Essaouari, Morocco June 2012

Essaouira   ess o we’ ra

So where does one go when they’ve had four days of desert caked on their body?  Why to the ocean of course!  The small town of Essaouira was calling and only 3 hours away by bus from Marrakech. Actually, there were two things calling me, the idea of visiting a fishing village and the Gnaoua Music festival.

     Warning:  Do not equate a Moroccan fishing village with any of the following:  quaint....New England.... clean...  It is picturesque, however.  I can’t imagine sitting in one of these boats if they were dry docked, muchless in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.  

   








 They must float, they’ve been building them for 1,000 years!  Kind of cool to actually see them being built.  I watched a man with a hand plainer working on the hull of the boat.  Didn’t seem to be in a rush at all.  Didn’t want me to take his picture either!

  It was fun to walk around the harbor and take pictures of the boats, nets and salty sea dogs.  I got some mean looks so I decided to take pictures of boats, nets and ixschnay the pictures of the salty sea dogs.  

    I am not crazy about going in to small towns when they have a festival that swells the population by 15x and that is what was happening when I decided to go to Essouria during the Gnaoua Festival.  No problem!  I booked reservation, right?!!!   Right.  But....

     The best laid plans are laid to rest.  I got to Essaouira and via a difficult walk through very crowded streets, found my way to the Riad...Only... they did not have my reservation.  I showed the lady my email from HER that said, we happily anticipate your arrival.  She was very sad that she had no more rooms so she made a phone call to another hotel and boom!  i had a room.  Turned out for the best - as it was right on the main street.  The room was a bit like a prison cell - no windows.  But it was on the main street, which meant that even a direction impaired person like me could find it at night.  The first Riad was so difficult to find that I would have had to hire a guide to take me there.  

     The lady at the new hotel was equally friendly and told me of three great restaurants to try.  The streets were packed with people and many times it was difficult to walk without literally being pressed on by people on four sides.   A pickpocket’s nirvana!  My favorite restaurant had a chicken pastissere that was to die for.  While eating it, I saw one of the Brits and tried to yell at him, but he was being swept away in the crowd like a stick on the Mississippi River.  

    

The streets from my hotel terrace, where I had breakfast looked calm from four stories high, but when on them, especially anytime after 10:00 AM, were a zoo.  It was like we were in an auto and it was rush hour traffic.  

This was taken at about 7:00 AM.  It was the only time of day when you could see street.  Other times it was a subway platform in Tokyo.  Wall to wall people!

    

Essaouira was filled with “artists” from all over the world, such as these hair briders.  People couldn’t wait to have their hair braided.  I was able to find the Berber scarf i had been looking for.  I believe I paid all of $3.50 for it!

  

    The streets were a mad house, especially in late evening.  Yet, people would unfurl a blanket, throw some melons or peaches on it and start selling them.  In the middle of the street!!!  I wanted to scream at the Mayor and say, “Really??  Does this make sense to you to block the street?”  

  

 To get any sense of calm, a person would have to go off the main street to a side alley and barring a mugging, could find solace.  

    At night the Ganou concerts were interesting and some of the music was pleasing to the ears.  They had an instrument, think bass guitar but made from animal skins.  It had the richest tone of any instrument that I’ve heard since the super big pan flutes of South America.  I would be listening to a song by seven or eight musicians and it was nice, but going nowhere when all of a sudden one of them would start playing the animal skinned bass and it was like , “Whoa!,,, that is awesome!”  The man in black (no, not Johnny Cash), next to the piano is holding the instrument.

I don’t even know how to describe Ganoui music.  Think African/folk/rock n roll.  Lots of percussion, very soulfull.  Loud, but it made me feel like I was in Africa. 

Essaouari is a bit of a hippie hangout, or use to be.  Jimi Hendrix visited there for about a week and now there are all kinds of local legends, none of which are true.  But that doesn't mean that the local merchants don't use it to sell.  You'd think Hendrix was going to walk around the corner at anytime.

To escape the madness, I went to the beach, only to run into a festival of local tribes doing horse exhibitions.  They were riding at full speed AT the audience and firing their rifles...they do know about blanks, right??

 




To see some real shooting, though they never fired, I walked to the fort overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.  The water was brown, probably that time of year...or flushing time, I don't know.  The water looked anything but inviting.  Even on a clear day with clear water, the wind is blowing constantly and hard.  Not my idea of beach fun, picking sand out of my teeth, clothes, and hair...okay, teeth and clothes.
 

Seriously, does this look like a beach you'd want to swim in???  No thanks.  Amazing the amount of people I met on the bus and in town who said that they were in Essaouari to enjoy a beach holiday.  Maybe... if you're really into wind surfing or kite flying.  The logic behind putting a fort in Essaouari is really simple:  you don't have to aim at the boat, just aim so that if they don't sail into the rocks, they'll sail into the cannonballs, thus, they're kill ratio is enhanced by the ships sailing into the rocks to avoid sailing into the cannonballs.

