them. (Oh, well – if the boss says it’s okay, I will take photos as I please.)
I won’t spoil the surprise for my sister, but I did pick up a couple of things in the fossil shop. Again, I didn’t really bargain before laying down my credit card. I know I paid too much because the salesman came up to me later and gave me a bunch of pendants for free.
From there we drove to Rissani where we stopped at a beautiful mosque – at least, I think it was a mosque. Anyway, it had a beautiful inner courtyard full of palm trees and fountains. The dates were covered with cloth to protect them from birds, small rodents, and the worst date-stealers of all, humans.
From there we drove to the Oulad Abdelhalim Ksar, a walled fortress where the sultan used to keep his older brides and from which he conducted his business in the southern regions. The ksar is largely ruined but a few Berber families still live there. Our guide led us to the home of an older Berber woman who let us come into her home. She didn’t want her photo taken because of old beliefs about cameras stealing your soul, so we limited ourselves to capturing the essence of her home – the cooking area, the dates drying in the sun, the cat lounging under the palm tree, the laundry hanging on the line. We left her a few hundred dirham as thanks and she was very grateful. Our guide told us later that in a few days there was a major celebration and the woman would use the money to buy flour and sugar and salt to make cakes for her family and guests.
We returned to our hotel around 2pm for a quick change into camel-worthy clothing. Two 4x4 Toyota Land Cruisers picked us up at 3pm and took us on an hour-long ride out into the desert to the oasis of Merzouga. It was quite a bumpy ride but very fun. At the oasis we mounted our camels and started an hour-long trek out into the Erg Chebbi dunes.
The camel ride that Mom and I went on in Tunisia was nowhere near as amazing as the camel ride into the Erg Chebbi dunes. For instance, there were DUNES! In Tunisia we just rode our camels out to a flat spot in the sand and rock desert. More importantly, we rode for a long, long time on the camels. In Tunisia we had a slow 30-minute ride out into the desert and a perfunctory 15-minute ride back.
The sunsets in Morocco aren’t as impressive as they are in other parts of the world. The sun descends very quickly to the horizon and disappears in less than a minute. There is no red or orange glow lighting up the sky afterwards. So, you have to take your pictures quickly and then get the hell out of dodge before it becomes completely dark out.
We got to experience one more thing on the dunes – Berber skiing. This involves sitting on a blanket and being pulled down the dune by your guide. Mom skied down the dune on one blanket while Sandra and Leikny skied down the dune on the other blanket.
We said goodbye to our camels at Merzouga and made the long and bumpy ride back to our hotel in the Toyota Land Cruisers. We all headed to our rooms to de-sand and shower before dinner. Mom collected about 1 cup of red desert sand from her shoes alone.
So, in the morning we went to a “fossil” factory instead. Back in the day, the entire region was underwater. So, there are a lot of preserved sea creatures in the rocks around Erfoud. One of the city’s main industries now is digging up rocks containing these fossilized sea creatures and then cutting the rocks into various things like tables, sinks, statues, etc. where you can clearly see the fossils.
It was quite fascinating to see the workshop where the men cut and polished the rocks. They were a bit peeved because they had to stop production while we were touring the facility. (The dust from the cutting and sanding is pretty ferocious.) Also, they didn’t particularly like us taking photos of them. (Oh, well – if the boss says it’s okay, I will take photos as I please.)
I won’t spoil the surprise for my sister, but I did pick up a couple of things in the fossil shop. Again, I didn’t really bargain before laying down my credit card. I know I paid too much because the salesman came up to me later and gave me a bunch of pendants for free.
From there we drove to Rissani where we stopped at a beautiful mosque – at least, I think it was a mosque. Anyway, it had a beautiful inner courtyard full of palm trees and fountains. The dates were covered with cloth to protect them from birds, small rodents, and the worst date-stealers of all, humans.
