Swimming, shopping, and eating have loosly filling my days. I enjoy getting up late, trying to converse with the Arabic cleaning ladies, and going to the pastry shop accross the street who know me by name.Pretty damn chelaxed! This lull in my travels has given me enough time to remember all the other, good and bad, moments and memories of my travels.
- All the wanabee drug trafficers.. offering to add in a free bar of soap to a drug sale.
-Bad english.. Titi taxi (petite taxi..) 'Agood spice for your cokaine.' (cooking).. the list goes on
-eight person taxi rides
-Realizing that my five day no shower smell is roses among the general public.
-The intense shock to me having no definable religion.
- My beyond awesome t-shirt tan.
-Favorite purchase so far? My wool touques with camels on them
-Hammams are fun, but you come out more dirty then you went in.
-'Fun' no longer properly describes the Hammam experience after remembering the Muscular lady bath attendants. The torturous scrub they give you with (no joke)a pumice stone. They scubbed my bloody tan off!
-Three dollars saved on a hotel, check. Free cockroaches included.
- Tired of reading? Play a game! How many bugs can YOU squish ont he wall before the time is up? One downside.. Cleaning ladies don't like bugs smooshed into the wall
-Waterproof cameras are not always waterproof.. especially when you forget to close the battery door..
-Street preformers have an extra sense.. They know who is trying to take pictures on the sly//
-Berestein Bears exists in Morocco, in Arabic.. but not in England..
-I am noticiably canadian, not when I speak English, but when I speak French..
- I have also been guessed to be German, Danish, and Chinese
-I am guessing my clothes were of low qualtiy.. The scrub board has made some sustanisial holes in them.. Thank goodness for cheap shopping!
-Orange juice is cheaper than water.. I am surpirsed I havn't contracted watever is the opposite of scurvy..
-I Divorce you. I Divorce you. I Divorce you. Tada! You're divorced, simple as pie.
All this brings me to remember my fourth travelling rule:
Do not leave your clothes outside your shower stall.
Damp clothes beats running butt-naked to your room, when someone steals them.
vendredi 30 juillet 2010
lundi 19 juillet 2010
The Last of morocco
Agadir is where I left off last time, and where most of the entertaining english group left for home. The rest of us carried on (via a horror riden bus) to Essaouara. A relaxed seaside resort, wiht not much to do but laze around and gorge on food. From there we took another lovely bus ride to The Cascades d'Ouzoud. This ride was tolerable , because we saw the treeclimbing goats!
Litterally squealing with delight, we pointed out goat after goat scrambling around in the Aragan trees. As wierd as it was, its obvious why they climb up, because the tree leaves are the only green and edible thing around. Being probably the only tourists on the bus ( or the most obvious ones) we got some pretty crazy looks from the locals, old and young alike. But hey, its not every day you see a goat in a tree, and since I have now seen them, I dont have to go through the trouble of hoisting one up.
The Ouzoud waterfalls were gorgeous, away from the hustle and bustle of the major cities, it was quiet and enjoyable. We jumped off some crazy big cliffs into the river, and tried to stay in the water or in the shade. The sun was just too much for us, at 47 degrees, walking anywhere was painful. For the hike back up the mountain to a taxi back into town, we hired a donkey. Looking at the poor, drooping eared beasts, you wonder how anyone could make them work so hard.. well now I know.. That donkey carried my bag back up the hill, something I sure couldn't do. As sad as they look, It was better than having another human carry my bag up the hill, which was the other option.
Back in Marrakech, I was left by Emily and Gabe, and I took a first class (a whole dollar fifty more than second) train to Casablanca.
Expecting the usual dozens of loud mosques, and intricate doors, Casa was a real surpise. From the train to my hotel I passed no less than six bars, all bearing sheets or beads over their doors to ' hide' what goes on inside, but really just making them more obvious. My hotel turned out to be the most expensive I have stayed in ( to be fair, I have been sleeping on rooves). The smelliest I have stayed in, and it came with free bedbugs! Despite my five star hotel, casa was worth going to, if not for the sights, but for the people.
