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I am pooped!

I arrived home from London on the evening of the 20th. And it took a good solid 4 days of sleep to get anywhere near back to functioning form. Essentially all the lost sleep from the 6 months of travel demanded to get some quality time and my body, being the thoughtful person it is, caved and set me comatose. Guess I needed it!

I had a chance to catch up with family on the 26th during my Gran's 90th birthday, which was a wonderful way to ease back into civilization. (What? You mean I have to brush my hair and wear clean clothes?)

But now I'm a bit unsure what to do next. I have a burning urge to do something and to do it now, now, now. I just don't know what. The logical side of me says (in that know-it-all voice): "Relax, you probably just need time to run through your experiences over the last 6 months and digest the new knowledge and skills you possess. It's a time to reflect and enjoy your newfound sense of adventure." The other side, you know... "that" side, says: "Waaaa! I don't have any money! I'm going to die alone in a cardboard box smelling of cat pee!" And the debate wages on.

In the meantime I think I'll just kick back with another cup of hot chocolate, glare at the snow (grrr...), and see if I can figure out what I want to be next.

(NOTE: This will be the last entry for this journal... unless I go travelling again... which will probably happen... because I've got the travel bug bad... Southeast Asia anyone?)

The Best Surprise Ever

Marrakesh left a few lingering memories of massive shopping days, great bartering sessions, the occational creepy shop keeper, a super agressive cab driver (he tried to grab our bags away and shove them in the trunk of the cab when we refused to pay him too much), and an outrageously pink cafe. Not necessarily in that order.

However the time came and a few of us bundled ourselves (and assorted paraphenalia) to the airport and headed off to our respective destinations. I flew to Luton. Still not exactly sure where that is... somewhere way the heck outside London I think.

But it was here that I got the best surprise ever. EVER! For when I wrestled myself free from customs and had claimed my pack from the baggage claim like a triumphant althlete, marched out the (only) gate and stepped into the vacant waiting room I was feeling pretty beat. But optimistic because I was being met by my friend Alison who's currently schooling in London. Only Alison wasn't there. In fact, as far as I could tell, no one except for a few old ladies was in the waiting room at all! That was until this one woman wearing a black hat who I assumed was sleeping tilted her head to the side so I could see her face. But it wasn't Alison... it was my friend Anna who had flown all the way from Vancouver to meet me! (Well... London itself is a pretty big draw too, but I'm allowed to have my self indulgent moments.) As I said, this was the best surprise I've had... EVER!

Needless to say Anna and Alison have kept me pretty busy in jolly old London. Thus the lack of updates on the blog front. (Sorry for disappearing Dad!) Have been having a blast running around all my favorite things. Except of course that this time I have someone to be silly and retarded with and that makes it all the more fun.

Tomorrow I fly back to Vancouver. And frankly, it hasn't really donned on me that my trip is ending. I have no idea what to make of it, how to think of it, or how the heck I'm supposed to react to it. But that's probably just how things go. I fully expect it to take a good couple weeks for everything to sink in. Hell, at this point I can't even distinguish which memories happened in which cities!

I'd also like to take this opportunity to appologies to friends and family in advance. I'm scruffy, a bit short, kind of rude, and maybe a teensy weensy bit self centered at the moment. But once I realize that you're not all Eastern European border guards things will be just like old times. Well... except for the scruffiness. That'll take a good couple weeks to sort out. :P

I miss you all! See you soon!

Mad Mad Marrakesh

So after spending the morning puttering around sleepy Essaouira we boarded a bus to Marrakesh. The ride was uneventful, but dumped us in the middle of who knows where Marrakesh. It was dark and John had it work cut out for him arranging petit taxis for us all. They don't drive with the meters on in this city so you have to barter for the price before hand.

But we all managed to arrive at our hotel in one piece, luggage intact. After a brief freshen-up we headed out into the Djemma el Fna, the biggest square in Marrakesh. During the day the square is fairly ordinary with the usual gang of peddlers and shop owners shouting for your dirhams. But at night the madness ensues. Berber storytellers set up with huge crowds set in a ring around them. Snake charmers do their best to con money out of phobic tourists by flinging snakes on people and then asking money to remove it. Roving hordes of horny young men move in waves around foriegn women to cop a quick feel. (This is NOT a pleasant thing!) And the food stalls constantly shout and jump in your way as a means to lure you to their counters. It's pretty overwhelming. But it's not all that bad. Once we let John know what was happening (and he had warned us it might happen) he managed to keep the pervy teens at bay. And again, once we chose a food stall, the rest backed off and let us enjoy the meal.