From there we drove to the Oulad Abdelhalim Ksar, a walled fortress where the sultan used to keep his older brides and from which he conducted his business in the southern regions. The ksar is largely ruined but a few Berber families still live there. Our guide led us to the home of an older Berber woman who let us come into her home. She didn’t want her photo taken because of old beliefs about cameras stealing your soul, so we limited ourselves to capturing the essence of her home – the cooking area, the dates drying in the sun, the cat lounging under the palm tree, the laundry hanging on the line. We left her a few hundred dirham as thanks and she was very grateful. Our guide told us later that in a few days there was a major celebration and the woman would use the money to buy flour and sugar and salt to make cakes for her family and guests.
We returned to our hotel around 2pm for a quick change into camel-worthy clothing. Two 4x4 Toyota Land Cruisers picked us up at 3pm and took us on an hour-long ride out into the desert to the oasis of Merzouga. It was quite a bumpy ride but very fun. At the oasis we mounted our camels and started an hour-long trek out into the Erg Chebbi dunes.
The camel ride that Mom and I went on in Tunisia was nowhere near as amazing as the camel ride into the Erg Chebbi dunes. For instance, there were DUNES! In Tunisia we just rode our camels out to a flat spot in the sand and rock desert. More importantly, we rode for a long, long time on the camels. In Tunisia we had a slow 30-minute ride out into the desert and a perfunctory 15-minute ride back.
The sunsets in Morocco aren’t as impressive as they are in other parts of the world. The sun descends very quickly to the horizon and disappears in less than a minute. There is no red or orange glow lighting up the sky afterwards. So, you have to take your pictures quickly and then get the hell out of dodge before it becomes completely dark out.
We got to experience one more thing on the dunes – Berber skiing. This involves sitting on a blanket and being pulled down the dune by your guide. Mom skied down the dune on one blanket while Sandra and Leikny skied down the dune on the other blanket.
We said goodbye to our camels at Merzouga and made the long and bumpy ride back to our hotel in the Toyota Land Cruisers. We all headed to our rooms to de-sand and shower before dinner. Mom collected about 1 cup of red desert sand from her shoes alone.
20.11.09
FES to ERFOUD
We left Fes early and hit the road for Erfoud, which is about 400kms south east of Fes and fairly close to the Algerian border. We had a lot of stops in the mountains to take photos of the river valleys and so on, but it was largely just a long road trip. We stopped in one village to take photos of a ksar, or fortified village, and got mobbed by local children. That was quite fun. I also befriended a “Kitler” at one of the gas station rest stops. I wanted to bundle him up and take him home with me, he was such a friendly fellow.
Our hotel in Erfoud, the Xaluca, was pretty amazing. It reminded me a lot of the hotel we stayed at in Douz in Tunisia. It had a really strong desert theme and a gorgeous swimming pool in the center of the hotel complex. As soon as we got to our room and collected our luggage from the porter, I dug out my swimsuit and hit the pool.
Of course, it took a few tries to get my full body into the pool. It was a balmy 12C night but the pool had cooled off substantially since the afternoon and it felt like I was wading into ice water at first. When I finally dove in it was a shock but I got over it in a minute or two. It was magical to swim in the lighted pool, at night, all by myself.
The highlight of dinner was a wee white camel, who was led into the restaurant by his handler. He just stood there placidly while we all ooohed and aaahed. He drank from a bottle of water, then promptly pooped on the carpet. The staff discretely swept up the mess, and after a few more minutes of paparazzi flash bulbs the handler turned the baby camel around and led him out and, I assume, home for the night.
Our hotel in Erfoud, the Xaluca, was pretty amazing. It reminded me a lot of the hotel we stayed at in Douz in Tunisia. It had a really strong desert theme and a gorgeous swimming pool in the center of the hotel complex. As soon as we got to our room and collected our luggage from the porter, I dug out my swimsuit and hit the pool.
Of course, it took a few tries to get my full body into the pool. It was a balmy 12C night but the pool had cooled off substantially since the afternoon and it felt like I was wading into ice water at first. When I finally dove in it was a shock but I got over it in a minute or two. It was magical to swim in the lighted pool, at night, all by myself.
The highlight of dinner was a wee white camel, who was led into the restaurant by his handler. He just stood there placidly while we all ooohed and aaahed. He drank from a bottle of water, then promptly pooped on the carpet. The staff discretely swept up the mess, and after a few more minutes of paparazzi flash bulbs the handler turned the baby camel around and led him out and, I assume, home for the night.