I spent a bit of time with a traveler i met earlier in my travels, Antony, we had drinks ( yes, booze!) in a restaurant overslooking the city. My drink cost more than my hotel, but the company was worth it.
In my bug filled palace I met another fellow hotel dweller, Youssef, who recently recieved his visa for Canada. We spent many nights over coffee debating and discussing our varying views on subjects. He is so genuinely good, and smart, that for the first time I felt compelled to actually listen and contemplate his views. He stumped me on a few, leaving me with no counter-argument. It was a relativly new thing for me, being at a loss of words, usually I don't budge an inch from my views. Then again, not very many people will keep up talking with me until I back down and call defeat:)
He never took me for ignorant ( I hope) and I asked every question in the book.
(You clean your feet five times a day? .... Wearing sandals, yes. Socks and shoes you just have to swipe your dry hands over them, and if you are travelling only every three days.)
In return he asked me questions about canada and myself, and I quized him with canadian trvia. ( touque, penny, nickle, dime..)
Even with my book full of answered questions, I still have trouble understanding regular, or standard behavior.
I spent ages trying to direct him to brush off a bread crumb from his hair, which he said I could have done myself . His friends and him will use each other as pillows at the beach, but saying goodbye between different sexes, a handshake is the norm. No hugs here!
I guess I shouldn't have been surprised , because we had already talked about female clothing, and how arms ( and practically everything else) is private. Knowing this, there was no way that when Youssef, his freinds, and I went to the beach I was wearing a bikini. Showing a bit more than arms might scanadilize them all!
At the beach, in my shorts and t shirt, we drowned ourselves in the sand filled monster waves, and played soccer on the beach. I had an automatic advantage, anytime anyone of them would bump into me they would stop and apologize,and I would make away with the ball! mUhaha. The poor gentlemen.
The guys have to go back to work for the week, so I am left here alone, to try and find a plane and get my visa organized. Being here an extra week has been fine, but what a bother trying to get things organized to fly out! My plane was grounded due to bad weather last Wed, but I am hoping to fly out of here this tuesday.
Fingers crossed!
Litterally squealing with delight, we pointed out goat after goat scrambling around in the Aragan trees. As wierd as it was, its obvious why they climb up, because the tree leaves are the only green and edible thing around. Being probably the only tourists on the bus ( or the most obvious ones) we got some pretty crazy looks from the locals, old and young alike. But hey, its not every day you see a goat in a tree, and since I have now seen them, I dont have to go through the trouble of hoisting one up.
The Ouzoud waterfalls were gorgeous, away from the hustle and bustle of the major cities, it was quiet and enjoyable. We jumped off some crazy big cliffs into the river, and tried to stay in the water or in the shade. The sun was just too much for us, at 47 degrees, walking anywhere was painful. For the hike back up the mountain to a taxi back into town, we hired a donkey. Looking at the poor, drooping eared beasts, you wonder how anyone could make them work so hard.. well now I know.. That donkey carried my bag back up the hill, something I sure couldn't do. As sad as they look, It was better than having another human carry my bag up the hill, which was the other option.
Back in Marrakech, I was left by Emily and Gabe, and I took a first class (a whole dollar fifty more than second) train to Casablanca.
Expecting the usual dozens of loud mosques, and intricate doors, Casa was a real surpise. From the train to my hotel I passed no less than six bars, all bearing sheets or beads over their doors to ' hide' what goes on inside, but really just making them more obvious. My hotel turned out to be the most expensive I have stayed in ( to be fair, I have been sleeping on rooves). The smelliest I have stayed in, and it came with free bedbugs! Despite my five star hotel, casa was worth going to, if not for the sights, but for the people.