Marrakesh is not exactly as I pictured it. It lies somewhere between Casablanca and Fes in terms of feel and atmosphere. The shop keepers are definitely and positively more aggressive than anywhere else, but there are a few jems. And when we did our shopping today we kept coming back to those few nice ones.

It's hard to believe that tomorrow I'll be heading out of Morocco on a flight to London. It doesn't quite feel like the whirlwind tour of Europe is ending. Still, it'll be great to see Alison from home and to reconnect with the Croatia crew and a few others I've met while travelling. London for me is really a big travel reunion place. So in a way it'll be a great way to end my travels.

But I do still keep thinking I'm headed off to another city, country, continent instead of beginning the path back home. I don't really know what it's like to have a home anymore!

Hammam-a Mama

My god! My skin has not been this clean in months!
The Hammam was absolutely and undoubitably mind blowingly wonderful. All of us took turns in pairs, and all of us stumbled out of the steam soaked basement with zombified blissfulness.

Here's a basic breakdown of what happened:
After paying you decend down a narrow corridor to the Hammam located in the basement of an old Medina building. The first room is very narrow and consists only of a reception type desk. She shows you to room number two where you strip down to your birthday suit and shove all your belongings into a locker. Beats the hell out of me where you're supposed to stick the key though! After some sniggering on behalf of the Hammam ladies at our bashfullness (Linda opted to leave her knickers on) we were shown into room number three. This one is basically an all purpose washing area for regulars and those who aren't getting the full treatment. We sat there dumbfounded as what to do next for about five minutes sweating like mad. It was incredibly dark down there, which I took to be a good thing as it stopped me from freaking out about other people's sweat etc. Shortly a completely buck woman came in and took us into room number four and asked us to lay down on two mats while she slooshed warm water all over us. Then another Hammam lady joined us and the scrubbing commenced. My GOD! They certainly give you a going over... ALL over! I think she scrubbed off eight layers of skin and about half my tan in the process. But the upside is my skin is super silky soft. After much more slooshing of water, they plastered us with some sort of black muddy paste and left us to "dry" for about 15 minutes. Then they asked us to stand up and slooshed us with some more water. This is when they took their opportunity to relieve Linda of her bottoms and yanked them down to her ankles. Cheeky and sneaky! Then it was on to the massage. I tried my best not to think about that fact that I had a huge naked Moroccan woman inches from my back and concentrated instead on the fact that she was doing her best to force all the air out of my lungs. Still, it was wonderfully relaxing and I enjoyed every minute of it. At the end the large lady who was doing my scrubbing wrapped and towl about my head, patted me on the cheeks and called me her baby. At least that's what I understood from the mangled french-arabic she spoke. So I'll always think of her as my Hammam Mama.

Linda and I left feeling better than we had in days (in my case, months!). We topped off the night with whole wheat crepes (something other than tajines, hallelujha!) and ice cream with the other girls. Ahh bliss.

Tonight we head to the last city on the tour. Marrakesh. Can we say shopping paradise? Yes we can!

Hard Core (ish)

The drive to Ait Benhaidu was long, but thankfully fairly dry. Unfortunately our dearly beloved van "got sick" as the Moroccan mechanic said and was taken away for repairs. The kasbah at Ait Benhaidu was fabulous and it was neat to wander the streets and figure out which scenes from which movie were filmed where and with whom in them. However the best part had to be the absolute manic river crossing by donkey. Picture two tall Canadian women straddling the smallest teeny tiny donkey ever. Then have that donkey plod through a raging river up to it's belly. Then picture the aforementioned two Canadian women with death grips on the Moroccan guy leading the donkey. Then repeat this five more times and you have something like our crossing to Ait Benhaidu. I think John nearly bust something he was laughing so hard.