19.11.09
FES
We were up and at ‘em early for a full-day tour of Fes, the first Imperial city of Morocco. Our first stop was the ceramics quarter where craftsmen made all kinds of decorative or household ceramics. I was most impressed with the men making the mosaic table tops. What a completely time-consuming job that is! The co-operative store that we visited afterwards had an overwhelming selection of ceramics for sale.
Most of the ladies on the tour wanted to buy tajines, so they were occupied with tajine shopping at one end of the store. I wasn’t planning to buy anything – I always buy pottery and always have a bitch of a time getting it home – so I just wandered about. Then, a bowl caught my eye. Then I saw a couple of matching little bowls. Six bowls later I excused myself from the shop for fear of going on a complete pottery bender.
After our pottery was safely stored in the tour bus, our guide took us on a walking tour through the Fes medina. I thought I’d seen some pretty amazing souks and medinas in Tunisia, so nothing prepared me for the complete onslaught of smells, noise, people, and animals in the Fes medina. You had to have eyes in the back of your head to avoid being trampled by the hurrying locals or the galloping donkeys laden with goods. Thankfully we had a “local guide”, Abdul, to bring up the rear and make sure everyone made it through the medina safely. Abdul was a local who had lived in the medina all of his life and was basically hired to keep us safe from pickpockets and aggressive vendors.
Initially we wandered through the dyer’s quarter, the leatherworker’s quarter, and then some general quarters where vendors sold a range of things. We stopped at one mosque that we were able to enter. I think it was the El-Attarine Medersa. Most mosques are closed to non-Muslims, which I totally agree with, and our guide told us that Fes was particularly strict about the non-Muslim rule because of abuses by the French in the past. We got a glimpse or two inside the Karaouiyine Mosque, one of the oldest mosques in North Africa. It also functions as a university.
We had the obligatory stop at a rug store where we were tempted to buy rugs, but the cost drove us out without any purchases. There was a particularly handsome kilim that I loved but I just couldn’t bring myself to shell out $800 for it.
We made one final stop before lunch – the tanneries. These are great earthen pots dug into the ground where raw hides are soaked in dyes and then dried in the sun. We were given sprigs of fresh mint before entering the tanneries to help with the smell, but it inevitably seeped around the mint and assaulted your nose and sensibilities. It was fascinating to watch the men labor in the tanneries, though, and the co-operative leather shop did have some lovely things for sale. I found the salesmen to be a bit too aggressive for my liking, though, and left the shop as soon as I could.
After lunch in the medina we walked a little further. Our guide, Ibrahim, took us to a cloth co-operative where we all went crazy over the silk blankets they had for sale for less than $40. He had to pry us out of there so we could continue our tour. We also visited a dress shop where some of the women dressed up in proper jellabas and caftans.
On our way out of the medina we stopped at the Najarin Fountain and the Musee Nejjarine, which was just next door. The building had previously been used as a caravanserai, which is a place where traders could stop and find shelter and food for themselves and their animals. The museum contained an impressive collection of household items and tools collected from the times of the caravanserai.
Our final stops for the day were the Merenid Tombs and the Royal Palace. No one goes to the Merenid Tombs to see the tombs – instead, they go for the view of the Fes medina, which is quite impressive. The Royal Palace was pretty boring. You can only look at it from the outside. So, yes, there were some pretty doors and arches but it really wasn’t worth the time and effort to go see it.
Most of the ladies on the tour wanted to buy tajines, so they were occupied with tajine shopping at one end of the store. I wasn’t planning to buy anything – I always buy pottery and always have a bitch of a time getting it home – so I just wandered about. Then, a bowl caught my eye. Then I saw a couple of matching little bowls. Six bowls later I excused myself from the shop for fear of going on a complete pottery bender.
After our pottery was safely stored in the tour bus, our guide took us on a walking tour through the Fes medina. I thought I’d seen some pretty amazing souks and medinas in Tunisia, so nothing prepared me for the complete onslaught of smells, noise, people, and animals in the Fes medina. You had to have eyes in the back of your head to avoid being trampled by the hurrying locals or the galloping donkeys laden with goods. Thankfully we had a “local guide”, Abdul, to bring up the rear and make sure everyone made it through the medina safely. Abdul was a local who had lived in the medina all of his life and was basically hired to keep us safe from pickpockets and aggressive vendors.
