year abroad in London

11:26 AM
Lura

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

a long overdue post, but enjoy :)

Excuse the bare descriptions beneath...Ive been lacking the motivation to update this blog....I hope its just a phase. If you are wondering about the absence of people in my photos, well all the people-photos are captured on my parents camera. Below are the consequence of me galavanting about with my pre-loved digicam.

Cathedral of Barcelona

Christmas Laser Light Show outside the National Art Gallery; Metro Underground (there are bars!); our first Spanish apartment (Barcelona)

Apartment balcony; mum on the escalator; assorted photos taken at Park Guell (Barcelona)

Park Guell displaying Antoni Gaudi famous architecture (Barcelona)

Colourful displays at La Boqueria Market off Ramblas (Barcelona)

Gaudi buildings including the Casa Mila and the Casa Batlo. A. Gaudi is known for his ingenious and innovative designs in allowing as much light into the building (Barcelona)

Random photos on Ramblas; vending machine where you can pick your choice of flower bouquet (how romantic. haha); vending machine selling paperback books (it gets stranger, huh) (Barcelona)

Temple de la Sagrada Familia, yet another work designed by A. Gaudi; this grand building is a working art...literally...started in 1882 (?) its anticipated to finish sometime in the mid 2000s. wow. (Barcelona)

You know how some places have really tacky NY lights, well, Lisbon to the contrary, displayed one of the most elegant light decoration I have ever seen. Incredibily original as well. I think visting Lisbon during the festive season made the trip a lot more special than it would be otherwise. Note, the Portugese egg tarts (so surprised to find them. Despite the name, I didnt realize they had their origins in Portugal)

A beautiful day on the waterfront along the River Tagus (while it is a river, its misleading because its vast); look at the variety and quantity of ham in Corte Ingles supermarket...crazy (Lisbon)

Mum and Dad outside this archaic cafe. The Spanish, among other things, love their coffees. There are loads of pub-looking places that specialize in coffee; in the morning, youll notice the locals standing against the bar with a pastry and expresso in hand (a frequent sight indeed). Cappucinos is a foreign word around here; the Spanish have their own breed - the cafe con leche - coffee with milk which is equally, if not more delicious. (Lisbon)

Overlooking the sparkling Tagus River (Lisbon)

Castelo de Sao Jorge; amazing views overlooking the entire city (Lisbon)

Our favourite dwelling so far in the trip; the fact that it was so central was an added bonus (Seville)

Tapa bar where we indulged in the regions famous dish - fried fish; night walk along the river

One of the most breathtaking cathedrals I have visited; the gold alterpiece (top left) reaches from the floor to the ceiling in height: intricately beautiful piece of workmanship

Spectacular views from the Giralda Tower (part of the Cathedral); so worth the climb!

The Plaza de Espana; apparently it used to be the place for public comdemnation in the form of....hanging; you woudnt have suspected so with the beautiful bridges and fountain. Despite its chilling history, its a pleasant place to hang in the afternoon (Sevilla)

Walking around the city of Cadiz, two or so hours south of Seville; its practically surrounded by waters, hence a popular beach place for locals and tourists alike (Cadiz)

Paella (yes, prehaps the national dish?); Im not so fond of the generally sour taste of paellas, but enjoyed it nonetheless (Carmona - an old town east of Sevilla)

Entrance to the mellah (old Jewish quarters); this city was once the home of the Jewish and there are many remnants that testify to that fact; the famous Mezquita Mosque (Cordoba)

The quaint (Corie tells me they are apparently gypsy caves; ah ha, it explains the decoration) cave we stayed in Granada; I love the middle right photo of the car; Mum picking an orange (haha, actually, its a sham - I picked it, handed it over to her and told her to pose) {Malaga}

Mum and Dad with the array of home-made dishes (I swear, my mum is simply amazing. She can cook up a storm with hardly any ingredients in an inadequate kitchen); look at the extremely narrow alley we drove on in the Sacromonte region - a real test of driving ability for my dad - where the sides of the car were no more than 30 mm from the walls (miracle our car wasnt scratched!); gardens around The Alhambra

The Royal Palace at The Alhambra; intricate details of the Nasrid architecture; the Lion Fountain in the courtyard (Granada)

Shots taken in and about The Alhambra. Time slipped by so fast that three hours were gone before we knew it.

12:56 PM
Lura

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Travelling in Morocco provided a wonderful respite from the same old, same old Europe. Indeed, it is as fascinating of a place as it sounds.