I spent a bit of time with a traveler i met earlier in my travels, Antony, we had drinks ( yes, booze!) in a restaurant overslooking the city. My drink cost more than my hotel, but the company was worth it.
In my bug filled palace I met another fellow hotel dweller, Youssef, who recently recieved his visa for Canada. We spent many nights over coffee debating and discussing our varying views on subjects. He is so genuinely good, and smart, that for the first time I felt compelled to actually listen and contemplate his views. He stumped me on a few, leaving me with no counter-argument. It was a relativly new thing for me, being at a loss of words, usually I don't budge an inch from my views. Then again, not very many people will keep up talking with me until I back down and call defeat:)
He never took me for ignorant ( I hope) and I asked every question in the book.
(You clean your feet five times a day? .... Wearing sandals, yes. Socks and shoes you just have to swipe your dry hands over them, and if you are travelling only every three days.)
In return he asked me questions about canada and myself, and I quized him with canadian trvia. ( touque, penny, nickle, dime..)
Even with my book full of answered questions, I still have trouble understanding regular, or standard behavior.
I spent ages trying to direct him to brush off a bread crumb from his hair, which he said I could have done myself . His friends and him will use each other as pillows at the beach, but saying goodbye between different sexes, a handshake is the norm. No hugs here!
I guess I shouldn't have been surprised , because we had already talked about female clothing, and how arms ( and practically everything else) is private. Knowing this, there was no way that when Youssef, his freinds, and I went to the beach I was wearing a bikini. Showing a bit more than arms might scanadilize them all!
At the beach, in my shorts and t shirt, we drowned ourselves in the sand filled monster waves, and played soccer on the beach. I had an automatic advantage, anytime anyone of them would bump into me they would stop and apologize,and I would make away with the ball! mUhaha. The poor gentlemen.
The guys have to go back to work for the week, so I am left here alone, to try and find a plane and get my visa organized. Being here an extra week has been fine, but what a bother trying to get things organized to fly out! My plane was grounded due to bad weather last Wed, but I am hoping to fly out of here this tuesday.
Fingers crossed!
samedi 3 juillet 2010
Fez, The Sahara and Marrakech
I wish I post all the things I do, but there just isn't enough time in the day! ( plus the keyboard is confusing سيشبسيبيسشبيسشب.. it starts ont he left and moves the the right, darn Arabic!)
After my sicky travelling to the nothing-town of Berkane, I went allt he way to the algerian border town of Oujda . On the way there I met a very nice woman, who spoke no french. She seemed keen on taking me home for tea, and ( using my seazt partner as a translator)we worked it out. It turns out this smiling freckled lady didnt want me for just tea, she wanted me to stay the night, and the next ngiht, and the next. I wasnt allowed to help, but her twenty somthing daughter and I had a riot trying to communicate. We all ate morocain style, went to a hammam, and I watched them pray five times a day. ( FIVE)
The end of my stay there was a little speedbump when she tried to marry me off to one of her sons.
But All is well, no hard feelings ( i hope) and I am still a happily not- married -veiled -housewife.
After being seen off by the whole family, I headed to fez, on another nine hour chicken skwacking filled ride.
I followed my first rule , and took a map of where my hotel was. Damn happy i did, my short trip to the post, which i could see from my room, ended up exceeding five hours, and called for a payed guide to get back.
The next day I lassooed myself two english lads, and happily got lost again. We went to the tanneries ( very smelly) and found our self a local dirty eatery. Apparently I am not sucha bother, they didnt try to lose me, and we planned a desert trip for the follwing day.
The desert being the sahara, and the transportation being CAMELS. OK, there was a *minibus to get us to the camels, but that wasnt nearly as exciting.
The trip was three days long, one day getting htere, one day camel trecking and sleeping int he dunes, and a full day to return back.
We stopped at some random places, I might talk about the m*later beause they were pretty cool, but they are currently being shadowed by the CAMELS ( incedently also what I had for supper today..)