Initially we wandered through the dyer’s quarter, the leatherworker’s quarter, and then some general quarters where vendors sold a range of things. We stopped at one mosque that we were able to enter. I think it was the El-Attarine Medersa. Most mosques are closed to non-Muslims, which I totally agree with, and our guide told us that Fes was particularly strict about the non-Muslim rule because of abuses by the French in the past. We got a glimpse or two inside the Karaouiyine Mosque, one of the oldest mosques in North Africa. It also functions as a university.
We had the obligatory stop at a rug store where we were tempted to buy rugs, but the cost drove us out without any purchases. There was a particularly handsome kilim that I loved but I just couldn’t bring myself to shell out $800 for it.
We made one final stop before lunch – the tanneries. These are great earthen pots dug into the ground where raw hides are soaked in dyes and then dried in the sun. We were given sprigs of fresh mint before entering the tanneries to help with the smell, but it inevitably seeped around the mint and assaulted your nose and sensibilities. It was fascinating to watch the men labor in the tanneries, though, and the co-operative leather shop did have some lovely things for sale. I found the salesmen to be a bit too aggressive for my liking, though, and left the shop as soon as I could.
After lunch in the medina we walked a little further. Our guide, Ibrahim, took us to a cloth co-operative where we all went crazy over the silk blankets they had for sale for less than $40. He had to pry us out of there so we could continue our tour. We also visited a dress shop where some of the women dressed up in proper jellabas and caftans.
On our way out of the medina we stopped at the Najarin Fountain and the Musee Nejjarine, which was just next door. The building had previously been used as a caravanserai, which is a place where traders could stop and find shelter and food for themselves and their animals. The museum contained an impressive collection of household items and tools collected from the times of the caravanserai.
Our final stops for the day were the Merenid Tombs and the Royal Palace. No one goes to the Merenid Tombs to see the tombs – instead, they go for the view of the Fes medina, which is quite impressive. The Royal Palace was pretty boring. You can only look at it from the outside. So, yes, there were some pretty doors and arches but it really wasn’t worth the time and effort to go see it.
18.11.09
MEKNES AND VOLUBILIS
We all slept like the dead in Rabat. At breakfast we all commented that we felt much more ourselves and that we were excited about what the day would bring.
What the day brought, first, was a longish drive to Meknes. Our first stop in Meknes was at one of the gates into the medina. There are typically many small entrances to a medina. However, every so often there will be a big, grand gate to impress and intimidate visitors. I’m not sure which one we stopped at, but it was quite beautiful.
Our next stop was the giant granary where Moulay Ismail stored grain for his thousands of horses and for his immediate family. Moulay Ismail was a bit of a bad-ass and liked to stockpile goods and wealth to ensure that he could outlast a prolonged assault on his kingdom.
We also stopped to admire a residence from the 17th century that now houses the Musee Dar Jamai, a museum that specializes in Moroccan arts. I loved how guys were just lounging around outside, watching the world go by. Next up was the Mausoleum of Moulay Ismail. Another tour group was visiting at the same time as us so it was hard to hear our guide’s description of the various rooms, fountains, and so on. Also, our visit ended up being quite brief because we were running a bit behind schedule.
Outside the mausoleum there was a man taking photos of the building. I tried several times to get out of his picture but always seemed to be in the way. I apologized numerous times and then finally scurried across the road. We learned later that he was a ”paparazzo” who takes photos of us tourists and then tries to sell the prints to you outside your hotel. The photos he took of me are pretty horrendous because I’m always on the run.
Our next stop was the Palais Al Ismailia where we saw a demonstration of “damascening”, or the art of hammering thin strands of silver into intricate patterns on metal plates, bowls, etc. It’s an art form from Damascus that somehow found its way to Meknes many centuries ago. Meknes is the only city in which that particular art form is practiced. I bought a lovely plate and some bracelets before I remembered to barter. Oh, well.