The journey was not as smooth as it appears in the photos. With travelling in any underdeveloped countries, you always have those times when you feel like in the pits, literally as well: unkempt toilets (or lets say squat toilets), unpleasant hustlers, commission-makers trying to rip you off, insolent touts, unsolicited and unofficial guides insisting you are lost (do I look lost?), communication problems, long queues, bug-infested rooms, over-booked buses and so on.

But is it worth it? I think so.

The perception of Morocco as an unsafe and dangerous place is overstated. Yes, it is a deeply conservative place. Conservative it is, but dangerous I think not. Its just a case of dealing with the passive harassment, which unforunately can be summarized as ubiquitous, incessant and unnecessarily unpleasant.

There are natural attractions in Morocco that make it a captivating place to visit. For its size, its fits a diverse range of terrain: spanning the continent from East to West, you can cross from the vast and dry Sahara desert, to the Middle and High Atlas mountain ranges, to the busy souks and medina life in Marrakesh, to the windsurfing coastal towns of Essaouira. Along the way, if dig deep enough under the skin and past the harassment, you will encounter genuinely friendly and hospitable Berber people, as I thankfully did.

12:00 PM
Lura

Monday, January 09, 2006

Morocco

...... a country I particularly desired to visit when I was young
.....long associated it as the country where I lost my friend in a car crash

....prior conception was that it was an exotic country
....but a dangerous place for females
.....that it probably most likened to Egypt, dusty and all

now had the opportunity to visit this intriguing place....
countless times on the road paying silent tribute to Gavin...
exotic is not the word Ill use to describe Morocco, but a fascinating and curious place...
nor is it oppressive or dangerous for female travellers, just agnoizing at times....
it wasnt like Egypt.....

My route (photos in chronological order, with photos absent in some places): Tanger - Tetouan - Chefchaouen - Fes - Meknes - Fes - Er Rachidia - Rissani - Merzoug - Marrakesh - Setti Fama - Asni - Imlil - Marrakesh - Tanger

Chefchaouen

The distinguising characteristic of Chaouen are its blue-washed walls. It is also nortiously known as the place to smoke kif (hash) as I soon discovered, as cannabis are grown in regions around the town. So, when you mention to a local you have or are going to Chaouen, people think you are going there to get stoned. I found the town to be beautiful and unexpectedly clean. I soon realized Choauen is not like any other Moroccan town. But it does provide a easy transition into Morocco from Europe...that is if I got there directly from Tanger...but alas, I spent a couple of hours in Tetuoan.

Finding your way to the main souks (market square) is no easy feat because of the labyrinth of alleys. The first time I was taken by a young boy (who later demanded some dirhams...my first encounter of an unofficial guide). Then on my way back to the hostel, I was escorted by a French traveller.
The square, Place Outa el Hammam, comes alive at night with cafes, overhung terraces and restaurants brightly lit. The alleys running from it are lined with shops selling colourful Moroccan goods. The middle right photo is of an old fondouk, a caravanserai which in the past was used as an inn for traders and their camels enroute to Europe from the Sahara, as I was told.

This town is nestled between two peaks, the Rif Mountains. A short stroll from the town give commanding views of Chaouen, as seen in the top right photo. The bottom right photo is a typical entrance to medinas in Morocco. All Morocco towns/cities have a medina and a ville nouville, a old town and new town respectively. It is the medina that is of interest to a traveller. There are mutiple entrances/gates to any medina, typially four (North, South, East and West entrances) although there can be more, and are named Bab XX. Bab meaning Gate. In most medinas, there is no traffic because of the narrow lanes, so taxis and buses stop outside any one bab.

Fes

The first photo, taken on the bus, are of unofficial porters wheeling wooden carts (mentioned somewhere in my previous post). The second photo is of my first encounter of shish kebabs, cut, skewered and cooked almost immediately at a roadside stall during a stopover on the bus. Glorious sights in and around the food souks in the medina; notably were sights of sheep and camel carcasses hanging around the butchers and laid out on the table. Below meet Andre, the Czech guy, chiling with sweet mint tea. The best stuff seriously.