    Time to eat.  Back to the streets to find as clean a place to eat as possible, without paying an arm and a leg.  There's always the market, where you can buy a fish who has been sitting out for Gosh knows how long and then they'll grill it for you, or how about a fresh chicken.  The chickens show a lack of history... if they had paid attention to the chickens who are taken out, they would stop eating and stay skinny.  For me, it was painful to watch the poor little chickens get their heads whacked off.  Some life, huh?

 





 Okay... it didn't stop me from ordering chicken... (third one from the left...not the heavyset one!)  And while I waited, street performers performed.  The first was a a group of kids from Italy.  They were earning money as they went through Europe and North Africa.  Not very talented so I gave them a couple of Euros to pay their medical bills for when they fell... and they will fall.


















These three guys were locals and were entertaining, though not the best I've seen.  Still they were worth a Euro for playing local music and adding to the atmosphere.  I was amazed at how few people gave either group money.  Shame.  I like people who are willing to work for a living and even hustle.

The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it – Henry David Thoreau.

Now THAT is a good saying... Wish I had thought of it!

As for you Mr. seabird... be thankful you don't cluck!

Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in getting up every time we do.

            Confucius

 - 

Day 18 Camino de Santiago July 23, Fromistre

    I could not sleep, and I think that it was for no other reason than I told someone that I had been sleeping so well!  Yet, I actually woke up early, as in still dark.  I had a motivation.  The restaurant I had eaten in the night before, La Taberna, had great wifi connection on their outside patio so I thought maybe I could go there and write for 20 minutes or so.  I was right!!! I could go there!   I was wrong!  There was no wifi connection there!!  But I never would have taken this photo had I not gone.

     Knowing that there would be no cafe, bar, restaurant, Denny's open in the morning and a good two hour hike  to start, I bought an orange and big cookie to have for breakfast.  While eating on the terrace of the El Esteban Auberge, I scanned the horizon to see the one big hill.  The one big hill that we would climb as soon as we left the auberge.

      It was a "panter" as in "pant pant"  to say the least.  12% grade  going up for one k and 18% grade going down.  Rough on the knees.  Could have used my sticks!!  Could have used an escalator.

 




 I have only seen the trailer for the "The Way", and it seems like there is a bridge where Martin Sheen is sitting on the edge and something falls into the river below.  This bridge looked like it from my brief memory.  Is it?  If so, it was a beautiful spot.

    These hay balls remind me of me.  Everyone seems to follow the rules and then... yeah, I know, why is it so difficult?  Why do some farmers use hay balls and some use hay bales?  I wonder what the advantage of one over the other is?  The round ones seem easier to move but more difficult to store?   Ah Ha!!  I know why I am the odd ball?  I ask too many questions!  Just get in line Steve and quit asking questions.

    I liked the blue flowers with the sunflowers in the background.  The blue flowers are not nearly as pretty in a picture as they are in real life.  Maybe that's why Van Gogh went cookoo... he tried to paint them and lost his mind.

 






  In this part of Spain, they plant cottonwoods in rows.  Not sure why?  Ain't gonna ask though!!  Must be some sort of windbreak.  Or they could be  used for the straight trunks.  Maybe the farmers are tired of planting something that is just going to be cut down in a few months and enjoy seeing something growing for a longer period of time.

   This is a "you are now leaving the city limit" sign.  The line through it means that you are leaving the town of Itero de la Vega.    It "translates" to "No more Itero de la Vega".

     Gotta love sunflowers.  We could see this field from way back on top of the first hill we climbed.  Yet it was nearly 3 hours away.

     What do you see?  Don't say nothing!!  Marvel at the mundane, man!!  What you could see is nothing, or you could see a very happy farmer.  Yep.  This field represents success!  Imagine months ago, an anxious farmer planted wheat, then had to pray that it got enough rain but not too much, that good bugs would live there not bad bugs, that no storm or someone's careless cigarette would torch it.  Then he hoped that his reaper would work and that he would be able to harvest it, store it and then sell it at a fair price.  This picture represents all those scenarios happening!  Yes, it is a beautiful picture, no?!
   The area is getting dry enough for adobe to be used in building houses.  Either this guy's house was built a few degrees to far east or he left the bathtub running and it has washed away a lot of his home.

    This is what it should look like.  Wonder what self-induced flood insurance costs around here?

     Today's hike was very nice as we walked on a path that had been lined with cottonwoods.  They sure like cottonwoods.  Don't they know that people are allergic to them?

     Okay, this is on a different level than me.  This is not someone asking why.  This is someone on acid.  Lesson to be learned if you are farmer:  Do not drop acid if you are suppose to be stacking hay bales.  The two do not go together.