From there we drove to the Roman ruins of Volubilis. A local guide who spoke very little English and didn’t really give a shit took us on an abbreviated tour of the site. The highlights were the Capitol, the Triumphal Arch, and several large houses that would have been occupied by rich families. I also liked the Decumanus Maximus, a large and long road that leads directly to the Triumphal Arch.
The remains of Volubilis were our last tourist stop of the day. From there we drove straight to Fes and checked in to our hotel.
What the day brought, first, was a longish drive to Meknes. Our first stop in Meknes was at one of the gates into the medina. There are typically many small entrances to a medina. However, every so often there will be a big, grand gate to impress and intimidate visitors. I’m not sure which one we stopped at, but it was quite beautiful.
Our next stop was the giant granary where Moulay Ismail stored grain for his thousands of horses and for his immediate family. Moulay Ismail was a bit of a bad-ass and liked to stockpile goods and wealth to ensure that he could outlast a prolonged assault on his kingdom.
We also stopped to admire a residence from the 17th century that now houses the Musee Dar Jamai, a museum that specializes in Moroccan arts. I loved how guys were just lounging around outside, watching the world go by. Next up was the Mausoleum of Moulay Ismail. Another tour group was visiting at the same time as us so it was hard to hear our guide’s description of the various rooms, fountains, and so on. Also, our visit ended up being quite brief because we were running a bit behind schedule.
Outside the mausoleum there was a man taking photos of the building. I tried several times to get out of his picture but always seemed to be in the way. I apologized numerous times and then finally scurried across the road. We learned later that he was a ”paparazzo” who takes photos of us tourists and then tries to sell the prints to you outside your hotel. The photos he took of me are pretty horrendous because I’m always on the run.
Our next stop was the Palais Al Ismailia where we saw a demonstration of “damascening”, or the art of hammering thin strands of silver into intricate patterns on metal plates, bowls, etc. It’s an art form from Damascus that somehow found its way to Meknes many centuries ago. Meknes is the only city in which that particular art form is practiced. I bought a lovely plate and some bracelets before I remembered to barter. Oh, well.
From there we drove to the Roman ruins of Volubilis. A local guide who spoke very little English and didn’t really give a shit took us on an abbreviated tour of the site. The highlights were the Capitol, the Triumphal Arch, and several large houses that would have been occupied by rich families. I also liked the Decumanus Maximus, a large and long road that leads directly to the Triumphal Arch.
The remains of Volubilis were our last tourist stop of the day. From there we drove straight to Fes and checked in to our hotel.
CASABLANCA
The flight from Frankfurt to Casablanca was 3.5 hours long – at least 2 hours longer than most of us anticipated. On the plus side, there is a -1 hour time difference so although we got in at 2am, it was actually just 1am local time.
We passed through customs fairly easily. However, on the way out of customs there was one final passport check. My guard quickly assessed my dazed and confused status and proposed marriage. I politely declined but another guard came over to extol the virtues of his friend. I said I’d have to think about it and that I’d be back in two weeks. I sincerely hope my suitor is on another shift.
It was a quick drive to the hotel, thank the gods, and the hotel staff processed us very efficiently, knowing that we were on our last legs. I squeezed in a shower before bed to wash off the travel and airplane sweat. Then, I laid down in the dark and embraced oblivion.
We got to sleep in a bit the next day, meaning we didn’t leave until 10am. Our first stop was the central market, a small souk where locals buy and sell fresh meats, seafood, vegetables, and fruits. It reminded me of the souks in Tunisia, as well as the local markets in Cuba.
Our next stop was Mohamed V Square, a large square with a fountain and about 10,000 pigeons flying about. The locals buy what looks like popcorn and feed it to the pigeons. Families bring their small kids to the square, hand them a bunch of corn, and then laugh their asses off as their kids get swarmed by hungry pigeons.
From there we drove to the Royal Palace which was originally built by the French so their top officials had somewhere to wine and dine dignitaries. It was taken over by the Moroccans after independence and the King made it his palace in Casablanca.. For me, the most impressive part of the mosque was the Royal Door which is wood with brass and aluminum inlay. The doors are so huge that I couldn’t even reach the door knocker.