Bab Boujeloud, the eastern gate to the medina marks the first photo. The next one shows typical Moroccan bread. I say its looks and tastes like a hybrid between pita bread and a baguette. It is disc shaped, the outside with a crunchy and rough texture like pita bread (when toasted hehe) and the insides soft like a baguette. Its relatively thick. Perfect and delicious for soaking the juices of tangine or wrapping around skewers of meat. The other photos are of the food market on road leading to Bab Mahrouk (another gate)

Photos taken in the medina. Now and then, donkeys carrying loads passed by me. Most of the time, I let myself get swept along with crowds of people, finding myself in new unexplored corners of the medina. The bottom right photo is of a shop (many similar ones all around) selling ceramic plates. All shopowners claim they are handpainted. I doubt most of them are, but like to think so since I brought a couple for my mum :P Just hope it gets shipped in once piece; I couldnt afford the extra charges to declare package as fragile. It didnt help that the post office worker was rather nonchalent about it all; I think no baksheesh would have moved him to assist me in padding the parcel.

For 6 dh, this man whipped up breakfast for me: a fresh baguette filled with a perfectly cooked (runny yolk egg), fried sausages and tomatoes. The ingredients remind me of Indias sandwich wallahs on sidewalks of streets. Several photos of a random mosque in the medina. Forgot the name. The red cars at the bottom are petite taxi and the white cars on the right are the grand taxis. As already mentioned before, taxis are the common transport in Morocco and there are two types, the former serving routes within city/town and the latter making runs between cities/towns. Both are extremely cheap but the grand taxis are better value. For example, a grand taxi ride from Marrakesh to Asni, an hour and a half hour ride costed me 15 dh (equivalent to one pound).

Meknes

Meknes...regretably spent insufficient time here. Originally, I was to visit Meknes after Fes, which I did, and from there move onwards to Marrakesh. But all buses were full from Meknes to Marrakesh, but not on the Fes-Marrakesh leg, so I had to return to Fes to take the bus cutting short the time I had in Meknes. Actually, I was in a panic attack because at half 5 I was still in Meknes and without transport back to Fes to catch the bus at 7pm. I remembered it took over an hour on the outgoing journey as well. I also needed to pop by the hostel to pick up my backpack where I had paid 10 dh to leave it for the day. I headed to the Meknes bus station and found out the next bus was leaving at 6pm, which would be too late, because buses take longer than grand taxis. So I went over to the grand taxi stand. Dismayed I found no passengers waiting to go to Fes. The way grand taxi works is either riding in a collective taxi, which means you are paying for one place in the car, or you pay to have the whole taxi to yourself. Of course, the second option is more expensive (often drivers ask for 200dh), although better if you are travelling in a group anyways. With collective, paying for one place in a taxi ranges from 15 to 25dh depending on distance. A collective taxi only departs when it is full, namely has six passengers. Thats no problem if you are not running late, but if you are, then it gets quite frustrating waiting around the taxi until it gets filled up.

I was in the middle of contemplating whether to negotiate hiring the taxi to myself, since I couldnt afford to wait around longer for fear of missing my bus to Marrakesh, when a family of three came along and two guys appeared on the scene. Perfeeccct. We were set to go. The road trip was quite fun. I sat next to a girl about 13 years old. We literally communicated by drawing. She knew no English and I knew no French. But still, we were able to understand a bit of each other. It was cool. Simply through drawing, we covered topics ranging from food, where we live, our birthdays and ages, our addresses, love and age of marriages (haha, her mother joined in at this point), the subjects she took at school. She and her mother invited me to go to their house for dinner, but I declined telling them I unfortunately had a bus to catch. So. a missed opportunity indeed :(Riiight, so Meknes. The highlight was the bastilla I had. Whats that? its a traditional pie filled with pigeon meat (on special occasions) or chicken. It was the first time I sampled it. The texture was very crunchy; the pastry coated with sugar and cinammon. I was so impressed with the bastilla I had at the restaurant that I later emailed RG when I returned to London about it so they can review it themselves and hopefully include it in their next update. The mint tea was also the best I had so far in Morocco, with the right amount of sweetness and strength of tea.

The souks in Meknes are worthy of visiting. Meknes, being less frequented by tourists means there are less harassments by shopowners and generally better prices. With that in mind, I ploughed into buying souvenirs. I got a much better deal for a mirror I laid my eyes on in Fes. Its a camel bone mirror with doors. There were some slipper shops that sold beautiful handcrafted leather slippers. I wanted to get a pair there because they were only 50 dh (about 3 pounds) but the tailor was not around to fix the sole for me, and I couldnt stay longer to wait. In the end, I brought a pair from Marrakesh at an inflated price of 85 dh (the guy originally asked for 350dh!! crazy. I told him how I saw the same pair in Meknes for 50. Then he started reducing it). Thats Marrakesh prices for you.