The next morning we were greeted with not one but two replacement vehicles. Two well worn land rovers with missing pieces in the doors were to be our new transportation. I kept singing "going on a lion hunt" much to the dismay of my fellow tourees! The rovers took us up into the High Atlas mountains (which look strikingly similar to the Rockies, only pink) to the village of Imlil. Apparently Imlil is a kind of basecamp for expeditions up Morocco's highest mountain as all the locals tried to sell us crampons and ice picks. Made us all feel quite hard core! From there we trekked up to a Berber (original natives of Morocco) village and stayed in a local Gite (a mud brick house with every section of the house as seperate building). And holy Berber bumpkins was it cold! The next morning we hiked up into the mountains for a couple hours along the same trail that the real mountaineers take. Again, made us feel like super tough intrepid explorers... even if they did out pace us like horses to slugs. The views of the snowcapped mountains were breathtaking. Could hardly believe that I was still in Morocco!

From there our old van showed up again in a much healthier condition to take us to Essaouira on the coast. (Pity, I rather enjoyed them. They had more leg room.) It's so weird to think that yesterday we were in the mountains and today we're dipping our toes into sand and chasing the seagulls away. One thing's for sure, Morocco is definitely a country of diversity. No two places that I've visited have been the same.

Essaouira is a lovely collection of white washed buildings and wide french designed streets. Actually reminds me a lot of the Greek islands. It has a very laid back feel like most beach side towns which is always a hit with me. In a couple hours, Linda and I are due for our Hammam experience. A room full of women, completely buck naked, covered in various soaps, mud baths, and assorted scrubbing materials... what could possibly be awkward about that? :) Ah well, it'll be good to have a giggle at our mud monster bodies.

Les Chameaux

A million things have happened in the last couple days, so I'll do my best to fill you all in.

After Fes we headed up into the Middle Atlas. Beautiful country of stark red brown mountains carved into table tops by water and endless plateau vistas. Our hotel was in the middle of a vast swath of ground that ended right at the mountains. To stretch our legs we hiked it to a nearby gorge and then on to a nearby mud brick kasbah village. The people here were wonderfully friendly, even if I didn't have a clue what they were saying. And the children were amazing! They all lined up to have their pictures taken and then wanted to see what they looked like on the digital cameras. Much shrieking and laughter ensued upon their examinations of our photos. As the sun set, three of the little girls took the hands of Linda (fellow touree) and myself and walked with us all the way out of the village. This is probably my best memory of the trip thus far.

Beyond the Middle Atlas we decended down through steep valleys which broke away to reveal... the Sahara! This was the night I'd been waiting for. The camel ride through the desert. And I wasn't disappointed. It is unbelievably quiet and soothing. Rolling dunes of gold stretching beyond your sight, the sparse tufty grass struggling to grow. Mind blowing! But my GOD the camel ride was uncomfortable. You'd think that in 1000 years they'd come up with a better saddle! My ass bones still hurt. Probably did not help that we all decided to scramble up a massive sand dune to watch the remainder of the light spatter across the dunes. Great experience though.

The weather wasn't exactly as we'd hoped and on the way out to our camp it began to rain. This was to be the theme for the next couple days. I've talked about rain before. How the rain was thick enough to swim through, how it was trying to kill me, how it was rain with intent to murder. But NOTHING compares to the rain in Morocco. You see it's rained so much here that the majority of the roads we need to traverse are now masquerading as rivers. (Though this is as much due to the Moroccoans complete inablity to grasp the concept of bridges as anything else.) We got holed up in some small town for a whole day because the road we needed to cross was submerged. It also meant that we didn't get to see one of the more spetactular natural wonders in Morocco. The Todra Gorge. Well... I should clarify. We saw it... from the other side of the broken path up the gorge! Still, the attempt was made and I'm glad for it.

Unfortunately all this rain has also meant colder temperatures. And when your only pair of pants is soaking wet you get cold pretty fast. Needless to say, me and my fellow tour gals are a shivering mess of clammy coldness. And worse, I haven't seen a hot shower in days!

Today we're headed to the kasbah in Ait Benhaidu (or something like that) where "Gladiator", "Kundun", and a whole whack of other movies were filmed. Now if only I can get a big sword to swing around for some choice photos!