Our final stop before lunch was the Hassan II Mosque. It has an indoor prayer hall that can accommodate 25,000 worshipers, and many thousands more can worship outside in the huge square. It is the second largest mosque in Africa after Mecca. It was a stunning complex with the mosque in the center and buildings along the outside of the square dedicated to learning and training. The noon prayer service was about to start so we saw many people entering the mosque, and, as we left, we could hear the imam start the prayer service.
Our first lunch was at a restaurant on the seaside that specialized in fish. Our guide, Ibrahim, had called ahead and ordered a set menu of salad and white fish. It was delicious and the view was quite nice, though not spectacular because of the McDonald’s across the street.
After that we drove to Rabat. Most of us passed out in the bus and snoozed for the trip, which couldn’t have been more than an hour and a half.
In Rabat our first stop was another Royal Palace. We could only take photos from 50 meters away from the entrance, but we were allowed to take photos of the soldiers and guards, which is usually strictly forbidden.
Our next stop was the Mohamed V Mausoleum. Our guide had arranged for us to arrive just before 5pm, when the guards of the mausoleum take down the flag. The ceremony was much like any flag lowering ceremony, except the bugler was horrendous. Either that or our ears aren’t trained to recognize the mellifluous tones of Moroccan bugling.
The mausoleum was a very somber place with lots of Moroccans praying and giving thanks to the former king. We were told to use hushed tones to show respect. It was quite a beautiful place, in part because there are prayer rooms to the side where family members still come to pray.
Outside the mausoleum is the Hassan Tower, the only remaining part of a mosque that was destroyed in an earthquake in the 1700s. The builders were intending to make it the largest mosque in the world but sadly it was destroyed and now the only parts standing are the tower and some adobe walls.
Our final stop of the day was the Oudaya Kasbah, which used to be a prison or stronghold but is now a largely residential district with a few merchants. We went first to a Moorish café that our guide assured us had been operating since the 1200s. He said it was the last Moorish café in operation in Morocco. After sampling some cookies and making a “technical stop” – our guide’s way to describe a pee break – we walked through the twisting Kasbah to our bus.
We were very glad to arrive at our hotel, which was very beautiful. We were all so tired that we made a half-hearted effort to have dinner and then we all shuffled off to bed.
We passed through customs fairly easily. However, on the way out of customs there was one final passport check. My guard quickly assessed my dazed and confused status and proposed marriage. I politely declined but another guard came over to extol the virtues of his friend. I said I’d have to think about it and that I’d be back in two weeks. I sincerely hope my suitor is on another shift.
It was a quick drive to the hotel, thank the gods, and the hotel staff processed us very efficiently, knowing that we were on our last legs. I squeezed in a shower before bed to wash off the travel and airplane sweat. Then, I laid down in the dark and embraced oblivion.
We got to sleep in a bit the next day, meaning we didn’t leave until 10am. Our first stop was the central market, a small souk where locals buy and sell fresh meats, seafood, vegetables, and fruits. It reminded me of the souks in Tunisia, as well as the local markets in Cuba.
Our next stop was Mohamed V Square, a large square with a fountain and about 10,000 pigeons flying about. The locals buy what looks like popcorn and feed it to the pigeons. Families bring their small kids to the square, hand them a bunch of corn, and then laugh their asses off as their kids get swarmed by hungry pigeons.
From there we drove to the Royal Palace which was originally built by the French so their top officials had somewhere to wine and dine dignitaries. It was taken over by the Moroccans after independence and the King made it his palace in Casablanca.. For me, the most impressive part of the mosque was the Royal Door which is wood with brass and aluminum inlay. The doors are so huge that I couldn’t even reach the door knocker.
Our final stop before lunch was the Hassan II Mosque. It has an indoor prayer hall that can accommodate 25,000 worshipers, and many thousands more can worship outside in the huge square. It is the second largest mosque in Africa after Mecca. It was a stunning complex with the mosque in the center and buildings along the outside of the square dedicated to learning and training. The noon prayer service was about to start so we saw many people entering the mosque, and, as we left, we could hear the imam start the prayer service.