 By far one of the prettiest paths we've hiked.  I say we, though I've hiked the last two days alone and absolutely loved it.  I win every argument!!  This was The Canal de Castille and it goes on for over 120 miles.  It's over 150 years old and has several locks on it.
   

The locks helped boats descend over 40 feet or rise 40 feet as well.  Did you know that the Panama Canal has locks that can raise cruise ships, friggin cruise ships!!!... and the motor that opens the megagigantic lock doors... is no bigger than a lawn more engine!!  That has absolutely nothing to do with these canal doors, but it was interesting!!





   This view looking down the locks from the top (which is generally where you are if you are looking down), shows the different levels.

This view shows the side walls of the lock and seem to say, nay screaming... Holy New Orleans, will somebody call the Army Corp of Engineers!!  Actually, it's probably been leaking for a long time... yes, and that's what they said in New Orleans just before they screamed, "Swim!!!"

 







This is the view looking back up the locks and it makes the locks look small.  Well, compared to the Panama Canal...they are, but then, there aren't many cruise boats running this canal either.  Was a beautiful day!!  Loved the solitude.

















 

 There is no Way to happiness...  Happiness is the Way!

Merzouga, Morocco June 2012

Merzouga

Our second day in the desert took us to the Morocco’s eastern border with Algeria and more importantly, to a campsite at the bottom of a 500 foot sand dune.  Talk about feeling humbled!!  But to get there required... a camel ride, and for me a camel walk.  This walk was much more difficult that Zagora.  Zagora was a hard pack desert for the most part.  That means that when I walked, my feet didn’t sink 6 inches into the sand.  At Merzouga, my feet would sink 9 inches into the sand, especially when climbing or descending small dunes.  It was also a three hour hike. 

    The amazing thing was that it rained on us as we walked through the Sahara!!! The Brits, who were from Manchester, were astonished.  They joked how only someone from Manchester, the rainiest city in England could bring rain to the desert.  I told them how lucky they were to see rain in the Sahara.  

You could do this trip a hundred times and never get a sniff of rain.  We were very lucky!

     

Our guide let me lead the camels and he walked along side.  He was a good guy.  Funny, in a Berber sort of way.  

    We got to the campsite and had tea and heard the “Berber Whiskey” joke for the umpteenth time...but laughed as if it were our first time to hear it. 

“Ooohhhh!   That’s a real neat slapper!  Yee haw!!”   (rule #1 - always please the cook!)

The dune, Erg Chebbai, is a monster.  We climbed it and sweated gallons of water to get to the top.  Walk six steps, slide back five.  This is the view of our campsite from about 1/2 way up.  

    This is the view from near the top.  The campsite looked like ants.  Small ants, at that.  It was getting dark and we knew that we had to get back down before it got too dark.  Rolling down a 500 feet sand dune is not fun.  Well it is for the first 15 feet, but the remaining 485 feet is a real bear!

   

At the top, just as we were about to leave, we looked to the east and could see a desert oasis in Algeria. Then the muezzin began to call out the prayers and combined with the flickering lights, cool breeze and thought of being stuck on a sand dune all night, it was magical.

    

When we saw the scarab beetle all of us had the same thought - The Mummy!  Way cool.   At night, we were all going to sleep outside but two things changed the Brits’ minds: 1)  one of the girls got bit/stung by something while sitting on the blankets that we were going to sleep on; and 2) someone saw a huge tarantula.  The problem was that the tents had blankets in them and they were incredibly hot and stuffy.  I told the group that I was still going to sleep outside because: 1) tarantulas don’t want to bite you, 2) it was too hot inside the tents where the tarantula may have come from; 3) This wasn’t the Mummy and scarabs don’t bite either.   Everyone decided to sleep outside on the blankets because they knew that I lived in a desert and they actually believed that I knew what I was talking about. 

Never worry if you get separated from your camel caravan... okay, this is an exaggeration.  You should be VERY worried if you get separated from your camel caravan, but for the sake of this photo...it would SEEM that you could find your caravan by following the camel droppings.  

At the end of the desert trip, our guides did what you'd expect any Moroccan living on peanuts to do... sell!  They called us over and sold us some cute little trinkets.  I bought a fossil that had been polished to the point of looking phony, but I know it wasn't because it said, "made in China"!!!  (just kidding) and a necklace that looks like it was made in China.  So what?  It was a souvenir and if it helped spread the wealth in Obama's home country... I'm just kidding guys... (shhhh...he was born in Kenya!!) then good.  Glad I could help these guys out.  I can't imagine how little they have and I can imagine how much I have, so I wear the necklace with joy and even though I may skip the flat fossil across a pond somewhere rather than carry it in a backpack, it made them happy.  

Wait!   Is that a diamond ring??  Cripes, I've been taken.....again!!

Time is non-refundable - spend it wisely!