I had two camels, Charlie and Humpfree. Charlie was a darling, escept that he lost one of my precious waters, but Humpfree was rather vicous. HF also had a abnormaly large hump , and I think I am still walking a bit funny..
The desert was amazing, it changed instantly from rocky plains to yellow waves.
We climbed a dune ( which is decievingly high) ate desert food, and sang berber music.
Most of us decided to sleep under the stars, stealing our carboard mattresses from the tent.
This brings me to my third travelling rule.
Sleep in a tent to avoid scorpions.
Two lovely scorpions were found under the mattresses. The girl who was'sick' the ngiht before? She was stung by one..
Again, all is A O K. We saw the girl later on, she was fine, and we all got to pile into our minibus for the long treck back.
I have also found myself in Marrakech, and Agadir, neither of which lived up to their positive reviews. I take that back, Agadir had spagetti.. whioch was an appreciated change from cous cous and tangines. M had pidgeon , camel and snails and unwelcome amount of people trying to drag you into their stalls.
Tomorrow to the waterfalls, and HOPEFULLY to see the tree climbing goats. ( or a goat, that i find and throw in the tree and take a picutre;;either work for me!)
After my sicky travelling to the nothing-town of Berkane, I went allt he way to the algerian border town of Oujda . On the way there I met a very nice woman, who spoke no french. She seemed keen on taking me home for tea, and ( using my seazt partner as a translator)we worked it out. It turns out this smiling freckled lady didnt want me for just tea, she wanted me to stay the night, and the next ngiht, and the next. I wasnt allowed to help, but her twenty somthing daughter and I had a riot trying to communicate. We all ate morocain style, went to a hammam, and I watched them pray five times a day. ( FIVE)
The end of my stay there was a little speedbump when she tried to marry me off to one of her sons.
But All is well, no hard feelings ( i hope) and I am still a happily not- married -veiled -housewife.
After being seen off by the whole family, I headed to fez, on another nine hour chicken skwacking filled ride.
I followed my first rule , and took a map of where my hotel was. Damn happy i did, my short trip to the post, which i could see from my room, ended up exceeding five hours, and called for a payed guide to get back.
The next day I lassooed myself two english lads, and happily got lost again. We went to the tanneries ( very smelly) and found our self a local dirty eatery. Apparently I am not sucha bother, they didnt try to lose me, and we planned a desert trip for the follwing day.
The desert being the sahara, and the transportation being CAMELS. OK, there was a *minibus to get us to the camels, but that wasnt nearly as exciting.
The trip was three days long, one day getting htere, one day camel trecking and sleeping int he dunes, and a full day to return back.
We stopped at some random places, I might talk about the m*later beause they were pretty cool, but they are currently being shadowed by the CAMELS ( incedently also what I had for supper today..)
I had two camels, Charlie and Humpfree. Charlie was a darling, escept that he lost one of my precious waters, but Humpfree was rather vicous. HF also had a abnormaly large hump , and I think I am still walking a bit funny..
The desert was amazing, it changed instantly from rocky plains to yellow waves.
We climbed a dune ( which is decievingly high) ate desert food, and sang berber music.
Most of us decided to sleep under the stars, stealing our carboard mattresses from the tent.
This brings me to my third travelling rule.
Sleep in a tent to avoid scorpions.
Two lovely scorpions were found under the mattresses. The girl who was'sick' the ngiht before? She was stung by one..
Again, all is A O K. We saw the girl later on, she was fine, and we all got to pile into our minibus for the long treck back.
I have also found myself in Marrakech, and Agadir, neither of which lived up to their positive reviews. I take that back, Agadir had spagetti.. whioch was an appreciated change from cous cous and tangines. M had pidgeon , camel and snails and unwelcome amount of people trying to drag you into their stalls.
Tomorrow to the waterfalls, and HOPEFULLY to see the tree climbing goats. ( or a goat, that i find and throw in the tree and take a picutre;;either work for me!)
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