Our first lunch was at a restaurant on the seaside that specialized in fish. Our guide, Ibrahim, had called ahead and ordered a set menu of salad and white fish. It was delicious and the view was quite nice, though not spectacular because of the McDonald’s across the street.
After that we drove to Rabat. Most of us passed out in the bus and snoozed for the trip, which couldn’t have been more than an hour and a half.
In Rabat our first stop was another Royal Palace. We could only take photos from 50 meters away from the entrance, but we were allowed to take photos of the soldiers and guards, which is usually strictly forbidden.
Our next stop was the Mohamed V Mausoleum. Our guide had arranged for us to arrive just before 5pm, when the guards of the mausoleum take down the flag. The ceremony was much like any flag lowering ceremony, except the bugler was horrendous. Either that or our ears aren’t trained to recognize the mellifluous tones of Moroccan bugling.
The mausoleum was a very somber place with lots of Moroccans praying and giving thanks to the former king. We were told to use hushed tones to show respect. It was quite a beautiful place, in part because there are prayer rooms to the side where family members still come to pray.
Outside the mausoleum is the Hassan Tower, the only remaining part of a mosque that was destroyed in an earthquake in the 1700s. The builders were intending to make it the largest mosque in the world but sadly it was destroyed and now the only parts standing are the tower and some adobe walls.
Our final stop of the day was the Oudaya Kasbah, which used to be a prison or stronghold but is now a largely residential district with a few merchants. We went first to a Moorish café that our guide assured us had been operating since the 1200s. He said it was the last Moorish café in operation in Morocco. After sampling some cookies and making a “technical stop” – our guide’s way to describe a pee break – we walked through the twisting Kasbah to our bus.
We were very glad to arrive at our hotel, which was very beautiful. We were all so tired that we made a half-hearted effort to have dinner and then we all shuffled off to bed.
17.11.09
VICTORIA TO FRANKFURT
I’m typing this blog entry while waiting for the flight from Frankfurt to Casablanca. I’ve been awake for 20 hours now and I’m sliding inexorably into a state of consciousness that I can only describe as traveler’s delirium. The lights are too bright, the conversations are too loud, and the seats are too hard. I am staring obsessively at the clock wishing that I could bend time to my will and fast-forward to the loading and departure times.
So, what has transpired in the last 24 hours? My “day” started with packing. Yes, I’m one of those people who packs the day they depart. I like the challenge and the risk of it. I almost forgot my power adapter, but – tragedy averted! My sister picked me up, then we picked up Mom, and then we were off to the airport.
It was blowing a gale when our flight departed but I didn’t really connect the dots between that and what it can do to an aircraft until we spent 10 minutes plunging up and down in a “patch” of turbulence. (I love how “patch” minimizes the sheer horror that is turbulence.) I was holding onto the head rest of the seat ahead of me in complete inarticulate terror. I must’ve looked a sight because the stewardess, who was facing us, mouthed “Are you OK?” to me. All I could do was breathe and not scream and not blow chunks.
We had a rest at Vancouver before boarding our flight to Frankfurt. Unfortunately I was seated next to a guy who had an incredibly annoying tic – he constantly sucked air through his teeth, making a piercing whistling sound that I could hear even while wearing headphones with the volume cranked. I asked him to stop but he denied being the cause of the noise. However, I saw him open his lips and inhale – precisely when the noise occurred – on numerous occasions. I gave him a few murderous looks, which sometimes resulted in a period of quiet, but toward the end of the flight he amped it up and I couldn’t stand it anymore so I asked the cabin crew for ear plugs. I was able to enjoy three hours of quiet, but I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about ways that I could "accidentally" cause him severe bodily harm during the departure procedures.
After the flight landed our tour group rendezvoused with a local guide and tour bus, who we had hired to take us on a day tour of Frankfurt. The weather was foul so we spent most of the tour on the bus. We went to a gasthaus (pub) and everyone ordered soup – it was just one of those days. I had an amazing bowl of goulash soup with a slice of rye bread. Some of our group tried the local apfelwine. The rest of us tried the dark and light varieties of a beer brewed in Frankfurt.