Rissani to Merzouga

Wow, someting I have never done is riding on top of a jeep over the Sahara desert. It was so cool. A little dangerous, prehaps, as we clung on the low railings as the four wheel rover drove at a speed threatening to throw us over the edge. The highlight was watching the rising of the sun over the dunes in the east. We were driving towards the glaring sun, in the direction of the Algeria border (the bordering country on the east of Morocco). The border has been closed for political reasons for many years. But it was thrilling to think nonetheless that if we kept going we would reach the border.

The desert had an overwhelming effect on me. Maybe it was the incredible stillness of the desert, or the vastness of the desert that seemed to swallow me up. As far as I looked all I could see were stretches of sand. I suggested screaming at the top of our lungs for the fun of it. We did. And it felt just great.

Marrakesh

Marrakesh is the obsensible destination for a majority of visitors to Morocco. It didnt disappoint. In many ways, it is how I envisaged Morocco. Some visit it and decide never to return, putting it on the list of been-there-done-that types of places; others find it an sensous, exciting, and charming place and are capitvated by the mystical atmosphere. I cant decide which category I fall into. Im torn between the sheer harassment in Marrakesh and the inflated tourist prices on everything, and on the other, I am charmed by the medina and the mazes of souks, and of course the famous market square, Djemaa el Fna - the centre stage of the medina that gets all the attention anytime of the day.

I took the last two photos to remind me of the incident with the skewered liver, which had dropped on the ground (see past post). I never had a taste for liver. But it was my fault for simply pointing to a sizzling shish kebab and asking combien (how much, in French). Asking what meat it is was many levels too advanced for me to ask, and him to comprehend if I asked in English. Boo.

I took a pair of trousers, I had been meaning to alter, to the tailors. It costed 10 dh. So cheap. About 65p! Cf London, where the cheapest tailor I found, was charging 8 pounds for alterations. I was planning to leave my pair of trousers at the tailor and pick it up later in the day. But after walking through a labyrinth of convulated alleys trying to find a tailor and finally finding one I decided to stay and wait for them to be done because I knew if I left I would never be able to navigate through the mazes of alleys and find this shop again!! In any case, the lady seamstress asked me to wear them so she could see how much length to take off. I was quite shocked, being in an Islamic country, she asked me to put them on in the open; there was no curtain shielding me from passerbys on the street. Prehaps, it was alright, since I was wearing the djellaba (which is quite long and reaches more or less my ankles). But was taken back, nonetheless.

The last photo is taken at my favourite orange juice stand. There are dozens of orange stands around the square. If you walk within a few metres of any one of them, expect shouts from the vendors persuading you to visit their stand. Often you dont have a real choice, because the moment you are within their radar, one vendor or more would already start pouring out juice into a glass, and of course it is expected you approach that one. Having a glass of juice became a daily ritual after breakfast. It is refreshing and cheap. A glass of freshly squeezed orange juice set me back a mere 3 dh.

Several friends have asked me what the food is like in Morocco. Each time I recall, I am transported to the market square. I really cannot give an adequate description of the place. You simply had to be there to experience it. The combination of the smells and smoke from kebabs on the grill, tagines, oil fried fish and aubergines, and pots of boiling soups, and the noises of conversations around the casual dining tables is overwhelming. At night, the square is transformed with brightly lit food stalls set up in the middle of the the square. Each stall is surrounded by tiny stools, and basically you sat down in any one stall, ask for the price and the food is delivered straight up. The stalls will specialize in one or more things, for example, a food stall serving just soup and bread, another lamb tagines, another liver, another serving bowls of snails, another fried fish etc. So depending on what I felt like eating, sometimes at a combination of two places, I would just plonk myself down at one stall and order. I always however, sat at one of the stalls which serve plates of stewed lamb. For some reason, at those stalls, they always had three or more sheep head carcasses lined up and displayed on the table. Im not sure if that was supposed to make our meal more appetizing?