Madness in Fes

I am completely and utterly blow away by the markets in Fes. They are above and beyond anything I've ever seen on this trip. It's an assult on the senses, all of them. But not in a bad way. You'll have donkeys plodding down the narrow streets because cars can't fit. You'll have women in beautiful Jalabas (like a really long kaftan with a pointed hood), women in full covered hajibs, and women wandering around in jeans and tshirts. And food! Food everwhere! Men sharpening knives. Brass pots being hammered into shapes. Multicoloured jewel lanterns swinging in the breeze. It smells good. It reeks to the high heavens. It's unbelievably colourful. It's the colour of dried mud. It's completely amazing and it's taken my breath away.

Today we're headed into the Atlas mountains for some hiking and after that it's into the desert for some (hopefully!) gorgeous sunsets and some camel ridin'. Probably won't be able to update the blog much for about a week. But I'll give a full update when I get a chance.

The Harem

The last couple days have flown by and the pace is likely to stay the same. It's weird to think that yesterday morning I was in Casablanca. Since then I've been to two different cities and one Roman ruins out in the country side. Craziness!

The first city was Rabat, capital city of Morocco and residence of the King. Needless to say this place is pretty swank compared to Casa. Huge boulevards lined with palms and fountains. And it's clean! Well... relatively. We only had 4 hours there but managed to squeeze in a run of the Medina, a quick look around the local Kasbah (fortified village), a romp around a spectacular unfinished mosque, a mausoleum to some past king, and the Roman ruins of Chellah. Needless to say by the time we wrangled ourselves though a crazy train to the city of Meknes we were dead tired.

This morning I awoke to the sound of a 5am prayer call going out. Which was beautiful until I decided I'd had enough and popped in some earplugs. Around 9 a bunch of us headed off on a tour of the ruins of some fabulous graineries and stables. Neat stuff. But the highlight of the day has to be buying fruit in the Old Mellah (Jewish quarter) and getting lost in the Medina markets. Even got to try Camel meat! It's kind of like a cross between beef and lamb. First you go to one guy and get him to mix you up a patty of lean camel meat, a bit of the fatty hump to help it cook, some onions and seasoning. Then you take your patties to the grill guy down the next alley, who cooks it up on open coals and shoves it in a bit of bread. Loved it! Actually really enjoyed Meknes. It seems more authentic. Especially when you're standing in unidentified sludge while buying your bananas!

Now we're all in Fes. You know... where the hats come from. Soon we'll head out to a fancy dinner in a converted traditional riad (home with a central coutyard and fountain). I should also explain the title of this post a bit. You see there are 10 women on this trip... and one male tour leader. Thus, the Harem. It's ok John, you'll get over the shock some day.

Culture Shockage

So I arrived in Morocco on Halloween morning having freshly stepped off the ferry from Tarifa. No sooner had I stepped out of the terminal doors I was faced with about 5 men wearing funny hats and dresses to the ankles. It took my rattled brain a second to kick in and convey to my mind that this was in fact the local style of dress and not a convention of drag queens.

The train trip to Casablanca was relatively unevenful and rather pleasant. (A Moroccan guy cept forcing me to eat fresh baked cookies!) And a local family that I'd met on the train insisted on driving me to my hotel. (Though the driver did try to sell me a computer on the way.) My GOD Casablanca is a madhouse! The local family was very concerned that I was only staying on day. They thought that was too long! The traffic in this city is along the lines of Bankok and Delhi, sheer madness! Cars driving everywhere, four abrest in any given direction, hand drawn carts carrying eggs and crazy motorized cyclists weaving in between the cracks. At one point the driver turned around, pointed to the traffic and said "Ever been to China?".

But the mqdness didn't end there. When I arrived at the hotel they had no record that I'd paid for that night, so they weren't going to give me the room. After some talk he agreed to give me the room on the condition that the tour guide would be able to prove it the next day (today, which he did). This gave me enough time to leap out into the crazy masses of Casablanca's streets ("thronging hordes" is a phrase which comes to mind) and find an internet cafe where I could print off proof that I'd paid. This seemed to smooth things over. Pretty much just collapsed in bed after that.

Met up with some of my fellow tour groupies today and took a tour of the Hassan II Mosque, third largest in the world and probably Casa's only tourist sight. Lovely place. Absolutely MASSIVE. Cavernous even!