After lunch some of the group went with the guide to see Goethe Haus, a museum dedicated to the famous German poet J.W. Goethe. Mom and I weren’t really interested in seeing Goethe Haus so we walked around town. The gasthaus where we had lunch is in the large town square where they hold the large Christmas Market. City workers were busy getting ready for the market. The first thing they do is set up and decorate a 4-story tall Christmas tree. City workers were also hanging decorations on street lamps in the streets and in the smaller Christmas Market. So, the city was starting to look very festive. It was also full of people shopping their hearts out, which put us both into a festive spirit.
After the tour we returned to the airport for a 5-hour wait for our flight. I was planning to sleep but couldn’t – my body clock was saying “Bing! Time to wake up!” So, Mom and I sat about talking and watching the comings and goings in Europe’s second-busiest airport. It really is a fascinating – but noisy! – environment.
So, in a few minutes we’ll start boarding our flight to Casablanca. We’ll arrive at 1:30am their time (10:30am our time), which will make it a 24-hour transit. Tomorrow is going to be a challenge as well, with our tour of Casablanca starting after breakfast and not ending until we reach Rabat in the late afternoon. Wish us luck!
So, what has transpired in the last 24 hours? My “day” started with packing. Yes, I’m one of those people who packs the day they depart. I like the challenge and the risk of it. I almost forgot my power adapter, but – tragedy averted! My sister picked me up, then we picked up Mom, and then we were off to the airport.
It was blowing a gale when our flight departed but I didn’t really connect the dots between that and what it can do to an aircraft until we spent 10 minutes plunging up and down in a “patch” of turbulence. (I love how “patch” minimizes the sheer horror that is turbulence.) I was holding onto the head rest of the seat ahead of me in complete inarticulate terror. I must’ve looked a sight because the stewardess, who was facing us, mouthed “Are you OK?” to me. All I could do was breathe and not scream and not blow chunks.
We had a rest at Vancouver before boarding our flight to Frankfurt. Unfortunately I was seated next to a guy who had an incredibly annoying tic – he constantly sucked air through his teeth, making a piercing whistling sound that I could hear even while wearing headphones with the volume cranked. I asked him to stop but he denied being the cause of the noise. However, I saw him open his lips and inhale – precisely when the noise occurred – on numerous occasions. I gave him a few murderous looks, which sometimes resulted in a period of quiet, but toward the end of the flight he amped it up and I couldn’t stand it anymore so I asked the cabin crew for ear plugs. I was able to enjoy three hours of quiet, but I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about ways that I could "accidentally" cause him severe bodily harm during the departure procedures.
After the flight landed our tour group rendezvoused with a local guide and tour bus, who we had hired to take us on a day tour of Frankfurt. The weather was foul so we spent most of the tour on the bus. We went to a gasthaus (pub) and everyone ordered soup – it was just one of those days. I had an amazing bowl of goulash soup with a slice of rye bread. Some of our group tried the local apfelwine. The rest of us tried the dark and light varieties of a beer brewed in Frankfurt.
After lunch some of the group went with the guide to see Goethe Haus, a museum dedicated to the famous German poet J.W. Goethe. Mom and I weren’t really interested in seeing Goethe Haus so we walked around town. The gasthaus where we had lunch is in the large town square where they hold the large Christmas Market. City workers were busy getting ready for the market. The first thing they do is set up and decorate a 4-story tall Christmas tree. City workers were also hanging decorations on street lamps in the streets and in the smaller Christmas Market. So, the city was starting to look very festive. It was also full of people shopping their hearts out, which put us both into a festive spirit.
After the tour we returned to the airport for a 5-hour wait for our flight. I was planning to sleep but couldn’t – my body clock was saying “Bing! Time to wake up!” So, Mom and I sat about talking and watching the comings and goings in Europe’s second-busiest airport. It really is a fascinating – but noisy! – environment.
So, in a few minutes we’ll start boarding our flight to Casablanca. We’ll arrive at 1:30am their time (10:30am our time), which will make it a 24-hour transit. Tomorrow is going to be a challenge as well, with our tour of Casablanca starting after breakfast and not ending until we reach Rabat in the late afternoon. Wish us luck!
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