Like the orange juice vendors, it is difficult to properly walk around the various stalls to check out which ones you want to eat at because, every few metres, you get stall owners sidling up to you, trying to convince you to eat at their stall. But once you have chosen a place it becomes entertaining and amusing watching the stall owners' antics of attracting clients. They become quite endearing

Its seems to be all about the square, huh? Well, in many ways it is the heart which breathes life to the medina. I once read that Marrakesh would just be another Moroccan city if it werent for its famous square. Whats so fascinating about the place? Well, Ive given an account of the square at night with the dozens of food stalls. During the day, the square feels like a circus ground. There are throngs of people around fortune-tellers with their portable tables and cards, women offering henna services (if you walk too close to them, expect folders, showing various henna designs, thrusted at you. Declining politely simply falls on deaf ears), dentists (no kidding) with loose teeth stacked neatly around their small table, story-tellers (see top right photo of a man successfully attracting a wide audience of listers...unfortunately, I didnt understand a word), acrobats (see middle right photo), entertainers, snake charmers (your standard cobra shows....or scares), herbal doctors selling remedies of all sorts, transvestite dancers (see middle left photo), and musicians with native instruments.

The fascinating fact is that all these activities and entertainment are not created for the tourist, but is a genuine local tradition. The locals, as much as tourists are drawn to the square, whether for the spectacles unfolding before them or tucking into the gastronomical delights of the food stalls at night. It just so happens they also try to squeeze as much tips as they can from tourists.

A view of the square during the day and at night from an open terrace cafe overlooking the square. The day time photo was taking very early in the morning. After 10am, the square explodes with activities.

Around Imlil at Kasbah Toubkal

How amazing are the views from the kasbah. Notice the sheltered patio middle right photo, I literally stretched out and lounged with (several) glasses of mint tea gazing at the views and breathing in the crisp air

Around Imlil in the Aremd Berber Village

After looking at this photos, Dez commented they looked like they were taken in Nepal. I kind of understand why with the snow capped peaks in the background. But when he made the comment, I suddenly felt nostalgic. Nepal holds dear memories for me, as a place of many firsts. The photos of the children were taken by the children themselves. How artistic? I actually like these photos the best.

More shots by the playful children. I keep raving about the good weather but I cant help it. It really was great. You can see for yourself. That basket, the little girl has on her head, is surprisingly heavy! Dont underestimate it. I had to put it down after a few seconds. lols

I particularly like the first photo, the peculiar contrast of ordinary washing lines against the stupefying backdrop of the vast blue canvas and mountains. Caption: Washing lines on the Roof of the World. Sounds funny. I caught a quick photo of sheep scurrying past me (bottom right photo). Maybe they can intuitively sense a carnivore (with a preference for lamb) in sight....me! Oh, Im so cruel.

This baby, well toddler, is the epitome of cute. I have this fabulous photo of her on my mobile which Ill seek to upload here when I have the opportunity. She is an incredibily intelligent girl; I wish you can listen to her talk on and on. I had to take a photo in the grand taxi: four men (and a baby girl) squished in the back.

The highlight in the valley were the series of waterfalls. See the B/W photo, that was the first of a series of five waterfalls. We climbed up the face of the mountain and from there we viewed four more. I dont know why, but I must have deleted the photo become I ran out of memory.

Riding a mule was fun. It was just a beautiful experience because of the stunning scenery on our right and left. We had already trekked a long way out before getting on a mule, so there was not a tourist in sight save myself, and it was wonderful to just watch the berbers get on with their activities.

The bottom right photo is of a classic tagine cooking over a charcoal brazier. They were traditionally used by nomads but are a feature of any Moroccan household kitchen. They are cooked over low heat and over long periods of time until the juices come out and the meat is extremely tender. Drooling? mm I am. Although having a good tagine is a hit and miss in Morocco. Sometimes I had fantastic ones, other times I had quite bland ones. Thankfully, as my trip progressed, the tagines only got better.

p.s. I was in a writing mood, as you probably could tell, and so throughout the trip I compiled a list of inaccuracies and improvements in the RG. When I returned to London, I sent them an email and I got a reply today thanking me for my letter and telling me I could pick a free RG of my choice! score! as well as get a new Morocco RG because I mentioned mine had fell apart before my trip (apparently an anomalous binding). I replied saying a replacement wasnt necessary since I can still read the book and all. But I was looking at the destinations on their website to decide which complimentary country guide I wanted. They dont cover as many countries as LP and their guidebooks arent updated frequently, so I was quite limited in choice. After long deliberation, well not so long, I settled for India (published Oct 2005) :) Im looking forward to ruffling its pages! its going to make me miss this sub-continent more, but oh wells, I can just start dreaming of returning.

12:11 PM
Lura